Monday, December 5, 2016

Virgil is a dick.

Circles.

On his little tour through hell, that old timey poet Virgil guided Mr. Alighieri through nine of them.

Except it couldn't have been real hell, because as we all know, hell is other people.

Except maybe the other people, are the old parts of us, that we swore we'd left behind.

Which I guess, is kind of a circle.

And Dante, and Jean Paul, are far better with words than I'll ever be.

And to hell with words.
Insignificant
Incomplete
Incoherent
And many other in words.

To all nine circles of other me's with you.

And I am haunted by all of my never agains, which is why I never say never, which is a paradox, which is the lesson I have to keep relearning, because my hell is a circle of me ghosts taunting me with my should haves and nevers. 

And here I am again, and Virgil does a face palm, but he doesn't look like a Roman poet. He looks like The Dude from The Big Lebowski, and he's like...

...dude.

And I'm like...

Shut up.

And he's like...

...I thought you said never again.

And I'm like...

I'm taking the scenic circle.

And he's like...

You know how this ends right?

And I'm like...

How could I possibly?

And he's like...

Dude...you're on a goddamn circle.

Of hope
And beauty
And light
And darkness
And all the wrong words
And all the words I can't say
And all the words I won't say
And the pain.

Pain
Pain
Tedious pain.

Which is the toll for breathing.
And I do so enjoy breathing.
So I'll pay the toll.

And he's like...

See you on the come around.

And I'm like...

I really thought I'd leveled up.

And he's like...

I like your hubris kid.  It really ties the hell together.

And I step into the familiar darkness, with open eyes, knowing so well, before I even plant my foot, where my last step will land, but

But

But like the crazy
And the insane
And the stupid
And the ten thousand me's who so foolishly took this journey before me...

Maybe this time.

And he's like...

...dude.

Sunday, December 4, 2016

Just words. Nothing to see here.

Last night I had a dream. It changed everything in that way that dreams don't.  See, I put zero stock in dreams. I don't believe that dreams mean anything. Synapses firing randomly while sleeping, are not portentous of anything important in the real world.

The details of the dream aren't important. They are crystal in my brain, but they are just, simply the story my sleep brain created, in order to make sense of all that biochemical activity. The details are irrelevant.

What is relevant, is the feeling that woke me with rapid breath, and broken heart at three in the morning.  The feeling that kept me awake the rest of the night.  What is relevant, is the unwelcome reminder of things I've worked very hard to make not true about myself.

And as a result I've locked myself away today, with some but minimal contact with the outside world.  I'm not ready for people. I'm not ready for

Vulnerable.

And that's what happened.

The dream itself is...irrelevant.  The players in it, will never know...don't need to know. That's another thing about dreams. In Jungian context, it doesn't matter who was in my dream. My dreams are never, ever about the people in them.

My dreams are about me. Every player in my dream is there for me to figure out how to relate to me.

And I related. I learned. I was made uncomfortable.  In the first person,I don't like this one bit.

In the third person, I couldn't be more thrilled.

You see, in my core, I am a storyteller, and our best stories are the ones that affect us.  And I am affected. So...success.

I'm writing this, because my brain needs to vomit.  I'll post it, because that's what I do, but ultimately this is for me to chime back to in some future, and laugh at me. Laughing at past me, is something I'm incredibly fond of, and present me is in a pretty shitty place in the moment, but to future me, present me is past me, and that guy is fucking hysterical.

But present me is facing a harsh truth, and needs work, and no...I don't want to talk about it.  I'll write about it, and I'll think about it, and I'll figure it out, but...I don't tell people things about me...and my christ I'm not going to start now.

And yes...I will be fine.  I'm not fine right now, but fuck...I've spent a lot of my life not fine,and I'm always fine. So forgive me a few days.  If all you know of me is my digital silliness, then you won't even notice.

If you know me beyond that...give me a couple days...

I'll be back to stupid, boring, silly ole me in no time...

And it'll be like nothing ever happened.

Stupid people with their stupid little feels...

Turns out I'm one of you after all.