free flow #13

on an epistemological kick cause i can’t kick the feeling of being interested in how people really believe what they think they know to the point of calling it truth. you can feel it in the tone, you know? a person’s tone more than the content conveys how true or right they think they are. i feel ultra supple right now. i mean, i am really being visited by softness. i don’t know what is true and right. i only know what is loving. i don’t know if anything the spiritual truths of antiquity says about right now or life is true. i don’t know if there is objective truth or not. i don’t know what the journey or the outcome of this mess we are in will be. i don’t want to step on heads or project my agency and yet i do. i do by using my phone and wearing these clothes and not saying no to so many things i buy and do that step on heads indirectly. this i know is fact. why it is happening, well what the hell is that? i know that treating everybody as equal is loving and i cannot help but do anything different. if i unconsciously offend, say, or do something that hurts another in any way i want to own it.  i love, this is what i know. what is truth? the fundamentalist religious person of any faith will tell you and tell you it is god saying so, unless they are a fundamentalist atheist in which case they will tell you the only truth is that things are just being things, or however they would say it. the metaphysical practitioner in the magical world i have steeped in for years will tell you why it is the planets making it so and what the yugas mean and how this is all happening based on deeper vibrations underneath appearances. and so forth, you get what i mean. i am just noticing all these truths and paying attention to how i know what i know as my emotions roll like a rolling snail in this mess we are in. i want to take responsibility and notice that what increases my vitality is to feel a sense of truth. to meaning-make raises my life force. this contemplative space that holds no truths is not life force raising, it is sort of a neutral space. i have to be here right now. i have to empty my cup and return to beginner’s mind. i have to be soft and supple. i have to return to only love. i watch hopelessness and hope tango in passionate embrace inside my heart with a weird look on my face. i feel my strange vibration. i notice others and how they speak from a sense of truth and i wonder, how do you know what you know? this is me soaking in the deep deep blue. i know my urges. my urge is not be dominating, not to stomp on anyone’s sense of meaning, not to be all, “i know this is what it is,” but instead the urge is to notice as my body grieves and the reality of this state turns to molten ashes. my urge is to be grace. my urge is to love with an honest face. my urge is to keep fluid and moving and to rest and be careful with my words and love with carefulness. i know crosby stills and nash is rocking my heart in a way that feeds me. how do i know these urges? i feel them. you can tell how a person knows what they know in the feeling they exude. even he who says the mind is prison says it with tender conviction. isn’t it strange? i probably need to be held tightly. i am waxing and zooming and rising and when i come down into this body it is crying and soaking in deep deep blue and judy blue eyes fills my senses with food. i have a major fan crush on steven stills too. the electric heat makes me sneeze as i fight off yet another cold storming through. dreaming so intense last night. so intense that i woke up disoriented. each day i am unsure what tangent universe this is. but why talk about it. living in the music feels better. raising the vibration of love feels good. music is the biggest food of all right now. more more more music.

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