Monday, November 29, 2010

untitled

1. If you look for it, you're going to find it. Even if it's not there.

2. I have a hard time setting books on the floor.

3. Gravitation, electromagnetism, weak interaction and strong interaction are our primary Commitments to God that we'll stick around to learn some lessons on Earth. The Four Agreements are the best way to operate given those initial Commitments. Funny how there are four, and Four. I'm not dumb, you know.

4. If you bring it up, they'll follow it up. We're all the leader in every given circumstance. Why?

5. Because of the Principle of Certainty. Nietzsche was wrong; it's not the Will to Power, because it's not necessarily about domination for the sake of domination. Most of the time, someone's desire, or their happiness, is the strongest thing for miles, and when we see certainty with such weight to it, we latch onto and agree to that, unless ours is stronger. The bitch of it is, when you don't realize that you're not having the fun you're supposed to be having.

6. Playboy Philosopher Bunny. Not King.

7. Forgiveness is, "I see how you went wrong. I know you didn't know what you were doing. I disagree with what you did, and I can stand here, next to you, and be with you, even while I disagree with you. I don't have to leave." But sometimes, you have to leave. We're human, we can only take so much.

8. It's a tough thing, realizing you're Ray Porter, when you're so used to being the Mirabelle.

9. Walking in Faith, not in sight.

10. If you're being honest, then all of it is Church. The most attractive thing is to be able to say "I'm broken in half for these reasons" because if you're not aware, then you're not conscious.

11. Beauty is humility, hope, and faith, even if you're not sure what you're hoping for. It's the perfect triangle. It's the strongest bond. Why? Because it permits all things to be possible. It's by saying "I KNOW" that you lose out on vast quantities and qualities of life.

12.

Friday, November 26, 2010

Keep The Talent Happy

I don't know what to do.

I could actually feel, at the most intense moments, when I was most conscious of the loss of you, and of my hand in that loss, and my guilt over it, of destroying my own happiness, that with every word I wrote to you, trying to get you back, I was pushing you further away. My desire felt like one edge of the sword, and your best interest felt like the other. I can no longer believe that this is true. I want to be on your side.

It's been weeks, and I still wake up every morning, and you are the first thing on my mind. The next thing I think is, "where are you?"

My day is a multi-dimensional graph, with every possible truth value representing a line, and every day, I hit every single point on that graph, sometimes twice or three times. Every point, every intersection is a set of possibilities: that you still care, that you still want to be with me, but that you cannot because you have been hurt by me too much. That you care, but that I caused too much damage, but that in a few months, it could happen for us again. That you don't care now, but that you did, but you cannot now. That you cared, but because I couldn't see it, there is no chance for the future. That I was totally alone in all of this. That I was not alone in all of this, but because I couldn't appreciate you the way you deserved, because you are a gem, you must move forward, without me. That even though I apologized, you still cannot go forward. That you can go forward, but because I haven't tried enough, you are, every day, moving away from me. That if I leave it all alone, it'll come back. That if I don't fight for you, I'll lose you forever. That if I leave it all alone, it'll come back. That if I don't fight for you, and tell you I was wrong and you were right, I'll lose you forever. That if I leave it all alone, it'll come back.

I read something by Dostoevksy once: "What is hell? The inability to love." He's right. But I've also come to realize that Hell is actually just uncertainty. It's not having a grounding point, a foundation, against which to measure all other things. I'm not asking for sympathy. I'm asking to be saved. I don't know what to measure anything against, and because I've trusted myself for so long, it's unbelievably uncomfortable to rely on God to do what is right. It lasts a few minutes, and then I forget it all, reality comes in and argues against me. I write out a few ideas that I have to MAKE true, that I have to MAKE a reality out of, because if I don't, then I've got nothing.

1. Miracles are happening all the time, all around me.
2. I am the miracle, and I am taking place right now.
3. God is in control. Do you think God is worried? Then why are you?
4. Anything is possible.

The thing I love most about you is the line you draw in the sand. But I cannot stomach the idea that I'm forever on the wrong side of that line. And I don't know what to do about that. I only know how to fight in one way: by taking action, with words. By arguing for what is right, against what was wrong.

"I love you... my responsibility has found a place beside you." This is what you are to me. This is what you represent. You are the call to Jesus, if you will. You are the rock against which I've come to measure pretty much everything; and you've done this, without trying. This is you, naturally. For months, I've been arguing against it, against this possibility, that one person could refute so much of everything I've thought, my whole life, and represents everything I've hoped for, my whole life; everything I've denied, and everything I've secretly hoped is true. I pushed it all away, I pushed you away, and I know now, what a mistake it was, to fight against my own happiness. Life doesn't like it. My life doesn't like it, without you.

"My responsibility has found a place beside you".

And now,

"Put your little hand in mine..."

It's not too late to change your mind.

Monday, November 15, 2010

It's Time.


This is the only thing I know how to do.

It's been a week of non-stop nausea. I'm sure I've lost weight and for once I don't care.

When I'm slow, and deliberate, I can say the truth. This is the version of me that I respect; this is the girl that I've wanted to be, the girl inside of me that stands for something even more solid and profound than my mind ever could recognize. This is the one you cannot fuck with. This is the girl you should fear. She's been a long time in the making.

It's something even better than I could have imagined. I don't think it's too late. I think it's right on time, it had to be now, it had to happen this way or it would maybe never happen at all... this is the storybook of my life, this is where the roller-coaster hit the top and it's all downhill from here, nausea included. This is where the wings are built, they are built on the way down. This is how you fly: not by leaping up and soaring, but by cliff-jumping.

I keep saying "your will, not mine. your will, your peace, your security, not mine." I'm not sure any of what I do now, since such prayers, is right. I don't know that it aligns. All I know is that it's not going to be perfect; it can never be perfect. I'll fight the best way I know how, and if there's no one else out on that field, then I'll go home. And I'll also learn how to not fight those closest to me.

It's what I've suspected, forever: that if it's comfortable, it'll do you in. "I encourage you to sit with what's uncomfortable," she said. Only I couldn't listen. This is a new kind of learning. Or really, this is learning, for the first time.

You could still ignore me.

You could still shut me out. That's that, then, I suppose. I had to try. I had to tell you that you were not alone, that you were there the whole time, that I was the one who couldn't see. I was too afraid. It's a radical way to look at things, but then again, what in life is not radical? What is it that doesn't deserve a miracle? The problem is when you're too stuck in your pain to realize that you've been forgiven all along. Vision, I am relearning. I don't think it's too late, I think it's right on time.