2008 September

love at its most unconditional is still conditional, even if the only condition is, “respect the value of what is being given.”

i think that condition is the most important key to making love unconditional.

sometimes when you search for other people to give you the answers, you realize that the only person who can give them to you, who can help you out of this, is yourself. that’s why no one could ever give me what i needed. i have to be able to get these things from myself.

what i am to you, is not real.

i know people are scared to get close to me sometimes because they’re afraid to see into themselves. my honesty can be blatantly reflective.

so i make up lies about why when i know why. every person looks for a reflection of themselves in other people. if you want to have a real partnership, you have to find someone who’s seen himself and accepted it. but i don’t really want that because i’m still looking for a reflection myself. so that’s why my deep interactions are unconscious, people seeking and projecting reflections. i know who he is in this relationship is not really who he is, but completely who he is. he’s also wearing what i ask him to wear whether it fits him or not. i also know that i am exactly who i truly am but also what he wants to see in me. i don’t know much else from his perspective because i just can’t see it.

is it fair? is it balanced? does it matter? we’re seekers. but sometimes it’s hard to face the hard truths, because those hard truths are lonely journeys inside ourselves and we’re afraid to take the dive alone.

what i am to you

is just what i’m going through

this is nothing new

just a phase of finding what i really need…is what makes me bleed…

but not anymore. i found the secret in how to stop wanting things with sharp edges last year. i can always go back to that craving like an addiction, but why would you want me to? to everyone who’s connected to me this year–i can see your pain when it mirrors my own and i can show it to you, as well as show you the beauty of what you were before you lost your innocence. this is why we meet. this is what i can give. i can’t do it if you raise too much darkness in me so that i start fighting imaginary demons instead of focusing on the real positives i can give.

i don’t want to hurt myself anymore. i haven’t in a really long time and my life has been very positive, completely free of the negativity of my past. i just stopped caring about it. i can still write about the darkness but i prefer to write about the light and hope that the divine source where creativity comes from will grant me the imagination to write about the darkness without having to touch it. but even so, i will not go back to it. why? because it never really owned me. it thought it did, but it didn’t.

so i want you, knowing me, knowing what i can give when i’m strong, to ask yourself if you really want me to wrestle with your darkness. to wrestle with your darkness means to wrestle with my darkness which is fine if it’s helping you, but i know i can offer something much better.

really ask yourself, what kind of story would you like this to be?

i was supposed to have flown back today and i’m still here. good decision or bad decision? in a way, i need contact with my old life, with friends and loved ones so i can gain perspective on this period of my life whose purpose was to allow me to gain perspective on my old life. now i need the enlightened old to triangulate a perspective on the “new,” this place where i’ve come for better or for worse. i have definitely seen the shadow, coming face to face with it, tasted it, heard it, felt it, believed it. and now i need to know to what extent it is still working, to propel me to understanding through polarity, or by pushing me towards my own self-destruction.

i’m so deep in the well, so deep in the murky water that i no longer know which way is up. while it’s not a problem in terms of drowning since this whole thing started because i learned how to breathe underwater in my dreamscape and thus, be able to breathe in the face of emotional/existential crisis, i don’t want to lose my bearings. i don’t want to stay in this water forever.

i want to be careful that i’m not fucking myself over by going too deeply in the wrong direction.

secrets.

let me speak honestly here for a second.

the last two years, i’ve been exploring secrets and the lives they lead. so i’ve been chasing people’s secrets and following them down down down, like worms into the deepest flesh of a person where it’s sunk its teeth. and it has brought me down down down, into places where the truth suddenly becomes very murky, not in what it is inherently, but by melting the world around it until there’s no distinct place to put it.

there are people who carry secrets because they have serious things to hide and don’t want to be associated with them.

there are others, who because of oppressive childhood experiences, carry secrets for the sake of having secrets, so that no matter what was taken from them, no matter what was withheld from them, there was some power in resistance of domination when they always had something that was theirs that could never be taken away or touched — tightly kept secrets guarded by only themselves. sometimes this is all a person has to survive when there’s a force in the world trying to break them.

i’m one of those people. no matter how much people and circumstances tried to break my spirit, no matter how many times i got pushed into a corner and held there to see if i would break, i always knew they could never touch my thoughts, my mind, things known only to me. the things that only i knew were the magical stones i carried with me, whether dark, scarred chunks or smooth, marbled rounds. in some ways, i superstitiously trusted their magical powers to keep me from ever letting go of myself as long as i in turn kept them to myself and guarded them unwaveringly.

