forever yours, forever mine
Prepare for a ramble. I’m buffering. These are just my thoughts. Formless. Naked. Free-styling.
I realized something today. I realized that whenever I’m feeling insecure or uncertain about the future I seek to define, micromanage, and fortify my own patterns and beliefs. I set my intentions from a place of fear, rather than a place of love. I tighten the stitches. I reinforce the walls. I settle and I cling to things I have outgrown. I beg for the minimum. I beg for bread crumbs. We teach others how to treat us. We set the precedent by the way we treat ourselves and many of us don’t treat ourselves all that well. So I have to treat myself better. I’ve got to feed my soul. I’ve got to get on really intimate terms with myself. I’ve got to choose me, to choose you.
How do you feel about me? How do you envision our 3D lives in the future? Become accusations in moments like these rather than an exploration of love/limitless potential. Rather than explore our lives with gratitude and joy we look for the cracks, the would-be betrayals and betrayers, the exits unmarked and otherwise. Just encase. We survive on desperation, on a habitual need to be placated and anesthetized. Some questions have no right answer. Do you think I look fat? Is one of those questions because nothing anyone can say can clarify the distortion of one’s own negative self-perception. So here we are again. Perspective. That’s what reality is all about perspective. So why choose the version of reality that hurts the most? Why reinforce the pain? If we have a choice and we do have a choice. Isn’t it strange that we choose moments when we are feeling unstable and anxious to think about and plan for the future? It’s like trying to have a heart-felt conversation when you are pissed off.
Being human is an experience. Fleeting. Beautiful. Excruciating. Baffling. We don’t mistake an outfit for the person underneath it, even if that outfit is an expression of the person’s identity/mood/role in a given moment in time. We are a spiritual being having a human experience. I think more often than not we build our whole lives on illusion, to suit the fickle and temporary demands of the lizard brain. We forget that we are infinite. That we are creators in our own right. We take dreams for granted.
Basically I have been thinking about reality again. About why we choose define ourselves by fear instead of love. I think about all the times I’ve said I am lonely. I need to find someone. I need to do something. I need to go out and become someone. If you are me then it makes sense that I ought to be able to be in a room with myself and my feelings and the silence without self-destructing. If I can’t be present with myself then how will I be present with another person, with their feelings, with their silence, with the unknowns that exist in every situation and relationship?
I have this habit of giving advice whenever I talk to someone because listening to other people talk scares the shit out me. The story of how lives fall apart and reassemble. The not knowing. The sense of powerlessness when you watch someone you care about self-destruct/self-deprecate/abandon hope. The sense that I am not smart enough to have an adult conversation in the first place. The need to prove and justify myself and assert my own beliefs whatever the conversation. We fill in spaces, instead of letting ourselves breathe. We push the miracles underground. It takes space to manifest. Most of what we are is space, space isn’t lonely at all, walls are lonely. The unknown constitutes so much of our lives, it is where the magic happens, it’s the womb and it’s the source of all creation.
I love you. Like I really, really love you. So I open myself up a little more each day. So I move towards you and our future, effortlessly because that is where my energy is pulling me. I want to spend my life getting to know you. Not just in this lifetime and not just the gorgeous human you’ve incarnated as but the soul underneath. I would let myself go crazy in a room with you. You could go crazy too. We could do it together. Over and over. I have already chosen you. Let’s explore life together. And also thank you. Thank you because I know that you are with me, there for me, doing the work, and willing to take the time to create something truly special with me, something soul-deep. You inspire me. And if you need a sign this is it. I know who you are AM. I know because we are soul-deep. I trust that we will come together in every way. I trust you. And also if you want to do a video chat let me know (dream reference) because the answer is yes.
With all that I am your DF
During my daily tarot readings I have noticed a common theme. Release the past. Be true to yourself. I have already spoken about the former so today I decided to delve into the latter. Am I being honest with myself about what I desire from our connection? Is my patience an affectation? I am not patient. I am hungry. Am I being honest about what I want to achieve as an individual? Am I still wild or have I become accustomed to settling for approximations? Do I seek comfort over adventure? Am I a living/breathing embodiment of pure, undiluted passion? Do I still have it within me to incite and inspire? By nature I am intense and passionate and sometimes I get carried away. I like a little obsession with my love. I am flawed to the point of disfigurement. Does that scare you?
