When Life Feels Just Right

It's nice when an infatuation gets to look at itself in the mirror.
"Well gosh, doesn't this look rather ridiculous?"

Experience goes to show me that infatuations are nothing but gaps in knowledge and perspective.  To have an infatuation with someone means you substitute unknown qualities with perfect qualities.  Soon, the imagination takes over and you find yourself head over heels for someone that resembles something more like yourself than anything else.

Getting to know someone destroys it.  Completely.

Is it a tragedy?

Oh, far from it.

Life feels just right.

History

Peter The Great. 


1672 - 1725


Look what I just did.

I wrote his name.  I wrote his birth.  I wrote his death.  Almost in one sentence.

He lived, he died, he is remembered.  Was remembered.  Sometimes is remembered.

As I'm reading history, I'm wondering about these long lost souls that I've just discovered. I learn a name--sometimes there's a face--I learn what that name did, and then I move on.  There's no life.  There's no function.  What did he believe in?  What were his dreams?  What were his fears?  What was his desires?  And now as I close the book, I may also close the memory.  They're all just memories.  Some of them did so much in life.  They built empires, they had many wives, they traveled all around the world, they broke steel in battle.  They did so much.  And then...they left.  Now they're gone.  They're ink on a textbook.  They're a sound across a podium and a classroom.


The substance is missing.

And then, there are those who do not make even that.  The average populace is unknown.  The slaves are forgotten.  The peasants are an abstraction.  We know not a single thing for those who did not do "great" things.  Did the poor not do "great" things?  Did they not support the empire under hushed voices?  They're all just hushed voices.  Dissipated in the wind.  I wonder what it was like.

I wish I could know what it was like.

Or do I?   Am I a lucky one?  I live in the U.S., don't I?  I have a car, a family, money in my pocket, hot food on the table, and amazing opportunities in the present and in the future.  Do I really want to know what it was like?

Was it boring?  Was it drab?  Was it hopeless?  Was it meaningless?  Was any of it meaningful?

Or am I, too, ink on a page.  Or a hushed voice to be forgotten?

Maybe it doesn't matter.  Maybe what just matters...

is Me.  It's all ...well, relative...to me.

It makes me wonder what life was like before I was born.  But...in a purely psychological sense...and as far as I am concerned, the world never existed before me.  What is the world...if not my experience?  What is the world if not my vision, my hearing, my senses?

Then perhaps, you cannot explain history in that manner.   History, too, is a variation of ups and downs.  A variation of senses.  Whether bloody or hopeful.

I don't know what it was like to live back then.  But I do know what it's like to live now.  I'm here aren't I?

...then why should it matter?

Let me think about it...

Right.

I've been thinking about the things I've been thinking
The things that I think are so serious
Are just silly things to be thought to be serious

Hah.

Interest(ing)

Interest in the things I do.
Interest in the things I think.
Interest in the things I see.
Interesting little people.

What is interest, I have to ask?
A concept so complexing
Attention kept so focused and
My mind wakes up from resting

My eyes--wide open--start to seek
My heart begins to pace
I search for something more to see
In narrowed spotlit space

To suck in knowledge like a sponge
Or sugar through a straw
Or maybe like a parasite
That's greedy for it all

Electric currents fuel my veins
My soul begins to smile
I'm alive now!  I'm alive!
At least for this short while

I'm racing up, I'm racing down
I'm breaking down these doors
I'm pacing up, I'm pacing down
Like a soccer ball to score

And when I find it--when I find
That thing I'm looking for--
The best thing happens suddenly
I'm not human anymore

For split seconds I become
That thing which I have sought
I feel empowered and anew
Better than I could have thought

And then the current calms me down
And interest floats away
My brain dulls in a lowly buzz
My soul starts to decay

I cannot start--Why can't I start?
This engine in my head
I wish it would run all the time
Until I'm old and dead


Interest in the things I do.
Interest in the things I think.
Interest in the things I see.
Interesting little people.

