From a loud cafe playing Ozzie…

I’m writing this blog on my phone because it’s the only thing to pull me out of the exhausted haze I’m in. In a cafe to escape my apartment oven. It’s loud in here and I hate the noise. I don’t want to listen to Ozzie full blast among all the summer bodies, doors clanging, steem wafting…but I cannot escape. This is my life right here and now. Wailing Ozzie and the novel Steppenwolf that makes me sleepy when I attempt to read it, though I want to read it badly. It’s hard to focus in here and my mind hurts and I’m craving silence but outside feels sticky and hazy like my brain. Where am I? Come here, now. Now. Here. Humans with books, laptops, coffee, tea, beer, sandwiches, glasses and plates. Oh, moment, I’m sorry but I crave to be somewhere else. I don’t want this anymore. I want to be new and somewhere new. But I can appreciate this too. Air conditioning cools my balmy skin. Loud music sucks the sorrow out of me. I’m not up to my old stories again. The summer is dying. The old me is dying. My love is dying too. Old love, that is. The kind of love that hangs on to sand castles and travels like the wind. This heart that beats inside this skin is passionate and scarlet red. I couldn’t pretend to be anything less. Like the glowing neon R of the beer sign I see before me. Like the melting ice in the cold brew coffee I’m drinking. Wait. Melting ice is not passionate, not one bit. Melting ice is that other part of me speaking. I wish to melt away into nothingness. I am melting under Shiva’s fire. Ozzie is unconscious medicine. No edit on this one. Not even a read through. It is what is and I am see-through. 

random notes from a wilted flower…

i feel strange, new, tired, bloated, spacey, bright, confused. i am the moon. i am the unconscious on the surface. ideas are flooding through. old demons are slithering away back to the shadow and i know soon the shadow will slither away too. i don’t feel like making logical sense. feels like too much containment to make logical sense. i need right brained action this morning. getting on the mat feels too hard so i may take a long walk instead. not sure if i can hold my muscles in place. so fatigued. so looking forward to a week with my folks in vegas. needing to get out of this routine i have been in non-stop since i was in vegas last. when was that? christmas? yeah, i think it’s been about five months. the sky is blue. the sun is warming the land. the ceiling fan is always on. i feel emptied out and flattened out like a pancake. i don’t know. maybe i wont post this blog but i suppose i just will. this blog is written from the energy of a wilted flower. i need to get my energy levels back up this morning so yeah, gonna force myself out on a fast walk before work. ladeeda blah blah blah boring boring blog oh well, stream of consciousness come on through for two more minutes, the color blue, the way the dawn feels when i am not feeling blue is pink but this is a blue dawn, i am depleted i think, but maybe not, maybe i am just detoxing from the health kick i have been on this past week…it’s hard to say so i just wont say it, gonna listen to music instead and play it like it’s rolling through…

getting the weekend out on monday morning…

monday is here again. i have not interacted with anybody since friday evening, except to order coffee or pay for something at a store. solitude city. so much solitude that interacting will feel strange today for a minute. learning to jump from the cold pool to the hot pool and switch modes with grace. i needed the silence to get my paper done. sometimes being with others makes it too hard for me to focus and tap into my intelligence. i am so freakin sensitive. so sensitive that i found myself wide awake with insomnia saturday night feeling existential fear and sorrow. sometimes being alone at night, in my shabby abode, i feel alone in a way that terrifies me. i feel existentially alone. the things humans do to be human is very grounding. it’s grounding to sleep beside somebody at night. it’s grounding to cook and eat dinner with another and to check in with them each day. it’s grounding to take care of a pet. ground control to major tom. oh, but i have been on the ground. finished my work yesterday afternoon and spent all day in the park making art and laying in trees. summer is here and i think it’s here to stay. i gotta write a huge paper due mid-august but my goal will be to have sunday afternoons spent laying in trees and making art in the park. self care is extra vital right now as the world crumbles and i am pushed past my limit with school and the sorrow of being alone in a home that temporary with no future home in sight. scary. i feel fucking terrified for my future, to be quite honest. i don’t know how i am going to make it in this world, sometimes. i know i am beckoning my underworld journey, for my paper, and i suppose it is here, greeting me. hello shadow. fear, hello. just keep breathing through it. making art helps so much. there is this huge beautiful tree stump the size of a small studio, in the park. kids play on it. adults play on it. i sat on it and felt the tree both dead and alive at once. i drew the spirit of the tree mixed with the spirit of me. i found comfort in my death. i felt sorrow for chris cornell’s death. there was a memorial created in the park for him. i could feel his soul inside the sorrow of his fans. his death was likely an accidental suicide, due to taking too much ativan. he was young and close with his wife and kids, according to what i read. how devastated they must be. life can change in the blink, remember. your life mate could die in the blink. you could die in the blink. security is truly an illusion. the good thing about spending so much time alone in a rice and beans bohemian style fashion, is that i am not attached to what can go away in the blink. don’t get me wrong, i wanna get attached. i want to live a human life. but i am glad to form detachment before attachment, for round two. i am very attached to my parents, which is round one. i was very attached to my wounds for a long time. i know attachment well. i suppose, since summoning the shadow, i have been steeping in death. the shadow is not only what the ego cannot metabolize in terms of characteristics, but also what the ego cannot metabolize in terms of actions, such as death at any moment. maybe it’s sick, but i feel proud of my ability to enter the shadow boldly. i feel like a pioneer. pluto, planet of death, is right over my north node in the exact degree, house twelve. i take it to mean many things, and one thing is that pluto is asking me to surrender to what feels like lack in my life. it is not lack. it is a call to find fulfillment in house twelve matters, namely, unconditional love, compassion, spirit, oneness. it is abundance that i am without the temporal comforts of the human being and i do have some comforts. i have a roof, food, friends, education, and family. i have a lot. my culture teaches me that without a mate, a nice home, and plenty of money, i don’t have the goods. part of this has to do with identifying with my cultural baseline. anyhow, no more analyzing. time to get on the mat. routine routine routine…

