Category: Stream of Thought

When I was in survival mode on the mountain, it was hard to feel settled in my space-? skin-? environment-? I can’t quite explain the sensation of always feeling disconnected, under dire pressure, and of always walking “the razor’s edge” – afraid to slip up by any mistake.

I am good at managing time. It’s just the pressure zones that compress me.

I must help him.
It fits my nature.

We’ve made it this far.
Let’s keep progressing.

I hear that it is possible to live one’s life this way, without emergency drama.

What would that be like? How can I set myself firm upon this path?

We are taught as accommodators and devoted caretakers to “stand by our man” in their times of need.

But, if the relationship lacks love’s bond of mutual reciprocation, it is best you leave before you bleed.

There were reasons I stayed with him.

I thought we were onto something.

But, his plans were exclusive.

Once I am allowed to slow, I remain stationary until receive signals on which engines are next ready for firing.

It is disconcerting to let myself feel set adrift when there are so many miles yet to go.

I crave you like a hurricane that can blast away existence, yet seek the calm of eye’s inner knowing.

I can no longer be left without answers.

Reassurance and strategies are needed.

Worry and fret, fret and worry: a mind’s insecurities churn reality into a flurry.

It was not by my will that I became a “junkie.”

It happened by devotion to someone I trusted, who fled down a rabbit hole, uncaring of the gravity well sucking me after.

There’s a type of madness reserved for special case people like me.

We do not belong to any category, and are left raving until we claw our own way out of Hell, back into “sanity.”

I cannot avoid that overcoming this will somehow change me.

I am terrified that I will lose who I have known myself to be.

I admit I doubt it, though it has burrowed into my brain like a chip transmitting – only dosing enough to keep on course, then dwindling if I fall into need’s reminiscence.

I hate you as a pusher and love you as my savior.

“Tough Love” does not define this torture’s thunder.

I must not concern myself with chasing money.

If I am loved and cherished, it will come to me.

If I invest in myself, I will have power to succeed.

All I can do is proceed with what I know as it will yield true results to me, regardless of outcome’s vagaries.

I marvel at other people’s willingness to take leaps, after having expended my own – before they even conceived of possibilities.

It is not necessarily a lack of trust, as I have been accused of, but rather an insecurity about the unknown when advised by a specter.

Having chased my own intuition and finding it thwarted to seeming dead ends which required more courage to overcome when entangled – quite honestly, I am confused and unsure in which direction awaits a true friend.

It cannot be helped that when we are blind, we need others’ help to guide us, yet rarely has anyone taken time to understand my simple complexity so that I might manifest as what amazing result I came here to redeem.

This nor.ally is obtained by paid psychotherapy – and then analyst agendas attempt to divert my natural inclinarions, instead of building my next levels according to my visioning.

Others’ egos and petty depravities have often beleaguered me.

I am not a unit to be manipulated, though my passion could add greatly to the right campaigns

How does one trust a ghost that refuses to be seen or speak plainly of its ultimate intentions?

I worry it will break, stones will come off, or I will lose it now that I wear it daily.

I have an active lifestyle where sometimes my hands bump up against or bash into things.

It is strange to have this one symbolic relic mean so much to my personality

It has bolstered my courage by my wearing it.

Hope of a better life can be a fragile thing.

I have seen them fall by sustained injury, lust’s betrayal, and self-medication.
Why do I weep for them, when they were satisfied with resignation to be ill?

“Be Our Guest” (Disney’s Beauty And The Beast),

“Konoko” (The Beach Boys) &

“Saan-taaaa Lu-ciiiii-aaaaaa” (male well-known voice operatic style)

Keep in mind that although I may add comments of further introspection, these do not confine the meanings which could be derived from my poetry.

I poke fun at myself (to bruised “ouch!”ings) because it is true, you see?

I am a remnant of that which was once true, now bringing forth the ghost of me.

Ah, such tragedy – even Shakespeare would weep while clapping!

Being taught you should become something you were never meant to be.

Once experienced in body, mind, and spirit, it is hard to readjust to society’s merits.

Ostracism was an Athenian democratic procedure in which any citizen could be expelled from the city-state of Athens for ten years. While some instances clearly expressed popular anger at the citizen, ostracism was often used preemptively. Wikipedia

Ack!

I want to finish what I have already fought to have begin!

Yes!

I am “attached to outcome!”

Love is the deeper game, my dear.