I was chatting with a friend today and she complimented my ability to accept the status quo. I have always thought of the status quo as the antithesis of life, something along the lines of limbo. I thought that to live fully meant action/reaction/continuous reinvention. At some point I became aware that I was seeking distractions in order to numb and escape myself. I realized that one can find, even within the most ordinary moments, inspiration, passion, wonder, and depth of sentiment. For the ordinary to become extraordinary we have only to be receptive and present, we have only to submerge ourselves in the experience. What if all of life could be a celebration? When I think of you I like to imagine our life as it would be in the day to day sense (this isn’t the only way I imagine us). We are already extraordinary, no alterations are enhancements needed. There is not a person in this world who does not possess the capacity to manifest miracles. In dreams the simplest touch from you awakens emotions and sensations within me that are nothing short of miraculous. How could I possibly fathom the potential of the flesh? To hold you, heart to heart, would unravel me! I want to unraveled.
I started this letter with a clear intention but as usual I ramble. I want everything with you. All of it. I want the everyday moments. I want to be pursued with a passion that borders on obsessive. I want to heal. I want to discover our mission and submerge myself in it, whole-heart. I want to laugh with you. Hold you. Fuck you. Fall apart in your arms. Soothe you. Inspire you. Kiss you with abandon. I don’t want to wait even if it is reckless. I want to take my time getting to know you. I want you all to myself. I want to surrender you along with myself. I realize that my list of “desires” is contradictory and rather vague. If I said lets live together and figure it all out after would that sound crazy to you? Desperate? Escapist? For all that I have said and not said at the end of the day I want you, just as you are. Not the “perfect”, “censored”, “tailored” version but the you which is still vulnerable, still wild.
Every moment is filled with you. Moments I didn’t even know myself to possess. It is if every day I discovered within myself another sense, another muscle, another feeling. My life before you must have been one of atrophy and decay. Now I am alive. Now I am awake. I am drunk with feelings, with life, with a new found innocence. Every inch of my soul is inundated with you. Whenever I close my eyes I feel you deep inside of me. How can we occupy two different bodies? How can our lives go on being separate? In my heart nothing is separate. In my heart you are whole. When I first began meditating I pictured myself handing my heart to you. Not my physical heart but my energetic heart. Mine is green like spring. Yours is blue and electric. Your energetic heart now beats inside of my chest. I shouldn’t ask for more. How dare I? My body craves you. My instincts crave you. You are driving me insane.
It has to be you. How can it not be you? I am sure you have many questions. I am sure you need reassurance and I know there must be moments when the signs are not enough to satisfy your curiosity/your fear/your corporeal needs. If you ask I will answer. This love is real and so am I for that matter.
Last night I had a cute dream about you. A memory from another life perhaps? I will relay it now in summary. We were teenagers. I had made up my mind to make friends. I had spent some time with one of my classmates (?) in her home and she invited me to hang out with her clique. I am not sure I made much of an impression on the group. The whole encounter rang rather false. I remember slipping into a cafe and finding you there at the counter. We decided to get lunch. You asked me about my type. I named 2 girls (no faces come to mind and I can’t remember the names). I was worried that you would think I only liked girls so I tried to think quickly of my type in the masculine sense but all I could think of was you in the present tense. In the dream I was both in the present and the past. You took my hand and we ran through cobblestone streets. I remember lampposts with flowers and big gates that exist only in renditions of heaven. I must have been wearing a cumbersome dress because I couldn’t run properly. We stopped behind a tree. You were very sweet, eager, and charming and I could not understand why I was so taken in by you. I held your face cupped between my palms. I was amazed by your interest. I dream about you often. Every night. I feel you as I lie awake in bed. My other self. My beloved self. My exceptional self.
PS) I have always wanted to write love letters. How am I doing so far?
