(no subject)

You long for sunlight because it makes all the broken bits of glass stuck in your junkyard of a heart sparkle like diamonds or something valuable. now you never have to stare off at the horizon and wonder if love will come back to you, because you are surrounded by strangers, each with their own broken bits, each reflecting back to you a different fragment of the beauty in your junkyard heart.

want and void
in the beginning was the immense want.
actually, that's all there ever was
except maybe the void trying to negate everything.
it pushed you away. it made me unworthy.
but the want, the want is what made me a madman. the want is what made it matter so much. the want is what made all these other words to try to explain and give a story, the want has been fueling all of society. the void is the want's permanent companion in the sense that it follows the want wherever it goes, slowly destroying from the inside all the worlds the want has built to fill the void. the want and the void always undoing each other perpetually as they go.

oh and then there's the sex drive.
it goes… love
love love
loveloveloveOHGOD!pleasepleaseplease please
(wordless desperation)

i have the face now of someone worn by the tides of being alive.
i feel myself aging, though I am still a child inside.
a once-wise psycho alone in a sociopathic world, better not show your true colors or they'll know you're a broken girl
now you've built your own prison out of necessity
a series of masks to protect your identity
your true self feels tricked, lost in the process
if i could just find some core within myself that's true
i believe in it still, even after all this mess
it's made me miserable, this long lived refusal of less
i watched all the trifles of the world pass by
refusing them all, refusing each safe lie
only to find this empty space
at the end of the rainbow
laughs in my face
develop a sense of humor,
it's all you can do
to try anything else would be fooling yourself, fool!

how to survive
what I do is build an island
of pillows in the middle of my bed
to which I safely cling
through all the storms of my dreams
I have a dark secret I like to laugh about
though it imprisons me
and a hopeless fantasy
I can't erase

tight like a gun shot
the way the skin clenches against the wound
i crave your hot words
laid out like slaved pavement and rage
patience and broken backed manliness
lay out a strength
to pin me to
so that I might be real too
real like strength
your core of stone
piercing me from the inside
tight like a gun shot wound

and then it was just dry, like the ocean
a tide too insurmountable
a dry so dry the song was just silent
the breath was ragged and wrought
the old familiar beauties were homesick and scrambled
and the night was insufferably long
the old familiar nags were wriggling and raw and
round and round it goes
madness on and on

through the inept machinery of weak human language
my soul is filtered
flailing, reaching, desperately creating symphonies
in hopes they will be heard on the other side
that my love can reflect back to me infinitely
endless sorrow to accompany
this orphan alien of me

(no subject)

A Prayer
Refuse to fall down
If you cannot refuse to fall down,
refuse to stay down.
If you cannot refuse to stay down,
lift your heart toward heaven,
and like a hungry beggar,
ask that it be filled.
You may be pushed down.
You may be kept from rising.
But no one can keep you from lifting your heart
toward heaven
only you.
It is in the middle of misery
that so much becomes clear.
The one who says nothing good
came of this,
is not yet listening.

— Clarissa Pinkola Estés (The Faithful Gardener: A Wise Tale About That Which Can Never Die)

(no subject)

i dont remember things in order.
the temple was divine.
death, fear, then I tell myself I need to be strong. I become strong without
noticing the transition, a
a giving in
to leaving behind the only reality i've ever remembered knowing
everything becomes fractals before I leave reality completely
being guided kind of through different stages of crazy beyond

almost dancing tauntingly itself an overtly sexual fractalic being dances and peaks out of the symmetry

then i'm
looking up at a constantly morphing tunnel of otherworldly energies
sometimes pillar or temple or pyramid-like
sometimes beings twisting up into the abyss of infinite possibility
towards even further reaches than i could possibly fathom or imagine
and I giggled and made twisted faces in wonder at how much it defied the reality I'd always known
as I slowly knew I was returning to my body
and the reality it's anchored to,
the tunnel/temple/energy pillars became a womb-like blanket wrapping around me

and I was back in the world of the mundane,
somewhat disoriented and
much older than when I left,
and with a vague map to some kind of inner greatness

i know now that there is far more to what exists than inside this reality
how far I can or am destined to go is yet to be seen
but having glimpsed a shard of the realms far beyond human comprehension
is strangely comforting
i know this is divine

(no subject)

we're part of a fractalic being of constant creation
a massive, cosmic ever unfolding divine organism that is constantly in the process of learning to love itself
its perpetual cycling between love and aversion propels evolution, but to what end?
there is no end, this is just an amazing dance of spontaneity (when dancing there is no intention to end up at a certain place, just being in the moment), a beautiful thing we can never fully comprehend. we can't get too attached to results, we just have to be as fully and elegantly and shrewdly and lovingly engaged with the process as we can be. i want to master it, but i know i can't. that's my ego talking and ego is clumsy too. i just have to accept it and be in it. look around and enjoy it.

(no subject)

in an effort to focus more on my blessings... i've decided to start trying to keep a weekly list of awesomeness

This Week's Awesome List

-being a book glutton. right now i am especially loving books that make me feel hopeful and remind me to be courageous rather than a wimp :)
(for example anything by Clarissa pinkola Estes or Pema chodron)
-this guy's review of catcher in the rye (cliffnote: he didn't like it)
-my roommate's face wash, which smells like tea tree oil
-that Dan is actually letting me stay here for free (I sleep on his couch). I make up for it by cleaning and cooking.
-the crisp fresh air of october, and planning out my fairy costume
-the bright-ass almost neon paints that Kyla lent me and the art book I am filling with them
-that my sweet-talking abilities were able to get my friend's stolen bike back from the manager at the gas station who supposedly knew nothing about it. (sadly, I'm also considering asking him for a job)
-my new favorite pair of jeans, which are really hand-me-downs that used to be too tight on me and now are the only jeans that fit perfectly. they have a small hole in the knee which i also kinda like.
-late night phone conversations with awesome people
-playing harmonica
-hula hooping
-it's 62 out today :) and I'm about to hang out with my sister and my nephew August, who I adore:

-something actually feels really nice about coming out of a horribly depressing funk to see everything so much clearer than before.. makes it feel worth it.
-the self portraits i took the other day:

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(no subject)

autumn electrifies the air and rustles leaves with it's eerie promise of quiet white
death settling over everything to clean away the old
the same way i bleed heavily
my fingertips and toes
are crisp and harshly cold
and i do not have a lover to hold,
only loving thoughts toward cherished
far away folk
in the simmering solitude of my own yolk

(no subject)

"When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall — think of it, always."

(no subject)

"Aren't we privileged to live in a time when everything is at stake, and
when our efforts make a difference in the eternal contest between the
forces of light and shadow, between togetherness and division, between
justice and exploitation? Oh, be joyful that you are a warrior in this great

"Will we rise to this battle? If so, we cannot lose, for rising up to it is our
victory . . . If we represent love in the world, you see, we have already

- Doris "Granny D" Haddock from her 93rd birthday speech
(no idea who this is, just like the quote)