POV: 1 Million.

 People have interesting theories. 

"People think that "being crazy in love" and infatuation is an enjoyable thing, but that state of wantingness and desiringness always carries a sense of loss with it. Even when you do get what you want, you fear that you will lose it, and when it does go (which is inevitable -- Buddha's principle of impermanence), you'll inevitably feel suffering.

This comes from the ego's illusion that it has to want something in order to get it, and it is the wantingness that gets it for you. The truth is completely the opposite -- in fact, LoA and IM supporters would probably say, your wantingness is intending lack and attracting lack, and pushes it further away! The ego believes that if it surrenders the desire, then it won't get the happiness associated with fulfilling it. But in fact, by surrendering everything, we get to increasing levels of freedom, love, and happiness that doesn't depend on outside circumstances. The happiness that we projected onto the fulfillment of desire, is now permanently experienced within you at all times as your LOC (level of consciousness), as your way of life and being in the world, and you realize that it never depended on outside circumstances at all.

We see that infatuation, crushes, "being madly in love", sexual lust, etc. are all coming from the LOC of Desire, 125. This is the level of projecting your happiness onto things separate and outside of yourself, then wanting and desiring it. Happiness, fulfillment, and completeness is projected into the hypothetical future fantasy that you're seeking. There is no way to really satisfy it, because you're seeking a fantasy, an illusion, something you've projected onto the thing that doesn't really exist in reality. That's why there's all this disillusionment in relationships, in materiality, in all areas of life. We project happiness "out there", when it really exists only "in here" -- and when you do get what is "out there", you realize that happiness really isn't there at all. No matter what happens, there always remains that separation between desiringness and what is desired, and that is what is creating the sense of loss. You can try your best to close the distance between the two, but it will always be there, as a natural consequence of the lower energy fields of desire / LOC 125.

The solution, is to surrender the lower fields of consciousness, in favor of higher ones. By surrendering the energy of desiringness, we move into LOC 250, Neutrality. At that point, you're ok whether you get what you want or if you don't; it's all the same. By releasing and surrendering the emotions of desire it shouldn't be too hard to get to this place, and there is tremendous freedom. You have the choice in how you feel about it, you aren't run by infatuation anymore. If we keep surrendering the lower levels of consciousness, we eventually get to LOC 500, Love. At that point, it becomes a way of being with the person. You're at one with the experience, with the person, with life. There is no longer that desiringness for anything, and thus no separation from that which is desired -- only a sense of completion, love, and fulfillment with the experience of that person, that is unconditional and doesn't depend on anything. It's almost like you're connecting to Source through that person, but it's not coming from the person, but from within yourself, and thus there is no experience of separation, lack, or loss.

In practical terms, to surrender the lower negative energy fields, what you do is to be aware of the energy-feelingness of desire, of wantingness, of the frustration of not having what is desired, of the physical sensations of it (usually experienced in the gut or heart). And instead of resisting it or suppressing it, you just let it be there, sit with it, and keep running the energy/emotions out until it disappears. It may take minutes, hours, days, weeks, months -- but it's limited, and eventually it runs out. It's like a compressed energy reservoir of negativity, and by experiencing it out and letting it run, we decompress it. It's similar to the Sedona Method, if you've heard of it. But all you really have to do is just not resist it and surrender to the experience and the emotions as best as you can."

Right.   

So, yet again, life presents a 1 millionth way to look at something.

 

In Short.

Stepping through the dirt
I thirst to find my resurrection
Listening to my heart
But from the start it failed to mention

I'm playing a losing game
From end to end I'm in detention
Working in reverse as I rehearse
My mind's extensions

I'm searching for the clear
And though I fear the warming tension
The fire's nice and will suffice
So long as I feed it's long suspension

There's only one question:

How will time shape me now? 

Death Death Death!

Death Death Death!

