Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Build ups

The sun rises, and I am not okay.
The wind chime gently sings, and I am not okay.
A friend shares some joy, and I am not okay.

My heart is not an easy thing. It feels like everyone has room in it, but I know that's an illusion. It only really fits a few at a time, but only if they play nice. No one plays fair. It's love: nothing is fair.

I'm writing this because I need to say it. Judge me privately.

I'm not okay. I make mistakes. I believe lies. I did try to go right. That's not a lie. But I can't keep shutting these thoughts inside because they make you uncomfortable. I can't keep turning away love because I am not supposed to love openly. I can't keep forcing myself to make an appearance. These are all lies. Living the way I am supposed to IS A LIE.

And all my truths you hold as less, and all my words, I tried hard to make true, you throw back and say "So what did you mean? Did you mean them as lies?"

I wanted to believe the lies, so I told more lies. The people tell me that saying a lie enough makes you believe it. Or did I simply not try hard enough?

The truth is I don't want to lie anymore. If being truthful and honest means I am a monster, then you say just not be a monster.

But I am a monster. I'm doing all the things I am not supposed to. And the older I become, the more monstrous my sins will be, simply because there will be people who want the monster in me.

I am tired of wearing so many masks and ripping off my skin. I am tired of lying to you. To him in the mirror. To the boy inside who can't stop crying. To the others who stare into me with recognition and lust and compassion and respect. Tired of lying around. Tired of letting the lies lay, like all the unhappy couples and families and loners who keep their monsters at bay.

I am not okay. I am back here again. I am lonely where I hid away the last bit of joy I felt. The glimmer is lint. Slut's wool in my darkness, and you vacuumed that out to leave me clean, because you, you said, are always cleaning up my messes, the mess I leave behind. I am not okay.

Not okay.
Not okay.
Not okay.

Sunday, November 05, 2017

Break downs

The truck broke down, but I am okay.
A love broke down, but I am okay.
My aorta breaks down, but I am okay.

When my bones return to shreds of dirt and ash, I am okay.

All the pain here is preparation for the will power them. The hardest thing is letting go of pain's mistake and taking up pain's gift. Love must go between the body and the future, shepherding and leading one into the other, or leaping like the Goats up cliffs or down rocks. Love links the lost to the found, and makes sense of it all just in time.

I am okay, and so are you. Hold my hand, it's okay.
I love you. I break down, it's true, but so do you.

Pain is somehow related to love, like joy and trust and friction. Rubbing makes it harder for love; scratching at things does too.

I am okay, and I am. My heart understands I am you.

Sunday, October 29, 2017

I awoke to write this

We are all one.
We keep repeating mistakes until we learn other choices.
Forgiveness stops the flow altogether,
but begins new turning, too.
There's an endless past to forgive.
There's an endless future to act out.
Love and hate are the same insofar as both
substitute many for one or one for many
But when all become one, the love you love is what you are.
The hate you hate is what you give.
All pain is lesson unfolding in time.
All truths are yours alone.
Truth cannot be taught apart from pain and transformation.

I don't like to use 'God' to talk about the higher selves or Self or Spirit or the totality, but I see why they do. I think it's safest to grasp why words we use will falter.

I don't pray to anyone else but you. You are God, and I hope when you read this, you will feel better about that.

The light is growing in all of us. Soon, we will all know that every moment is choice. All choices are okay. Some take longer to make, since some lessons we refuse to learn.

Forgive yourself.
Forgive others.
Let go of the debts you keep in mind, in heart, and the debts we experience in our body will pay off in gold we cannot spend but can become.

Love, love, love

Thursday, October 26, 2017

from me to you

Stealing kisses in the backseat
Hiding hands inside shirts
Holding contact with our eyes
Breathing wishes passed back and forth
Sharing smoke and talking nonsense
Singing jokes about animals and pets
None of this happened
None of this is real
Only dreams are our lives
Only dreamers live our lives
Tell me another story, this time
Make it about me, only don't
Say where I came in, outside this
Show how you got here, then there
Open up my heart, underneath
Close the blinds and shades, so those
Remain inside me forever, please
Please and forgive yourself for who
and what I was, is who you are and were
and will be, just as
I am you in the backseat with his hands
on your thigh and that hair falling
on everything in waves, curls, and rings
You invented me one day
but I am also inventing you