evening goo goo dolls lunacy spew…

i can’t stop listening to “slide” by the goo-goo dolls right now. over and over and over (2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7). i love this song so much, i love the video. i know it’s about a young couple deciding whether to have an abortion or get married, yet in my heart it’s about other things. it’s about secure attachment singing his love song to avoidant attachment. it’s about true love cracking into a mirror. my longing is satiated. the pent up energy finds an outlet out of this body. i can feel my animal nature heating up, wanting to sink my teeth into something luminous and raw. he came to me in the car, maharaji, my guru. i feel silly saying it cause i don’t have “a guru” or anything like it…it’s more a term of endearment cuz he comes to me when i call as he promises when he says once you take his hand, he will never let go. i take his hand and he turns my demons into innocent children. divine feminine takes the hand of divine masculine. the monster in me, the humiliated and decrepit. the forsaken savage and ragged doll little girl. she avoids, she avoids, she avoids. like meg in the goo goo dolls video. she lives outside of this world. the story of where she comes from is not false. not all dreams are flaws. put your arms around me, what you feel is what you are and what you are is beautiful. we are not our thoughts and so why even use quotes? can we peel language off of the person who speaks it? when he sings it i slide into his room and run away run away run away. i needed this spew. felt it coming. i am submerged deep beneath logic and it’s scary here, to say the least. i don’t fear the fear cause i know how to make friends with the slow below violent darkness. the real darkness. the muted beckoning of the single celled bacteria crawling along longingly on the ocean floor. i am a bottom feeder. an electric eel. i make the human brain seem like something you can peel. i am nothing at all. you know what i wish i could do? paint this ocean in my head on a huge wall in a basement with music blasting. manifest! how will i write my papers from this surreal place? i open myself to new ways. it’s crazy what can happen when you stop identifying with who you are. try it. don’t identify with your thoughts, moods, feelings, or beliefs for one day. watch them all flare like young and dumb partiers, like addicts, like beggers, like kings and queens, like sluts and creeps, like upstanding citizens, like doctors and priests, like success, failure, life, death, true love broken and complete. watch your fireworks light up slick black endless pieces of nothing that fall. we are vast and i wanna wake up where you are. break the old kingdom into pieces through my crystal ball. make a new one….

hello….

i feel extra tired this morning. moon’s in aries but i am not feeling the fire. maybe it’s two days of rain in a row. maybe it’s the shadow leaking into the daylight. maybe it’s from the art coming out of me and the delving into my personal hell. maybe maybe maybe. rain all week is predicted. showing up into the present with love, this is the protocol. just keep doing that and just keep going even when the soul wants to slink away and stop doing everything. i need a vacation. about one more month till vegas, thank goddess, i really miss my folks and the desert sun. i feel cheesy this morning too. sentimental. my dreams last night were humbling. i have not much to say after last night’s long free flow beatnik spew. sluggish, yeah, that’s the word, sluggish. slugs. slow moving creatures close to earth. free associating now. time. perception. ferris wheels going round and round. learning the same lesson. goodbye to the old and hello to the new. hello to secure attachment. hello, atlantis. hello, left brain. hello, society. hello, shadow in all of your glory. hello, the way things work. hello, production. hello, assessment. hello, apa style. hello, final paper. hello, institutions. hello, being a father not a mother. hello, north node, hello, mercury retrograde. hello, yoga mat. hello, present moment. hello, is it me you’re looking for? cause i wonder where you are and i wonder what you do? i just wanna say i love you. i just called to say i love you. blah blah blah, hello. sigh. time to end this blog. hello, end. i can’t do it. my fingers keep typing as if on autopilot. as if my fingers are waking up my brain, wake up, this is your life. wake up, time to be in the monday flow. wake me up before you go-go. god, i still can’t believe he is gone. weird how we attach to famous people. and youtube stars too. attachments are real. for real, ending this thing. the mat calls my name…