  Bring on your drums and bells.
  I welcome your insistent call
  Release me from my hell!

Death Death Death!

  An ending to an end!
  The reason for my treason
  Dies from Falsity again!

Death Death Death!

  And now it beats me clean
  The feelings that I once had
  Die revealing now my mean

Death Death Death!

  It's exactly what I get! 
  My infatuation's dead.
    Now I'm free.
        Thank you, Death. 

The Wasteland.

I'm all muddy.

I'm a mess.

I think I'm a little disoriented at best.

Where is my shirt?  Where are my sneakers?

Where's all my loose change that fell through the bleachers?

Where's my cellphone?  Where's my wallet?

I don't have my jeans.  And they're in my pocket.

Where are the people?  Where is the crowd?

It's gotten so quiet.  And there's no one around.

Maybe I'm drunk.

Maybe I'm high.

Maybe now I've become that guy.

That you see in the movies.

That you see in the street.

The one that's wondering when he'll next eat.

But I thought I lived here.

With my home and my friends.

I thought I loved everything all over again

But where did my home go?

Who took it down?

There's a hole where it used to be.

Just a hole in the ground.

And I sit here now thinking

"Where shall I go?"

"Who can I turn to?"

I really don't know.

But my home is now lost

The people are dead

The water is rising

I'm too tired to tread

I'll back away slowly

I won't leave a note

I'll find some salvation

I'll find me a boat

And sail away silently

From this wasted land

That God has bestowed me

A wasted young man.

Human Beings Do Not Have Souls

I'm starting to think so.

Let me think this through.

When I'm done I promise I'll tell you. 

5:30 A.M

I am a merchant.
A merchant of time......
...
...
...
...
...

Trading midnights for mornings
Wasting hours in kind
Spending minutes and seconds
In sleep banks of mine

My investments are sweet
With each hour I keep
The minutes keep beat
While seconds sing me to sleep

The second stops on the clock
The clock rings and then stops
The stopped rings of the clock
I've all soon but forgot

My sleep is so heavy
It's so heavy I sleep
Past the alarms
I've attempted to beat

Now my company calls
Now my company ceases
Now my company falls
Now my company's in pieces

Wait wait!
Calls the clock
The investor's old stock!
It's come to default!
It's come to a halt!
The minutes clock out
The seconds spill out
The hour is burning
This old building out

Wait wait!
Calls the clock
Wait.....

*Ring* *Ring*

SHIT.  I'm late.


I didn't hear a thing.

So Catch Me Up On Getting Out of Here

Maybe these feelings aren't as strong as I had previously thought.  Maybe my body draws these illusions for lack of experience--for lack of perspective.  That's all I think I'll ever need to get by this life unscathed and untorn from the pits it hurls at me.  I find that I am only afraid and uncertain of that which is unfamiliar--but once the darkness has been illuminated I cannot help but laugh from my previous states of minds.  Perspective is literally everything. It's the difference between me from 5 years ago and the me 5 years from now.  This is an awesome discovery.  I'll tell you one thing--once I get out of this place I will finally understand these current states of oddities.  I'll laugh and take it in stride--feeling the great irony that even then I will be stuck in a perspective waiting to be released and realized in itself.

Perhaps that is what life is.  A series of perspectives that free one another as the years go by.  Perhaps that is why time is such a great healer--it provides for inevitable growth and new states of minds.  New mentalities. 

Before I get redundant, I'll end this cheery note with this:

When the time comes...I will know that everything I have ever went through--no matter how horrible, anxious, or dreadful it might have seemed at first--

--it was all worth it.  It is all necessary.


Completely. 

Jump The Gun

A second holds the thought I have--first the root and then the stem.

A minute holds potential--growing out at once to free them.

An hour works to chart the lines that increase or decline.

My day is the result to see the progress over time.


Ready?


Go.

Hold On a Sec...

I'm getting dizzy thinking about everything.

