Date: 9/22/21
Time: 10:06PM

There's lots to say, I guess I'm focusing on speaking about myself with a certain brutality lately; it is easy to find myself stripping away the flavors and spices of my history and speaking so abstractly... being able to share is nice, but there are still so many truths unsaid, I wish to speak them all into existence and be accepted, by even just one person who can give me empathy without platitude, that is hope to me...

I wish for a spot in me that grows, I wish for a spot in me that moves, I wish for a spot in me that rains, in the name of listening, in the name of closeness, and the mouths I find in the silence, may they always choose to whisper to me... may Lazuli always send me voice memos of them singing my songs, may Wren always have stale veggie straws in their pantry, may Judy always eat the rice I make, may everyone I love leave an indelible trace on my life, for me to visit and revisit whenever life sets us apart.. may I accept the separation I am given in this life and be brought closer to myself through it

Date: 9/14/21
Time: 11:53PM

OK, got my shit together, went to a few meetings, stayed in bed until 10am, watched Ratcatcher with Steve, ate many spoonfuls of jedra with tahini sauce, wove some magical waveforms, everything will be fine, open as ever for miracle and change.

Date: 9/11/21
Time: 11:15AM

Slippery prickly somatic choreographed pushing purging

Pouring a gasoline can of ignorance all over my shadows so the narratives consume me instead of seductively pouring flames all over my ignorance. And so my silence does not become curiosity, questioning, un-knowing - it becomes winding neglect.... "little" "small"

All this time spent healing eternal wounds and I forgot about situational distress. I must continue to carry the message, or let it carry me, or both. *stares up at God* *eats granola* *blends specific seeds together for a spiritual trail mix* *cries cries cries in my bedroom*

Living with complex trauma is torturous but this universe does not belong to me... living love abundantly looks like accepting difficulties and offering yourself up for their instruction, endlessly, with grace and terror, tears in your eyes as you spend another day not feeling victorious..

Date: 9/9/21
Time: 12:42PM

I want to say something but shame prevents me

Date: 9/2/21
Time: 9:48PM

I cannot always be happy but I can always choose bravery

Lived normally today. My work has been encased in an archive, garage door sliding down, but not closing all the way. A little sliver at the bottom. Only a little dust is going to fall when I press the button to open it again. Listening to the sean-nós song Connor sent me on repeat... over and over and over in the car, in my bed, at work. But I woke up this morning with the song Luna sent me traveling from the back of my head to the front, quiet like visual snow

I'm shy about the details of my life because I don't want to set them down anywhere or with anyone that's outside of my life. I want my arms outstretched into a circle and to know someone is doing that back to me. We embrace our own circumstances while looking at one another. We become a part of each other's circumstances by looking at each other.

Whispering prayers to myself as I fall asleep

Date: 8/30/21
Time: 9:17PM

Isn’t it best to put the broken bits of pieces of my heart back together again. When I say I feel “crazy,” I mean the tether between me and reality has been frayed, severed, pulled taut, sliced, or seared. I mean I have either been taken or I have found my own path away from truth. Under duress the fountain of conviction ceases to amaze, etc, my stagnancy is attractive, awe is far, like seven-hundred miles away.... I pray and hunt for its scent, its aura, I practice summoning from bed, surrender to my weight as the light burns red

Fear, desperation, divine, fear desperation divine, fear desperation, divine, fear, desperation divine. My mind chatters too much, you recreate the same thing you had in your family because it’s just what you know. I am precise with my uncertainty. I am awake to my history. To my system of relating, I say... Why do I have this expectation? Why do I assume someone won’t come back? Why do I assume that it’s my job to monitor another person’s feelings? Why have I managed to become so overly focused on another person’s consistency? Where is this coming from?

Presence is a beautiful, fiery, magnificent spell! Isn't it best to keep trying... I've tried to stop, I cannot

Date: 8/26/21
Time: 8:26PM

January 29th, 2021: Do you want comfort or solutions
February 26th, 2021: No one needs celebrity to create a fantasy about themselves
March 5th, 2021: Shame ruins your capacity for reverie
April 15th, 2021: To see how my songs fit and shape themselves into your body
May 10th, 2021: Please desire more than just your fantasy of me
June 11, 2021: If I am a monster, I am waiting to be
July 24th, 2021: The rewards of my practice feel enduring
August 17th, 2021: I am only witness to what goes on inside of me

Date: 8/19/21
Time: 8:45PM

Of course our feelings exist to be interacted with, to be expressed, to give our bodies and minds usefulness, our feelings complete us. I feel sad, can make my face and body look sad, can catch the attention of someone near me, can incite conversation, can participate in the journey of endless movement and everlasting change with someone else. Same with pleasure, anger, hunger, joy, all visitors traveling and lighting up pathways. Giving me a way to connect and relate and give and receive. Feelings are to be experienced and interacted with, never ignored. I move with my feelings to keep things whole. And it so fucking pains me to witness self-silencing because I am still irrevocably connected to all the years I spent making decisions that were not in service to supporting my life here on Earth. I am grateful that the task I was given was to stay

When I read this poem from 2019 to Amy, she decisively said "it's so dark" and I smiled and nodded in the somber way I do.

"One foot first"
I’ll do it tomorrow when it’s dark
It will not be an empty act
I will step into the oil drum and
You will not even try to grip me

It is simply my opinion but shit catches up with you, and no amount of concealing can obscure a tree in totality. Someone will see the viscous network below your feet, someone will see the venous paper-thin leaves, someone will feel your rotting wooden insides. If the light keeps forcing you back to your childhood, you should go

Date: 8/12/21
Time: 10:50AM

Phone notes: a methodology for refusal, a list of sensory overwhelms, a long and winding unspoken share from AA meeting, dreams about Lillith, who handed me an embossed golden book, a little white dog, a twin bed, gratitude prayer for this growth cycle, an herb blend for Corey

Effie handed me a gilded and effusive compliment and I glittered (part of the growth cycle: going outside feels like posing in bondage). Human beings are not built in silence; love - transposed feelings, action arranged in accordance with the transposition, declaration of intent, extension of will for sake of mutual nourishment - allows us to be loud.

I don’t like Paulo Freire’s distinction between humans and animals; I am devoted to being responsible for myself and to acknowledging that my circumstances are my own, inform my movement, must be communicated to be known by others, but we are all also deeply a part of each other’s circumstances, must take equal responsibility for one another to truly be in accordance with love. Animal activity and wisdom is creative, profound, transformative, permanently affecting… obviously? If we turn away from the instruction of non-human animals, we lose touch with feeling, focus on ideas only (and ideas are... "there are no new ideas, only new ways of making them felt")

Foam of my Pisces placements rising to the top

Date: 8/07/21
Time: 2:43PM

I know now I could never remain untouched, and I forgive myself for the things I didn’t accept before. Every encounter refers me away from myself, back to myself, away again. Every time I let go, thousands of lifetimes show me new dreams. Thousands of lifetimes show me myriad beings. The losses can barely fit inside my mouth but now the past flashes upward at every instance of word. I renounce my past silence, what I allowed to remain invisible, unpinned, halved and unwhole, consolatory.

I wrote in 2019: "I’m in a world imagined. And it’d be unimaginable until now. Unbelievable how the world will always be new to me. I always want to lose my heart in it."

July 2021
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