no period unconscious spew blog…

what to say, what to say, i don’t know, my brain feels like cake batter since yesterday. tired, spacey, low inspiration, not able to think very well, ungrounded in a way but in a way grounded because of my practice….sigh…anyhow…maybe i will write this entire blog without the use of a period, just for the hell of it…to see if i can do it, to spice things up, to make things different, to create a new neural pathway, to show the moment that i can be innovative with it, even when my selfhood feels weary and wishes for inspiration i will still create the inspiration in the moment by not using a period, by breaking a rule that is practical and meaningful and yet arbitrary in the larger picture of truth…truth….what is the truth, why do we want to know the truth, why does he laugh after every attempt to one-up, why is intimacy hard to achieve, why why why….i notice how often i ask why as a means to relieve an itch to understand human behavior and these are the intricacies i get tangled up in because i got nothing much else to care-take outside of myself which is becoming automatic…my self care…beautiful morning ritual on internship days…morning ritual like a work of art almost…waking and drinking the magic mineral potion and eating the nutrition dense, turmeric laden oatmeal, drinking a coffee, writing a blog, saying the prayer/mantra/ and gridding to my spiritual homies, getting on my mat and surrendering to the poses while listening to my three favorite krishna das chants, showering and getting dressed for another day…i am so proud of this ritual in every way because it is streamlined and deep, beautiful and profound, my favorite time of day sometimes and i also like how i do it four times week, honoring the divine masculine number four in me, living the sacred structure…then allowing three days to express the sacred feminine in me and using this body in a different way, in a free flow way, walking, dancing, movement without routine, allowing my heart and mind to unravel and to honor the artist that needs to be spontaneous and free to move about in the emergent moment…feels so good…it’s the little things…i am trying to get away from using the word “good”…like i said, it’s the little things, like replacing the period with ellipses and writing one long run on sentence, like putting vetiver, vanilla, and orange essential oils on my wrist, like swishing coconut oil in my mouth, like doing naked yoga in the dark at seven am in service to the raw and transparent heart, like devoting to my beloved and releasing the kind of romantic entanglements i no longer have interest in….saying thank you to the old experiences and stories, to the false refuges, checking out, dissociating, running, avoiding, hiding, fantasizing, grasping, and dwelling in order to live with a past sculpted into a marble statue, carved by an infinite artist and temporary animal otherwise known as the wise child, knowing how to keep the body alive and the heart protected at the time, even if it meant creating a marble statue impervious to time….seeing myself reflected in him and understanding how life restricts, cutting off life like husbandry, like pruning, like stopping short what needed to grow long…honoring limitation and the blues song…balancing achievement with surrender and being a bad-ass while softening…lessons in every moment and love in every heart i meet, looking into the eye of buddha in pair of eyes, nobody escaping the oneness we are, nothing to compromise, even if i have more privilege to recognize it…i own my privilege so that i may set those who are not as privileged more free by not making them feel they should just get over it…i know how it feels to be the target too and i am learning how to move past the anger and into strategy, practicing the skills of busting out of cocoons and the lessons on repeat….inspiration slowly returns as i type without a period, allowing my unconscious to unfurl like a flower slowly opening, becoming fully blossomed like a star made of flesh, light captured inside of matter, this world is important to me, it’s not just about leaving, transcending, going to heaven, heading into nirvana, leaving the ego…for me it is about balance, honoring the story, honoring the ego, attaching with grace and letting go when it is time to erase…i am a dreamer and not the only one… i want to take photographs and capture this time here, each moment a work of art i treasure…it’s all photographs now and i wonder how long it’s been since i have used my slr camera, maybe years, maybe i bring it to port townsend, a mini road trip, one night to get away, oh how i need it, maybe getting away will bring a new perspective that will help me see what i need to see now….

meaning making machine out of order…

oh life, is bigger, bigger than you and you are not me. song stuck in my head this morning. awoken to npr news and the weight of the world. looking at apartments online, still feeling it is not the right time to move. not sure where i want to be. not sure what is right to do. showing up every day is all i can do. feeling confused. too many choices with nothing to ground me. i dunno. this apartment has been so good to me. a real home, you know? ┬ámaybe i stay till the end of the year? not if they raise the rent, that’s for sure. deep dreaming all night but i cannot recall a thing. nothing to say for blog, this morning. no words in the brain. this is purely an exercise. blank mind. feeling like i am riding on a roulette wheel. round and round the karmic wheel. my meaning making machine is on vacation. do you ever sometimes feel yourself making meaning and seeing how silly it all is? do you ever want to be free of meaning making? the high priestess rises inside of me and asks me to let go. bask in the unknown. miss all the wrong opportunities in order for the right opportunity to easily surface. cancer moon monday. soft. internal. quiet. venus retrograde. considering what i value. i value having a bedroom if possible. not everyone does. watching mr. robot all night. spooked. sunday night blues. woodpecker medicine. american life. human life. i am alive. nothing to say to write. free flow take over so i can be done with this practice. the color blue. thoughts of me and thoughts of you. singing over a camp fire and looking up at the stars. climbing a mountain. traveling to mars. fingertips tapping. holding plank for over a minute. going to the dentist. really, it’s all so boring. inspiration fled again. come back, inspiration! flo from the show alice. staring into screens. emerald tablet. i really cannot think. can heart speak? heart, what say you? i am a quiet turtle this morning. just get on the mat and let me out through the body. ok, through the body it is…