So...dizzy.

My rationality seems to falter when I think about my future and what I want in it.  What I want depends on the circumstances of what exists now--but now is such an uncertain time in my life.  I'm beginning to dwell on issues that shouldn't matter.  But do they matter?  Will they matter?  Someday, they certainly might.  It could very well be the 'stuff' that makes or breaks me.

I don't know the answer to these questions that find me at constant.

I don't know about me.

I don't know about them.

I don't about her.

I don't know about it.

I.  Don't.  Know.

But maybe that's exactly the point.

Maybe that's the beauty of it.

Maybe it's all apart of a little something we call--

Life.

What's The Matter, Kid?

I think I could kill myself.

Whatever I am.

Not in the literal sense.  That wouldn't do much.   But...

I don't know.

But I always feel so alone here sometimes.

I wish I could go out more and do the things I'd love to do.

People say we have souls.  But they never really talk about the brain and it's wants and desires.  Sometimes my soul feels like a hindrance.  It wants so many things from me.  It wants me to be the best living thing I could possible be.  It wants me to be understanding.  It wants me to sympathize with it.  But what about what I want?  I could give less of a shit about good grades.  Or going to the naval academy.  I want to get high and party like everyone else my age.  I want to have fun.  I want to embrace life for its moments.  We live.  We die.  It's a bitch.  It really is.  But like a nagging echo, I feel this voice in me that will never let me live my desires down.  I cannot indulge in what I feel would make me happy.  I cannot face this...thing that lives within me. 

Sometimes I can't tell who's talking anymore. 

Like I said pages back in this blog, he used to call me "Kid." 

But lately I've been in the back sleeping.  I haven't come out in awhile--it gets lonely in my head sometimes.  What am I?  Do I represent repressed primitive desire?  Do I represent a fucked up childhood experience?  Do I represent stifled anguish?  Do I symbolize evil?

If my soul represents the greatest good inside me,

Then surely I must be evil. 

But I have the body.  I have the brain.  I have the tools to manipulate this world to my liking.  Well...its liking. 

It needs me.  But do I need it? 

Do I need a soul?--Or whatever the fuck you call this thing that tells you right from wrong?  That tells you to reach higher?  That tells you that indulging in bodily sensations is an inferior pursuit in the face of what greater heights man can achieve? 

I don't know.

I just know that it gets lonely in here sometimes... 

The Rain Reminds Me of You

Remember in September...
You spoke of a dream
To escape this hot state
...By any reason or mean

You said that you burned
From the slightest exposure
To the slightest degree
Like white bread in a toaster

I laughed at the time
Until you confessed
You slept with rain tracks
Playing through a headset

Now I'm here in my car
As the rain drips by
Thinking this is your song
Your sweet lullaby



                   You know...



We could run away
From the sun and this city
To find a home in Seattle
To find a life much more pretty

Where the weather is better
Because the sun never shines
But I couldn't care less
With your light at my side

We'd let the rain be our song
We'd let our dreams come true
You'd have everything you need
And I would have you

You'd never burn
You'd be safe from the sun
We could forget California
Once our new lives begun


                 But...you know...


As I look up to the rain
I know the sun's behind the clouds
Just how far could we run
before it finds us in the crowd?

Now I listen to the rain
I think about you
I think about running away
To do the things we could do

But now the sun's coming out
Soon you'll turn to ashes
The rain will dissolve
And with it my passion

I find myself lost
In another dreamy day

Well...

...this dream wasn't very realistic anyway. 

Keep Your Distance

Walk.  Look.  Catch a glimpse.

I see what I want and as the clock ticks

Maniacally inside I start to shutter with pride

And reach through the window to touch the bright prize

Touch.  Tilt.  Break.

Now the pieces are everywhere for Heaven's sake.

Damned am I for the risks I take.

And I curse under my breath for what a fool I make.

Dammit.

I'm just another man overboard.