We see these animalistic liars – I do. I, myself and others, too. What good is an interesting character without the observation of the Other? How do we see ourselves, but as the object of another?
I made myself go swimming (fear of going there alone), and it was quick and lovely. I swam back and forth, with my eyes closed to keep out the light. Listening to the waters around me, being moved by me. After the pool, I got into the hot tub. Wondered if anyone was watching me from above. Didn’t care. Let them observe. Let them use me however they’d like to from behind the darkness of day-glass. I took a cold shower and rinsed my hair at the outside shower, taking the elastic band out, the clip, too, that held it all close. Long, wet and black, like a seal’s back, I imagined it looked from away. My eyeliner and mascara unflatteringly muddied under my eyes. I went home and rubbed Rosehip oil into my face. My skin feels good. Cool to the touch, my whole body. My damp hair. Freckles a little darker now, and plentiful.
All that matters is what I think of and about my Self. That’s all we really have control over, truly. Prove me wrong. I’ll fight you for it – you’ll lose.
Extroversion and enthusiasm and zest for flight – these kinds of people I don’t like to see those people suffer. But they do. Here’s an important thing:
It is a fascinating time to be alive. Fascinating, I suppose as it has always been to be no one in particular. A freckle on the nose. A cute feature of a gnome’s dream, us. Us. The absolute and total separateness of Us. Yet here we all are, together, embracing fully only in our dreams. Dreams lost to tides of hopelessness and helplessness, we. Yet life, it is so truly beautiful, and magical, and MYSTICAL!!! Violet and indigo! Fuscia and yellow!!! Light and shadow!!Beauty, filth, and chaos. Together. Dividing, and multiplying. Ruination. Reincarnation. Revelation. Reunification. Regeneration. Regulation. Ruination. Reincarnation; etc. It sounds scary, and it is.
I would like to make videos of me talking to the Universe about what it is like in this glass jar.
Oh, Brittney Spears is a fucking human-trafficing victim.
This was ADORABLE
You know why you really have to be yourself, and really love yourself, and really know yourself? Because no one else, no matter how much they do, will ever love you or know you fully. No one person. Never. Ever. That is why self-love and self-acceptance are crucial to one having a happy life. Critical; needed; a must.
An Everyday Angel, or, a Rude Genius? Which one would I rather be? The one in the middle. And that one is? Human. Totally, straight vanilla human. A monster and a savior. I have that inside me. It’s the secret to my understanding of self (and acceptance and understanding of everyone else, too), kinda like the first truth I ever knew about myself. I would love to save you, but under other circumstances, I’d love to see your bones crushed and such. Needed: broader understandings; better interpretations. Goodness for once and all. Who we are is important. Who we are matters. Profound, are we. Really, I really mean that.
When the waters come in, what is tall will fall.
Some days, you just ain’t winnin’. Some days you’re the bully and somedays you’re the victim; but usually you’re just some guy out in his backyard, trying to
“Good Art is worth making, Jen” That’s what my guardian angel told me. We, in life, carve our knives through the body of the Ocean. We weep. I am an artist. I am a mystery writer.
Understanding is not the same as knowing. There are many schools. Higher schools. It’s a serious time. Some types of times last years. Many of them do.
A client brought me a huge slice of chocolate cake from BLUEBERRY HILL! The memory of being outside, facing east at pre-dawn. Watching the magical-blue sky of the Unicorn Dawn. The stars, the planets Venus and Mars. Empty desert lots that were turning the sharp corner of going from nothing-really’s to becoming extremely valuable. Before Walmart was everywhere and all hope was lost.
I feel like I should go back and delete at least half of this post here; but I don’t want to edit. I just don’t. They can’t all be gems. I may have to let some fields grow wild and be full of repetative daisies. Shitty, obvious daisies.
Everyone should have a church inside them that worships their rainbow self. I know I’ve got one, and I know it makes me batshit insane, but it also makes me very special, even if no one can or will ever see it; BUT, but, everyone relates to this. They know at the core how special they are – that’s part of why a lot of adults hate a lot of children, you know? Anyway, everyone – every fucking one of us, of them – is just as golden. At the core we are all lonely and that makes us a little sad, but there is a cure for that: it is Self-love and love of the Other.
Not getting high isn’t working out.
But I’m having a good, good life. A very good, interesting, sometimes fun, sometimes shitty life. It’s all good, even when it’s bad.
Even if just for the summer. I cannot believe the level of anxiety I feel, just from parting from this place, even for my own good, my own betterment – and even so, only temporarily. I have the anxiety…like an addiction. I feel very bad about it. I feel like I have gotten on a bus, to go far away (too far to walk), and am at the mercy of others. Such a strange development. I am deeply surprised and have a sense of having lost control. Its tie to here, this, my writings and pictures place is obvious. This place I put things that have nowhere else to go and are only expressed in this way – this place has become a home of mine. Home of mind.
I chose very recently to quit smoking pot so I could be hyper-aware and be able to focus on things that require different parts of my brain to focus and come forward and do work, and it was a good idea, for sure it was correct, but jesus christ. It’s intense enough of a fucking big deal that I want to mark it in time – here – so that I can see where this goes with the evidence to stir memory in future when everything will probably be totally different.
I dunno. What a helpless freakshow I feel like right now. I will settle, and I want to see how that happens, but I don’t like this feeling AT ALL and I hope it goes away very soon for fuck’s sake.
I need wisdom, power and peace. Why oh why did I lift up my anchor?
I appreciate that we all simply MUST go through these weird and scary places. We have to go to the dentist and be willingly vulnerable and at the mercy of people and places, but over time, we do these things because we know we need to and because our tomorrow-selves depend on us to do the right things, as soon as possible.
I have to keep…I have to make that breakthrough. I have to get out the paint. I want to see that dark indigo night surrounding my illustrated spirit. The animals that are my totem. The music that is a sacred place echoing from the underground inside me. I’m struggling. I appreciate that it isn’t special to struggle. I’m soon going to be grateful for the deepening my suffering will create. Like the force of water, the deluge from above, I am deepened in parts of me that will remain to refresh me daily and nurture the parts of my world – above and below – and enable me to be a place in this world. A walking breathing darkness where others can benefit and find a shadowy respite in an overly saturated, overly lit, loudly advertised world.