could we do it right?

"life is not a dream. beware. and beware. and beware." and so many think because then happened, now isn't. but didn't i mention the ongoing "wow" is happening right now? we are all co-authors of this dancing exuberance where even our inabilities are having a roast. we are the authors of ourselves, co-authoring a gigantic dostoevsky novel, starring clowns. this entire thing we're involved with called the world, is an opportunity to exhibit how exciting alienation can be. life is a matter of a miracle that is collected over time by moments, flabbergasted to be in each other's presence. the world is an exam to see if we can rise into direct experience. our eyesight is here as a test to see if we can see beyond it. matter is here as a test for our curiosity. doubt is here as an exam for our vitality. thomas mann wrote that he would rather participate in life than write 100 stories. giacometti was once run down by a car, and he recalled falling into a lucid faint, a sudden exhilaration, as he realized that at last something was happening to him. an assumption develops that you cannot understand life and live life simultaneously. i do not agree entirely. which is to say i do not exactly disagree. i would say that life understood is life lived. but the paradoxes bug me, and i can learn to love and make love to the paradoxes that bug me. and on really romantic evenings of self, i go salsa dancing with my confusion. before you drift off, don't forget. which is to say, remember. because remembering is so much more a psychotic activity than forgetting. in that same poem it said that the iguana will bite those who do not dream. and as one realizes that one is a dream figure in another person's dream, that is self awareness.


things are changing. with the new year just around the corner anticipation and excitment is building. ive been on a rollercoaster ride the last few months, not knowing exactly where it is i would end up. but i am actively making changes to better my outlook. i had a nice time with a nice boy and that is done now. that is what i choose to remember. a lesson well learnt. hey death, you aint got me yet..

play russian roulette as we kiss

guts out everywhere. i haven't been this sick in so long, but i have a roof, a bed and a lot of time to think. drifting again, i must write the stories from the ends of the earth, stories from the depths of my heart. im looking forward to christmas, ice cream, beach hats and long days with just laughter and music. and i am thankful for all of this, even though it hurts so much i have lived extraordinary things these past years. i must find new ways to feel again, find the courage i had when i lived in the woods, find ways to write a story everyday, to communicate without words. i must find the way to see my hands in my dreams. to add colours to every experience, every moment. to stop being so stubborn over the smallest things.. we're way past inappropriate.

tomorrow i am sending away my application to the australian red cross to volunteer in the yconnect? programs. gym on thursday with karli. life is picking up. a decision needs to be made soon - will i have the guts? i can't be your saving grace.

the world doesn't stop just because i do.

poisoned

i need somewhere for the quixotic and the senseless and the raw and the hushed things to go.

i can't seem to properly grow into what i am supposed to be. all my parts are so counter to one another. so unalike and so horribly mashed into the same shifting body that i couldn't tell you which face i was wearing at what time. when god put me together he left something out.

the truth hurts more than lies.