Love Letter

The magnetic specter of our dance is gratifying in its own way.  The ebbs and flows, the way it goes carving-marking along the way. Deeper than ditches run, farther than a tumble weed could tumble, we fade into each other and the landscape.

When time is timeless what does time mean?  Perhaps a momentary infinity of you and me on this hypothetical horizon, watching the shades fade from hue to hue. Darkened silhouettes along the terrain, enveloped in some other domain existent but far between.

Specks in the dust, they say

Each meaningful and yet inconsequential in their own way

Working the wheel.

Beating the drum.

Reading the same script, over and over again

“You play this role, and I will play that.”

Expectations, at times hum-drum because you know you’ve played and acted these roles before, whether hero or villain you are familiar with the score.

Dum-ditty-dum-ditty-dum-Dum-ditty-Dum

The pipers come piping, the drummers do drum. The hamsters keeps spinning,  song after song.

So what?  In mixture of this intoxication in our physical being- how can we sequester such meaning? I cop it up to hormones, emotions and feeling. Avoiding the meaning it plays on some higher reality. You have yet to play the lover or the beloved.

The world at my fingertips, hair on end as I keep feeling this world, again and again.

I can be the gyroscope, and if you can hold a steady plane. Let me spin inside your skin until our souls touch.  In some perfect balance of day and night, taking flight to higher heights than either has ever known. Sew yourself within me- carefully.

Together we can be stronger than before, a united front of protection in this mundane place of normality. We would be allowed to dream bigger dreams. See ourselves as champions.

I can share with you my secrets of the cosmos- my ever evolving mind.  This heart holds divine space for you, there has always been a place for you in the core of my cerebellum, telling me to move muscles and sinew forward until the crux of time and space collide.  The horizon simplified, no longer lingering in hypothetical realms or parallel dimensions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Our compartmentalization of feeling somehow becoming null and void?

 

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My Best Friend: Just When I Was Getting Comfortable

I felt sick as a dog on the night of September 11th.  I was waking up hourly to empty my liquid bowels.  Standing up made me nauseous and I was afraid I was going to shit down my own legs.  I figured maybe it was one of the eggs I put into my dinner omelet.

The cats weren’t helping.  They wanted to lay on my stomach, causing me more discomfort.  I just wanted to sleep it off.

The 11th rolled into the 12, and I tried to go about my normal routine, but I wasn’t feeling normal at all.  My uncle came over to help out my grandma and I tried to sleep the day away, but was reawakened every hour or two by demanding felines.

I slipped in and out of dream space.

The woman accuses me of being an escort because I have a stack of cash.  I tell her I just sold my truck.  She also accuses me of having fake “air inflated” breasts.  I tell her that “that isn’t at all true.  I got fat and lost some weight and now I have stretch marks.”

Other strange thoughts invade my mind as I toss and turn.

I just don’t want to feel this way anymore.  I just want to sleep for 24 hours straight.  I just want to be taken care of because I don’t have the energy right now to care at all. 

I wake up early on September 13th.  I go to my Facebook feed.  There she is in my memories.  My fur buddy’s 10th Doggaversary.  Today would have been our 11th.

See just when I was settling into the idea that I no longer have to fill her water and food bowls, I am reminded of how far we went, and how close we came to 11.  I think about how, we would celebrate together since my birthday is so close to the day we found each other.

I realize, it wasn’t the eggs that made me sick; it was knowing that I would have to wake up on the 13th and deal with a new slew of emotions.  And that settling into emotions is much like the settling of sand which can be moved by a breeze, or a wash of water, dried out by the sun and stepped on, only to be encrusted into the indentations of some passerby’s shoes and transported to places unseen.

I’d like to not have to do anything for a while, so that I can just sleep if I want to sleep and dream these weird dreams, hoping we eventually reunite in that dreamspace for a little bit.  And, see I know I can’t tarry there long, but I would still like the opportunity, nonetheless.

 

Prelude to A Love Letter

I think we knew each other once upon a time.  Like, LIFETIMES ago.  I am writing this like I know for sure… but, in this climate, I can’t be certain, so let’s leave it to fiction… everyone likes a little bit of comedic-romantic-intergalactic fiction, right?

This is our eighteenth try at finding each other in some form of what is now called Earth and basically we have been told that if it doesn’t happen this time, then,it won’t ever be like people hope it is, and we at least want a fighting chance for an intergalactic minute .  I just want you to know I find it fucking cryptic and weird that we’ve been graced with twice as many tries as a cat gets lives.

So here we are in this last “hoo-rah” of life cycles with the chances and potentials and, well… maybe it was just a physical selfish desire to connect, despite all the connection we had previously in that timeless space.

I’m not even sure what I am trying to say…

All of us were, and then we were not, and then we became us again and then it fell apart and reassembled and continued on.  So we were always in the picture while being out of frame, over and over.

So, you know.  We’ve met.   I know you. I love you through the veils that seek to obstruct our views.

On top of it all I feel you and know everything about you, which draws us in and out of one another. Ebbing and flowing like the ocean, sometimes catching you off guard awash with an epic wave the slips sandals from feet causing stable stance to be up turned.

This feels like the Prelude to a Love Letter, so perhaps I will name it as such.

 

Alignment

One of the most amazing things that can happen, is when you want something to happen and it does without any active provocation.

Today I was able to chat with the best friend of my deceased brother.  I’m sure he is mentioned somewhere in this digital archive that I need to go have printed at Kinko’s/ Fed Ex.

We don’t talk often, but when we do, I think it is stellar both domestically and celestially.

Let’s face it, I don’t talk to many people very often.  And when I have a day of insightful conversation I know the world is about to shift again. I feel like everyone else does, just before it happens… a sense of imbalance, perhaps a need to purge, vent and connect.

If people were stars, I would be a distant star in the middle of a few clusters.   I might even be a nebula in the middle of some star systems… I don’t know, I am not an astrophysicist, I am a writer/ thinker who likes analogies.

Either way, shit is happening on the other side of the veil and I am well aware of it, and so are you, even if you don’t get it.

9/11 is a hallmark day.  (Like Hallmark Cards.  If you don’t have words for it, Hallmark has a card for it.)  Only, if Hallmark has a card, it is cryptic.  You’d be better to wait for their holiday ornament.

Feeling uppity or downity with your friends and fam today?  Feeling a strong desire to make life changing decisions with little to no planning?  Writing things like this, that may seem cryptic?

It’s what is up right now.  World wide.  This is part of the “matrix” the “construct.”  There is a self destruct mechanism built into the program.

Fight it.  Stop falling in line with this false “make it look pretty, because it is better than nothing” paradigm.  Fight it, and STOP IT.

I won’t until I’m stopped.

It’s another precipice.

People like me feel ultimate isolation because there is little to inspire real connection and the game gets old.  So if you face certain realities, while realizing that the best connections you may have will be momentary in times of struggle.  You realize you have to hold tight when others can’t. The only way this is possible is when you realize the bigger joke of the matter and if we really do live in game theory, some of us are the people you have to find in order to save yourself in the game in order to move to the next phase.

I’m no savior, but I am a point of re-connection to  that other reality which is unavoidable at some point.

Hit me up when things get weird.