blahging-blah-blah

yoga was hard.  told my teach that i feel like a fallen leaf on the ground, and could not imagine “being strong” in plank.  but i did it anyway.  as part of my practice of moving through resistance…while still allowing myself to wilt and die, and be gentle in the practice too….staying child-like about it, cause it’s just movement.  you know how things get sucked into the surface?  how something deep and real, gets eaten by the image?  like with hippies, who are all about love and peace, but all culture notices about hippies are tie-dye and smelly arm pits.  that’s what this culture’s shadow temperament is; a soul sucking surface monster, gobbling up depth for dinner, and leaving behind only the image.  physical beauty is something i partake in loving…yet not without the essence intact.  attraction wise, i am much more attracted to a man with grace, an open heart, sense of humor, and ability to listen…and it turns me on….no matter how pretty his face.  a pretty face is just a pretty face.  body sizes don’t do much in the typical sense for me, but i can sense in the physical, where energy is stuck, lost, or stagnating, and it turns me off.  i am turned on by turned on energy.  i am turned on by the soul, and how it shines through the costume.  costumes are fun too.  since yoga, i don’t care so much about my tummy fat, though sometimes i get the urge to have it all gone, so i look better.  then i wake up from that stupidity when i feel how unattractive it is to self criticize, and how sexy self acceptance is.  that sounds annoying to say.  sexy is an annoying word.  for me, i don’t need shame anymore to be turned on.  domination can still feel good, because of the natural animal nature of masculine and feminine energies, but being bad or naughty does not make sense.  it seems silly to me.  connection isn’t scary when you are totally right here, raw, real, open.  there aren’t any movies playing.  it’s weird, the emptiness that takes the place of desire’s projections.  today, i was noting how gotham city has arrived in seattle.  that’s our winter.  it’s dark and creepy, it can be desolate and strange.  it’s its own movie, alright.  the spirit of a place…not just seattle, but capitol hill, the vortex.  the way we get shaped by it.  the icy personalities, not aloof, but unsure how to be warm.  that mix of friendly and detached.  it’s not really for me.  but i have become accustomed.  tonight, i walked home in the rain, after grilling the grocery store guy about scotches, cause i felt like being neighborly.  i don’t want to treat people like roles.  the walk home felt sweet like cinnamon.  realizing how much i enjoy walking in the rain.  wanna do that for hours.  maybe tomorrow…