With everything that I am your DF
Today I will dispense with metaphors and pretty words. Just for now. Just because I am feeling frustrated and confused and in desperate need of something tangible. I am frustrated with myself. I am feeling stuck and I don’t know how to unstick myself. It’s hard letting go of the past. I want to become someone new. Not myself. Not, not myself. I want to grow beyond the limitations of my ego but I just can’t work out how to do it.
I have had some time to think since this morning. I am feeling better now. When we remain true to ourselves the right people and the right opportunities appear at the right time. I keep trying to become someone for the sake of “doing something” for the sake of “being something” for the sake of “fitting neatly into misshapen spaces”. Just when I think I am finally “being” I catch myself “doing” the wrong things sometimes for the right reasons, sometimes for the wrong reasons, sometimes for no reason at all. Why must I overcomplicate everything? I don’t know what the hell I am doing if I am being honest (and having read this I don’t know what I am talking about either). It occurs to me that one can’t let go of the past from a place of resentment/anger. Those emotions are close-fisted/incarcerating. If I want to let go of the past I have to open my hands/unlock the doors/open the windows, I speak now of gratitude and forgiveness and I can’t help but feel that they are the key to unlocking all the doors within me. Maybe loneliness doesn’t come from having too little of someone or something, maybe loneliness comes from having too much/from not making time/room for oneself/from filling up one’s space and time with somethings and someones. Maybe loneliness is a call of celebration, a celebration of the freedom of self, of genuine expression. As queer and lovely as that sounds I still want to hold you. I want to give you my undivided attention, to lie awake for hours experiencing you on every level.
Once again I find my letters full of abstractions. The whole point of this letter was to admit my ignorance. I don’t know everything dear one. I know only that I love you and that underneath my knowing and my ignorance I always have within me a profound sense of you.
With everything that I am your DF
I am composed of two people. Me and you. I sometimes forget that our lives are still separate because within my heart we are already living as one. I find in the shadows such a wondrous sense of expectancy. I lie awake at night staring into the darkness and I imagine us lying face to face breathing in the silence. Sometimes your presence has the texture and weight of a man. Sometimes I find myself inexplicably in your arms. The only time I feel real/grounded/safe is when I am surrounded by you. I wonder if you ever find me in reflection?
Sometimes I think my heart is too human to be conduit for divine love. I am still learning what it means to love unconditionally. I am still selfish and needy.
I touch myself and at these times I am almost too afraid to think of you. I am afraid that you will hear me screaming your name in the animal quiet of my possessed mind. I wait until the last minute to feel you, to see you, to realize you fully. I wait until creation spills from my shaking thighs. I wait until I am vulnerable, malleable, broken. No matter how intense the orgasm, my need remains volatile and intact. I am not sure that I will ever know “true release” by my own hands again. I imagine you fucking me after I have fucked myself. I want to bury your face between my thighs and let my passion pass into you like a fjord. I beg and beg and beg and I am not ashamed.
I want to lie flush against you and to feel your heat and weight close over me like a wave. Hold me until I learn to breathe water, until I begin to flow as water, until my walls deliquesce. I’ll live my truth. I’ll savor the anticipation. I’ll surrender. I’ll love you gently. I’ll love you obsessively. I’ll give of myself selflessly. I’ll covet you. I’ll remain wild. I’ll let you pin me down and kiss me until your taste becomes inextricable from my own. I’ll dance. I’ll dream. I’ll love you until my ego falls away and I become the very embodiment of love.
With everything that I am your DF
I know I am stating the obvious here but you are impatient and in your impatience clumsy. You live life in two modes like the shadows at your heels will overtake you if you stop to catch your breath/as if you were already suffocating inside those shadows. There is a middle ground. Make friends with your shadows. As far as shadows go, they are alright. Now that you are no longer locked in survival mode you want to make up for lost time, to live your life according to your own principles, to pursue your dreams organically and with abandon. I get that. I respect that. A few things to keep in mind on your quest for a more fulfilling/well-rounded life. There is one relationship which is by its very nature is eternal and that’s the relationship you have with yourself. You have to nurture that relationship because all other relationships are built upon that foundation. Getting to know yourself is a lifelong process. So at the risk of sounding insane listen to the voices inside your head. Change is inevitable. The pauses count. The pauses we take give us time to recover, build, and grow. They are critical to the journey. A pause can bring with it much needed perspective and inspiration. Pace yourself. At the end of the day success is a fleeting thing. Our life isn’t composed of millions of big moments crammed together but of millions of seemingly inconsequential moments with intermittent flashes of genius. Enjoy those seemingly inconsequential moments. Do something with your life that makes the drudgery of day to day existence mean something because much of life is just putting one foot in front of another over and over again whatever the weather. By weather I don’t just mean what is going on outside either. Our emotions too are like weather. They come and go. Every state of our being is vital to the miracle that is our lives. Be happy. Be sad. Be angry. Be ecstatic. Be anything at all. Feel even if it hurts sometimes and it’s going to hurt sometimes.
