Stream of Thought

A Year Later

We are here now, and though we may be without a home again, we are further along our path and in a better city.

I pass an already homeless woman carrying and pulling her bags, weary from traveling in the heat under burden of heavy clothing. Her hair is up in a wisping bun and her eyes are laced with bedraggled worry.

The differences between she and I are few and many: superficial – like I have showered recently – but the angst runs parallel and blurry.

Compositions

Growing Pains

I get impatient and caustic with myself – as if I am to blame for what has been done to me. It is vexing to be operating at only partial capacity.

I should be happy and satisfied by how much I have accessed and utilized; of how mindful and attentive I have been in all things; of how much I have created against such odds.

But society – and unfortunately, available “life mates” – have been brainwashed to disregard the greatness of such accomplishments.

And if a prime directive within me is to claim love for fulfilling my destiny, well…the options and opportunities available do not seem favorable.

I am not like any of the other candidates: there’s been a glitch in my system.

I am proud of it at times, but I am still learning to own it – and I must defend, not trade it in for a pipe dream.

Compositions

Delayed Emergence

There is danger in reunifying pieces of a rifted consciousness, for in doing so, each may suddenly download an onslought of past sensate-emotional experiences that the other aspects have no seemless ability to process.

The concept being that a once-unified identity having taken many head-shot blasts is barely clinging to sense of its own defining. If pieces just rejoin willy-nilly, there’s apt to be a lot of pain with uncontrolled screaming.

Compositions

Kicking At The Waves

Soul Mates, Twin Flames, Love Matches – it was all a game for thought’s mainframe to become haywired!

The reality she faced was bachelorette loneliness drinking cool replenishment of thick mango juice straight from the fridge and warmed-up leftover Chipotle remnants.

Responsibilities of ensuring the plants, humans, animals, and stuff all had a place to be during the next bridging transition was not “attractive.”

Guys wanted those plastic, simpering doll faces that changed their appearances every day to keep their inner thighs elastic!

Compositions

Alien-nation

As the so much younger man went on with manic stars in his eyes, he spoke of his dream of feeling inclusiveness at his own wedding, where the men separated from the women, and each gender had their own party after the initial ceremony of life union.

He spoke of family and community rebonding that was shared and magnified at such events: how the brides were dressed beautifully and revered; how there was dancing and so much laughter; how a money tree was lavished upon for the honeymooners to enjoy and have solid financial footing for the start of their journey.

And the more he spoke of his desire to ride sitting high on the top crest of a convertible’s back seating, smiling and waving while the caravan of beeping ceremony attendants wove their ways through shouting, happy responses from downtown anonymous well-wishers, the more her heart became burdened.

Every aspect he mentioned by default was excluding her: she was older, unknown, and a foreigner. She would be seen as a “cradle-robbing interloper” depriving one of their younger daughters of the opportunity. In fact, hadn’t she already been married and had a family?

As the immaturity of his youth’s doubt tore apart her maturity’s valid worth in standing, heavy shame was cast over her heart’s connection with him, cutting her off from the source of love’s joy and prosperity – relegating her to the view of a sallow future frought with others’ biased judgments and consternations.

Compositions

The Exchange

As the little girl lay on her back, terrified and frozen into catatonia, she cast wide and delved deep into her imagination, projecting hard and calling the woman warrior she would someday become to arrive and protect her spirit.

In the realm of the unseen, two phases of mind crossed time’s boundaries and she was given the strength to endure, though the fortification jarred her out of being able to act naturally as a child again.

Through the years and layers of assault as she grew, she’d come back to consciousness of herself after enforced hypnosis and periods of waking coma, feeling as if pieces of her were still missing.

Until one day after she matured beyond half of a century, the older her turned to look backward and opened her arms to welcome the child self who had escaped through that first portal to reunite with her.

Stream of Thought

Out Of Breath

She was not sure she’d make it:
Lately she felt like she was dying.

There are only so many times that
A life can go through same traumas.

It felt like she couldn’t keep up the fight:
She was too bone weary from struggling.

The numbers kept advising her to pray,
But she didn’t really understand how to –

And every poser presenting truth’s ritual
Had been found flawed in their character.

Stream of Thought

The Great Divide

To walk a unique path means that you do not match others nor fit predefinitions.

It can mean you are at risk for not belonging and may even experience repeated homelessness.

It can also bring great rewards because you might be a groundbreaking innovator.

It’s just a matter of time before the pendulum swings your way after long and arduous journeys.

I am ready and waiting for such positive yield that’s been debating.

Stream of Thought

Avoiding Disaster

I take risks in writing here, unsure what other people will think of me.

Doing so provides a sense of comfort in that I am chronicling my growth and striving so that I can see and acknowledge my efforts – yet, it also adds a unique level of anxiety which I must make sure balances to gain by benefits.

I also write here because I never want to again experience a lifetime invested relationship that just gets corrupted and crumbles into nothing.

Entropy was allowed to win over truth and light’s decree: to avoid this, my partner must better know me.

Stream of Thought

Instinctual Memory

Being on campus for receiving physical therapy, it strikes me how close I am to such parallel realities which could see me back in school again, further pursuing dreams.

But, to cross over into these scenes requires that the rewards must be greater than the efforts – as I just cannot afford to misplace my time and energy to any growth that is less than worthy.

Stream of Thought

Recalibrating

There is an ageist belief that at 50 the body just begins breaking down, heading toward decay.

But, I do not think this is what is going on with me: it’s more like battle-weary muscle torsions and chemicals still carried in the system are weighing on me.

If I can figure out how to get a clear path of integral internal smooth functioning again, I believe the rest of a needed purge will just follow.

It takes an understanding of what brought me to this condition, and a willingness to let go of it – to the point of adapting my internal matrices.

Stream of Thought

The State Of Things

I was sharing with a fellow professional how it feels like my life is one of disparity, where I give good to others externally but am sloshing about through the bad, personally.

She told me that she has been hearing this as a common theme recently from many others who give so much to society.

She blamed it on “late stage Capitalism,” but worldwide there is much of this same tyranny where healthcare providers cannot afford nor obtain housing stability.