the key to keeping secrets is to not let the world know you have any. let it suspect, but don’t let it ever catch you.

i have secrets. so many secrets that i’ve forgotten about many of them and that they were even secrets. i’m not a liar by intention, though by semantics, i know that i am. but i’ve never held secrets that hurt other people, only occasionally, myself. my collection of secrets is compulsive. some secrets are so small and pointless. i’ll tell someone i had a donut for breakfast when i had a croissant, because in that moment, i didn’t want them to know what i had for breakfast just because. some secrets regard who i am and where i’m going, not necessarily because i don’t want people to know, but because i may not be sure yet myself and i don’t want them to tell me. some secrets are memories of things that happened, some secrets are events i created purposefully knowing i planned to create a secret. some secrets involve not allowing people to paint an accurate picture of where i come from. some secrets deflect people’s ability to paint a full picture of who i am. but there aren’t bad intentions with my need for secrets. it’s just what i need. deflection, protection. a place only i know. a place only i own. it’s what i know. it’s having things that no one can ever touch unless you choose to allow them. the very fact that you have control over something that allows you the space and freedom to make a choice, such a simple choice, is sometimes all the control over yourself you were able to carve out for a long time in your life.

i try keeping the fact i compulsively keep secrets a secret. it helps by appearing to be a gossip. in a way, if you are an information sieve and you’re the wildfire with which news spreads, no one really questions whether you have the ability to keep a secret. they just assume in a way–quite rightly–you don’t. but i know when to keep a loved one’s secret as tightly and loyally as my own and sometimes if you really listen to me, on one level i’m being 100% truthful, so truthful that sometimes people have no idea what i’m talking about, and on another level, i’m not really saying anything. people will either respond to one or the other and that’s how i get to know what kind of people they are.

my secrets have lives.

they take me to places i would otherwise never see, meet people i would otherwise never meet. sometimes those people scare me, sometimes they enlighten me. sometimes they teach me a better point of view. sometimes they help me strengthen my point of view. my secrets have propelled me not in a positive or negative direction per se, but in a direction of more–higher faster stronger deeper. i always thought they weren’t a big deal. i try not to get myself in any situations where i create really bad, dark secrets, and at the end of the day, it’s like a secret collection of anything–some people like star wars figures, i liked collecting things that only i know.

maybe this is karma.

if right now i’m staring at this aspect of myself in the face, projected, firsthand experiencing how annoying, frustrating, devastating it is for people who want to get close to someone who keeps secrets for the sake of keeping secrets, then i feel very, very sorry for having not had more self-understanding. i feel very sorry if i have hurt anyone because my compulsion to keep secrets was more important to me than letting them in and truly being with them. in a way, i understand it now, that it was about autonomy and not being completely dominated while i was growing up, but now, i don’t know how much it serves me outside of having an emotionally masturbatory quality to it. i want to change this.

i would rather you lie about the things that weren’t important than hide the things that are. like i do.

today’s clue:

This influence also may signify a relationship in which you feel fascinated by the other person, even though you feel that the relationship is bad for you. You seem unable to get away. Actually you are experiencing a repressed aspect of yourself through the other person.

fuck. i’m having so much trouble sorting it out.

if i lose everything, i’ll just start all over and rebuild myself, my perspective with people i trust. it might take me a long time, but it’s not something i haven’t done before, so if that’s my destiny, then that’s what i accept.

there’s no trust without letting go.

i’ve just put on the table everything i’ve built my identity upon, everything that i own that’s important to me–my life, my self-esteem– for something that has been described to me that i’ve always wanted, sight unseen. i’m either going to own something that i’ve always hoped existed, or i’ve lost everything.

oh, i just realized i talked about my shirt but still haven’t put it on yet.

i am watching some dutch melodrama on nickelodeon . isn’t this a channel for kids?

there’s tuxedoed boy-girl drama and tears and sobbing and best-friend hugs and pep talks and a giant poster of wentworth miller. then they cut to dark alleyways and there are slutty bitch girls and old lady landlords and a stuffed raven for some reason. now there’s screaming and a girl in a porn-cut “businesswoman” suit and i’m terrified it’s going to turn into a european porn. i really wish there were subtitles because this shit is uninterpretable.

oh, now there’s a soliloquy from an old man in a bathrobe sitting in the dark amidst stuffed ravens as dark villain music plays. now it all makes sense.

i just realized i was sitting here with no shirt on and had to look around the house for it. i found it crumpled on the floor outside of the kitchen.

