more than a while

it has been, huh? I don’t even remember my password, but thank God for autosaves, amirite?

I’ve been sick for the past couple days, and it’s compelled me to read and reflect – let me stop myself right here: every time I get sick, it’s always because The Universe is telling me something ain’t right in one aspect of my life or another. It’s time to reevaluate and reassess. That’s always the message. every time. It’s only been a day and a half, but I’ve been doing some reading and now finally some writing. Continuing, I’ve been reading, and there was a particular book of poems that was recommended to me by an algorithm on Amazon that doesn’t know me from Adam. The cover art looked decent enough. I read the summary. I said what the hell and hit “download.” I read the first page of that shit, and said immediately “I can be a published author. If I were to put time, energy, and confidence into this endeavor I could really do something.” Furthermore the shit was flaming hot garbage, and so it has compelled me to write.

I haven’t been this “sick” this often since I was a kid. I’m stronger now, though, and the through the down time comes clarity for me. I have no choice. I’m my own company, and when I want to be, I’m a damn good listener. I listened today and as of today, I know with conviction that I am not in alignment with who I want to be. Oh, I’m trying. Don’t get me wrong, but certain aspects of my life I’m not living them for me and as I go through the day to day grind, I’m not sleeping. I’m not taking whole breaths. I’m not living. I’m existing until…

I’m beginning to resent myself and my choices. It has left me riddled with covert anxiety. A couple days ago I applauded myself for not experiencing [overt] anxiety for nearly a week. Then I remembered I haven’t slept or been able to eat much in days. Furthermore, I haven’t gotten a full 7-8 hours in at least a month. It’s made me realize that just because something is easy doesn’t mean it’s the best course of action. And I’ll admit it, I’m scared as fuck to live my own life. I don’t even know what the shit really means, but I will say that my everything is ready to create a definition. Tonight I got an idea. I took a shot in the dark and a step toward a more peaceful direction.

Most people realize that they should do what they love and such when they’re in their 50’s. I feel the effects of my misery in. my. bones. I literally ache daily. I don’t feel old and decrepit, I feel like I am in opposition of what I know I should be doing, because I’m scared. It’s a maelstrom and a constant tug of war between the unknown and the devil I’ve been dancing with for a while. I used to fear the unknown, but the fear is lessening as the pain deepens.


You know, I was watching a documentary. I think it was “Life,” the episode with the amphibians and reptiles, I think, and I was baffled. How do these animals come out of their respective eggs and the like know their purpose upon their first breath? They don’t have a spoken language or oral mode of communication. They don’t sign. Nothing. A lot of these animals don’t even make contact with their parents, the mother will get fertilized and leave the eggs somewhere safe just so they don’t get eaten, and then she’s off, yet these animals have an intrinsic knowing of their role in their respective communities and of their needs. I passively listened to the documentary and thought “they are all body.” Yoga and certain schools of philosophy have to teach humans how to get out of the mind and into the body, but animals don’t spend their time in the mind as we do. They are constantly in their bodies therefore they can focus more on their biological and communal purposes. There’s no guilt in the wild.

There’s no guilt in the wild.

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