The sun still shines and asks
"Who are you really?"
And burns away night with answers

Thursday, October 19, 2017

A secret

I erased five different things. I cannot get this started. I don't like typing on the phone. The keyboard on the desktop no longer works. There is no Internet. I feel the static increases. I feel my temperature rising trying to type or read or learn from this tiny little screen. My body has begun falling apart. I want to scream. I want to stop teaching high school 2.0. I wish I could help every student and give them all the focus. My patience is gone and my mercy guided by apathy. My disappointment is with me. My phone inserts the wrong words in wrong places and makes me grow frustrated. Right now my head feels stiff and stuffed and everything is tingling. My arm is getting worse. My torso is becoming a manikin. Something is going to happen soon to me. I am not bored. I am not doubtful. I want to feel my blood again moving around inside me. I want the robot to stop and listen. I miss the goats and the peace of grass eaten in clumps. I want to write but the schizo takes over and Hello. I miss you so so much but will never see you again. My prison looks like colors and smiles but it's boxes and carpeted walls for real. I drive for miles and judge bad drivers and respect the people who coast down at the red lights. The sunrise is beautiful but I have to drive recklessly to see it. My body is heating up and I feel like a flu is settling in. I cut my thumb doing nothing important and pray to no one but mistakes. I always believe so stupidly they'll read but always become surprised that they mislead each other no matter how clear or verbose I can be. I can't tell if loving you is a distraction or sincere but I know it hurts to not have the chance to learn the answer. The things I read alarm me that so few see these truths. They want equality and hierarchy, to be the best at being mutually degrading. Christians more and more appear as frauds except the sincere hearts who struggle with what I am to them. I know now I am an Antichrist but only because I care that the truth is more fascinating, that He is the Antichrist too. I love you out there and wish I were holding you now, but only if you want it to be. I know you are listening and I am open now. I want to get past the fear that I am right and into the courage to learn how I'm wrong. This body is going to die sooner than I thought. The body cannot live without the mind.

Wednesday, October 04, 2017


For a brief moment, my foot will touch your foot. Or, your foot will touch my leg. Or, your hand might touch my foot. Or, our legs might touch one another. It's all in how we seat ourselves that we end up slightly touching.

Nobody moves. That's one of the things I first learned about accidental contact. Don't move. That is, if you like the person. If you really like the person, sometimes you kinda inch towards them for that accidental touch. If you don't like them, and you really don't like them, take every precaution.

I learn a lot about a person in that moment when nobody moves. I learn how they feel about me. I hear them apologize if they do, and I hear them tremble sometimes, too. Not everyone trembles from emotions, though. Sometimes it's just a neurological condition. What misunderstandings those are!

Sometimes the touch just leads on to more. Now that you know your space and their space can comingle, you get closer. Eventually, if everyone's okay with things and the public audience doesn't mind, there are subtle cuddles, suddles. Never been someone whom people can just come up to and cuddle, but that's more to do with the public audience than my own resistance. But, suddles are nice.

If we're suddling, chances are also high that we're friends of an intimate sort, possibly becoming lovers soon.

But if we're none of those things, chances are that it's a misunderstanding once again.

In my heart, I am always moved by you the longer we have a chance to learn one another. You know when you really have moved me on the inside is when I don't move on the outside when you touch me. Obviously, though, if I'm no longer subtle and no longer cuddling, we're something more.

My arm rests next to yours, and I accidentally bump you, but I do not move. I knew.

Wednesday, September 20, 2017


After five or six years of living here by the lake, with these goats, these trees, these foxes, these neighbors, Colleen and I are moving further north. We'll be living inside a small town, in an apartment, but I plan on doing a lot more walking, talking, and finding like-minded people. The move is next week.

The change is right. The time is near. I'm both excited and swamped. Colleen has been working very hard on getting things ready. She is also excited and swamped.

Once the move is complete and we're settling in, the next thing is to start developing a business plan for philosophical consulting. From there, the horizon is the limit, the ground is the basis, the ideas are the fruit, and the joy is the goal.

You are welcome to join us. You are always welcome to contribute. You are expected. You will bring so much to our life and we will bring so much to yours.

The door is open. The threshold we cross. The hall of infinite doors is on the other side. I will see you there.

I will see you all there.
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