I first want to start out by congratulating you for surviving childhood. There were many years when survival comprised the totality of your existence. It might not be much conciliation when you reflect back on your life, as it was, and realize that huge chunks of your childhood are missing but somehow despite everything you came out on the other side stronger. It can be difficult sometimes to recognize the strength within yourself when at the most vulnerable points in your life you were preyed upon by the people you trusted most but you’re clever/industrious/wicked creative. You found ways to protect yourself. You created force fields. You turned inward. You built an entire world out of nothing. A world that allowed you some semblance of safety and joy.
What I am about to say to you now won’t make much sense given all the effort it took you to create that world but here goes. I need you to tear down those walls. I need you to deconstruct that world and join “the world”. I am not going to lie to you. There are monsters out here. Monsters in the guise of men. Monsters are in the minority though and you already have plenty of practice slaying monsters. You are ready. The world needs you because it is people like you who are capable of doing the impossible. The thing is you were always stronger than your father emotionally/mentally. You broke the cycle. You stood up to him. If you stay locked inside your fortress you will become weaker and predators prey on weakness. The fortress makes you more visible to the wrong sort of people, to the monsters. Monsters love dark hiding places. You are in hiding. It’s time to switch from survival mode to living mode. That world you created for yourself was made for a child. It doesn’t suit you anymore. It’s cramped. It’s dank. It’s boring as fuck. It’s full of bad memories. Every morning you wake in that cocoon that you call sanctuary and you relive a little bit of that horror. A horror that has seeped into the walls. When you built your fortress you didn’t add any windows because, at the time, the sight of your own life was itself, trauma. If you had built windows then you would be able to see just how much your life has changed. While you’ve been growing up I have been out here building a new life, from scratch. Thing is, if you’re not here with me, how can I possibly know what you want? I think I have done a decent job, in any case, it’s a start.
If you are still feeling trapped. It’s not for a lack of options/free will. It’s because you are still crammed into that smelly shell of yours. A shell which is so tight it is cutting off your circulation and making it harder to breathe. Those feelings you are feeling which you take to be proof of an ongoing war are actually just claustrophobia and atrophy. There is a solution for those painful/uncomfortable feelings. Get naked. Go outside. You’ll feel better. The abusers in your life created a script for you, an identity. Have you read that script? It’s shit. Write a new one. Create a life worth living in.
Let’s start with the basics. Just how many reapers are out there and from whence do they come? Are you capable of maintaining multiple manifestations at once? Do you operate outside of time and space? Do you have a residence or do you reside in the living, a faithful and sometimes unwelcome companion? What of the afterlife have you seen it? Can you speak of it with impunity? Does the uncertainty of it eat you up inside? Are we already dead, caught in the residuum of a once formidable existence? Do we repeat the same life or do we live out countless lives? Is it true that I am everyone who has ever lived and ever will live? I read that somewhere once and it sounded plausible.
If all things contain their opposites are you responsible for births as well? Do you speak with the deceased, assuage their fears, offer council for the journey ahead? Does each person realize their own vision of the afterlife or do we simply end?
Sometimes I have dreams that I am death. In these dreams I know the other side and I guide souls across eased by my own understanding. If this is the true reality of death then it is not to be feared. It simply denotes a passage. If this is death than it is extricable from birth. Do these dreams mean anything? Are dreams the boundary between all realities, the interstices that bind ribs and consolidate hearts? Are we all psychopomps bound in an intangible labyrinth between what we blindly consider life and death?