I want this – God, how I do!

I can’t explain it except I am still capable and my body and soul yearn and are willing.

But, I hesitate when I look back upon what’s happened to me.

I have almost “lost myself” time and again – and surely have had my own needs shelved while consigned to single parenting.

There must be immense supports available and ready for me sustainably, were I to undertake such a feat again.

Most importantly, I would need my husband’s compassionate understanding.

I have been left out in the cold for years and am “starving.”

To get the best from me, he would need to give his love to me openly.

I can no longer play mind games around fealty if I wish to reclaim full sanity.

Yeah, I am a little unhinged these days – but this makes me also quite funny.

My “super duper achiever” mode has always been nagged by something trying to get its attention.

“There is no room for creative outlet if your goal is to always ‘achieve'” is the message.

Creativity requires its own time and own methods for expression’s exploration in order to reveal its inclinations.

This means, space must be allowed for “time wasted” and “failures” to develop it.

I wrestle with internal dichotomy between my horse brain’s chomping at the bit and bucking to win races, and my inner creative mage frowning at me with arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently as I keep chasing after life’s distractions.

Of course I wrestle with concepts as such.

I have been spit upon and kicked to the curb by people I loved, respected, and trusted.

No matter my own self worth, it labors under the burdens placed by this treatment’s betrayal messaging.

If standards for vetting membership are still old school, I must not worry about belonging to this group.

I have already forged and proven my own categories of high rank, which surpass many of their “normal” accomplishments..

When I turn to leave, I hesitate – and get pulled back into your game.

If it is not “on fire,” it gets ignored (if possible) and put on “the back burner” to “stew.”

I do not have many clothes, but what I do wear I like to have look clean and impeccable.

A favorite jacket I always wear lost its side snap – so now, wherever I go, this sinch strap is just waving in the wind, flapping.

It is very distracting and agitating.

Then, my replacement jacket’s zipper is unhinging at the bottom, followed by the zipper handle to it suddenly disintegrating when I pulled on it.

The power of entropic forces surrounding me and rallying for attention is thwarting!

I got lucky and found an unopened granola bar packet by the stick shift, after searching the car for snack mental reinforcements.

As I pause in a parking lot to look for something in the trunk, the car’s engine shudders and disconnects as its #15 fuse again burns out.

The car no longer ignites fuel as it turns over.

Searching frantically, I find there is one replacement left, so out into the snow I go to put the hood up and dig the burnt fuse out with a nail file.

This is likely unsafe to use, but I have gloves on – and it has worked before, so I stick with this method.

Two minutes later, I am “back in business” with heater full blaring.

The air conditioner unit being turned on for warmth or cooling while parked contributes to the issue.

Knowledge of this does not change my use behavior.

And with our other sick cat’s completed vet trip, the bank account is now empty.

“Thank you…Thank you…!”

(Taking bows before a cheering audience.)

Prescription pain and antispasmodic medications leave lasting effects on my neurology after just one dose.

How the heck do I crack this fuzzy-brained, synaptic overfiring mode?

Waking up to wild forest witch hair and my tooth brush being dropped onto the ground by youngling accident.

Crazy tree nymph, bad breathed alter ego greets me in the bathroom mirror.

I have been considering getting a curtain to cover automatic reflections.

I need sense of “choice” more in my life, after all.

It is irritating that my eyes are still puffy after several days’ ago wearing.

A powerful tool for conveyance, though not meant to be taken, literally.

What am I, but example of time-tested truths, filtered down through countless generations?

It is important that humans be allowed to expand and prosper. We are more than our keepers have made of us.

If evil is a viral contaminant, yet has attached its outcome to yielding needed knowledge, how do we shave off the detriment, while keeping essential coding?

If an outcome would cause harm, rework the equation until find a better solution.

Even if there is deemed “immediate threat,” we must have good alternatives for dealing with “perceived” “transgressions.”

We are not God, and therefore, may be missing pieces of the larger picture.

We cannot “control” anything – but we can position ourselves on better terms to fashion a more amenable destination.

If they will not “open their eyes” to see, they will curse and blame you for everything challenging.

I have learned that materialism and status mean nothing without true love being allowed blessing.

I think we both have “wild magic” talent, and we must each feel safe in surrounding environments in order to sync well with and manifest it functionally.

Beef tamales with sour cream, salsa, and guacamole. Trader Joe’s provides!