Looking back at my own posts, not finding what I wanted.
Surprised at what I did find
The posts, huddled in time around gaping empty spaces
craters. Trying to grow again before the next carves out its due.
Posts drafted in my head that I don't see - flags of thought I wish I'd thrown in time.
I see comments I wish I'd known about, responded to
Perhaps from others trying to walk across this same slippery stream
the stepping stones are many, but the water deep.
The breaths come few and far between.
Though I hope that others understand,
I know that really, I address myself in saying:
Please forgive the silence
it's not that I've been drowning
but all the work at breathing
makes it awful hard to speak.
I know the taste of air
I know when I'm awake
The struggle is for the next breath of consciousness
every time I slip and plunge
as I make my way across this river dream
I am ashamed at the ways I betray my own progress
but the way ahead is still forward
My previous steps, though unsteady, inconsistent, drive me from the past to start again
and on I go
Looking back at my own posts, not finding what I wanted.
Posted by Churaesie at 07:20
the commas, pause for breath, 'midst poetry
fresh dewdrops awakening, perched atop the grass
light rain of tears rebounding up unheard from dust and puddles
the scratch of drumming surfaces that beat a rhythm
flightpath of birds on their way to the throne room
hoofprints of Pitzeem's mare
the dirt in the field flying out behind Badger's hind claws
the wink of gleaming stardust settling behind rocky peaks in a yellowing dawn
Posted by Churaesie at 05:22
Do you see good things in the world? Since everything is a mirror, the goodness you see around you is a reflection of yourself. Find your inner lightbulb, and twist it to aim the light back on yourself until you also feel the warmth.
Posted by Churaesie at 19:23
It occurs to me in words that one of the most important abilities of a victim is first, to know when one is being victimized and when one isn't; and second, to know the source of the threat.
If one is being victimized without knowing, this descends into an awful twilight swamp of partial humanity. If one is not being victimized, but feels otherwise, this brings that nightmare into waking life.
If one can identify the source of the threat, then one knows whether or not the swamp comes from oneself. Try to find that door and shut it. Anticipated, unverified threats from others have no place in one's internal world.
Since the reality is that all humans should be able to expect to be treated with dignity and respect, to live knowing otherwise is a kind of nightmare. Even if conscious, it is a world that isn't real.
This ... Dream.
Posted by Churaesie at 19:22
most of them are really interesting,
and are actually not trying to impose on me, get something from me, or judge/criticize/shame me.
It's morning and the sun is shining
when did I start dreaming?
Posted by Churaesie at 17:47
not willing to release
the fix'd foot
that is the same as every other space
The ocean swell which keeps its face upturned
until the strength
The same day as lights the other side of Earth
is painted gently on our own night sky
Posted by Churaesie at 07:53
or if it's the dry sun I feel the heat of through your words. The dust, the carts,
donkeys on strong, tiny ankles
the hot dust quenched by thick and cool and maybe sour orange mango juice -
the light gleaming off of Leonardo's guitar
and to tell me
flitting above desert streams
that it's ok
if you do come,
I'll find mint for tea
Posted by Churaesie at 07:40
between day and
delayed desire for morning?
the farthest from my eyes
my tired mind and I
gaze into darkened pooling of the
therin we glimpse reflection
of the day
and paint with ink.
an ink that comes from between the stars
above the lands where day is clearest
The lunar glow is not from one radiant source
there is no glare in her light
on loan from ashes
from one source
funds us only after first touching others
And in the gathered-cloak night sky
I see the kaleidoscopic gleam
still painted with the broad-brush silver river of their time snaked 'cross the sky
of a billion distant
unblinded by her own
reflects it all
a luminescent cool silk sheet
Posted by Churaesie at 07:16
There was a time - a short period of time - in which I felt I had my life together.
I'd made a place for everything, and everything in it's place.
it was all unexpectedly scrambled.
Like I was thrown to the ground had my brain scattered across the floor like a raw egg or ground beef.
I've been trying for more than 8 years to get it back together. That's almost a decade. Almost a decade of trying and failing to put the pieces back together enough to feel like 'myself'.
Those eight years each passed with a quiet unfulfilled hope that maybe sometime soon - with enough discipline, enough thinking, enough trying, enough rest, enough effort - I could figure out how to get it all together again. Certainly there are many other ways I've made improvements, many other accomplishments, many other things lost and regained… but it's been 8 years of feeling like I should come with a disclaimer "I am not at my best." "I've been better, I promise." But, I've never been able to prove the latter by replicating it. Not sustainably.
Even when I look back on the time when had it all together, I didn't /really/ have it all together, but I didn't feel like I needed that disclaimer.
I feel like something came unraveled and I'm endlessly trying to 'ravel' it again… it's like I've never really been able to find the end. Maybe I should take a hint from the fact that there's no English word 'raveling' for something that has 'un'raveled.
I think it's time I embrace the fact that I will never really be ok.
Turn that disclaimer into a product description.
If I've been trying for 8 years without figuring out how to feel like the 'myself' I thought I once did, then I'm probably not going to make it.
Not ok. not together. scattered. is the new self.
Those cracks are probably not going to go away anytime soon. I might as well start setting my personal dinner table for myself and for each of them as well.
And, we'll try to say goodbye to the self I've been trying and failing to be. If she becomes me in the future, it won't be by my intention.
In the morning, I'll wake up as me. Same as every other day. But this time, I'll embrace the fact that I am who I am now, cracks and all.
And, that I don't have it together.
I suspect if there is any way through this hall of broken mirrors to another side,
it might start with embracing the image I have to work with right now. But, I'm not going to think about that - that thought would just get in the way.)
(and by the way,… don't worry. I am ok. I am physically, mentally, and psychologically well-off and stable. Compared to most of the world, I am relatively excellent. But, that doesn't stop me from wanting to be ideally me...)
Posted by Churaesie at 10:22