?

i haven’t left random pieces of clothing around the house while writing since that one really creative spurt in 1999.

this was how she described herself:

i’m the kind of person who can suddenly turn to a person she’s been with for years and say, i’m sorry, i’m in love with someone else, when inside her head she’s screaming, i’m sorry, you’re WHAT?

so you don’t know who.

i don’t know who.

i laugh.

amsterdam’s a great place for finding things like that. amsterdam’s a great place to find keys you’ve lost in the ocean.

i have no idea if she understood what i meant. i gave her a free guide and she left.

promoting was so good today.

finally got to work with zahra. one of the guys had told me the guys don’t like working with her. she talks to you a lot so you can’t hand out guides, but everyone always takes guides from her.

she’s awesome. the flirtiest 20 year old girl i’ve ever seen. she’s like a beautiful creature. we just kept making each other giggle. i told her i was 30 she said, oh my god, my stepmother is 31! i just laughed and laughed. she couldn’t believe how old i was.

i saw ken walking up in the crowd. he always wears a cap. when i saw a picture of him on facebook without it, i remember staring in shock because there was a part of me that couldn’t believe he has hair, so the hair in the picture almost looked magical. it made me realize that the thing about having these brief and intense meetings with people out here, is you don’t really know much about each other except the sum of these snapshots you retain after each encounter. and i never know after seeing someone, if this may be the last time i ever see them.

libras are the true lovers of the world. they fall in love with everything. i bet zahra is a gemini.

bomb ass article

okay. i’m going to give it my all and try to dig it out.

remember how i always say that you have to be careful of running into a ghost at night, because if he recognizes you, he’ll follow you home?

i’m pretty sure ever since berlin, i’ve been living with a ghost named eli. he seems to reside in david.

i’m not really sure what i’m supposed to do here.

i once had a conversation with my friend bobby about mirroring people’s energies…i’d been gleefully wearing his leo energy while playing basketball for a few months and i’d been having the time of my life. that energy seemed to affect bobby as well, even though it was just a reflection of his own energy, the purest part of his energy.

the past few months, i had once again become a mirror, absorbing energy so that the person i was absorbing it from can see. see the silhouette and shadows of his own painful insides, his darkest, deepest cave.

in a way, i had been inexplicably preparing for this for a year, training my body like an aspiring pro athlete, cleaning up my diet, heart, mind and psyche. even though i didn’t consciously know where i was going at the time, i can say with confidence in hindsight, that i knew that what i was going to take on would require me to be the strongest i’ve ever been.

the more secrets of his i knew, the stronger the projections of his insides into my perception of the world. very quickly, my world turned into bizarrely bright days and hushed rainy days. there was intense beauty, from the flowers, to the rain, to grass in the yard gently swaying by the wind. there were thunderstorms and candlelight and silence brimming with conversation. and then i wanted to see the darkness, and suddenly, i was within it.

people always think it’s worse than it really is. whatever it is inside them whose pain radiates in powerful waves of energy. but when my world becomes their projection of these things, it always turns the world into a caricature of dark alleyways and menacing whispers.

the more time i spent with him, the darker my mind became and the more power surged through me, a battle between a gentle, infinite desire to be good and a dark, hissing shadow. i became obsessed with the red light district, knowing that so many problems were started here. and then somewhere in the course of my fall into the darkness and my search for the reason and my belief that i am ultimately showing him these things for good, something breaks and everything that churns in my mind from my connection to this dark world suddenly spills out of his mouth, as though my thoughts and words were a magnet for his secrets.

and from there, comes the most absolute, painful truth between two people.

i believe i have two choices. i’ve always felt that life is a series of decisions like 90 degree left or right turns. and the sum of those decisions creates the circuitboard of my life. in this case, i don’t know which decision, left or right, will be the one that gives us the best chance of making it out of this.

but i’m working really hard for the answer.

please, i just need some help.

sometimes it’s just hard for people to realize that taking responsibility for themselves isn’t as difficult or life-threatening as they seem to think.

talking helps.

M	T	W	T	F	S	S
1	2	3	4	5	6	7
8	9	10	11	12	13	14
15	16	17	18	19	20	21
22	23	24	25	26	27	28
29	30

Echo

All stream of consciousness, all the time.

Echo Playlist

Archives

Calendar

Tags

Categories

About Me:

Meta

Contact