(no subject)
Truly, god works in mysterious ways. I'm not talking about YOUR god, or THE god, but MY god, god damn it. The god that likes it when I use his name in vain and doesn't care if I capitalize his fucking name or not. Semantics don't matter to him. He goes by a lot of different names, too, and loves each and every bittersweet one. And he works in mysterious fucking ways. And he is omnipresent, and he loves playing games, that motherfucker, with everyone's heads. Playful and exuberant and showing us the next right thing through the lives of others.
I love it.
I was shown what I have to do next last night through the actions of another person, through the words of another person, through listening, seeing, being present and aware and sober and thoughtful. I am still being dishonest and that dishonesty, that lying to the ones who are here to help me, is what is going to bring me down. Maybe not now, not soon, but eventually. It's going to wear me down until I am so fragile I will break under pressure, so sick and tired and ashamed of my dark habits that I will crumble under my own pressures. I think I am doing so well but I still have these fucking masks on, and I will strip them away and be so much purer for it! Hope and despair are helplessly intermingled. You cannot have one without the other. They are wedded to one another, for the rest of time. It is only in despair that I have heard people speak of having hope. Of walking down streets and of wanting the future. Hope is born of despair. Despair is born of the loss of hope. It is the cycle. We are a cycle. Everything is a perfect circle. We are born in blood and vomit and last night I was born in blood and vomit again. I feel clean. A perfect circle.
My goodbyes were a trifle lame, but I think I was expecting that. No one knows what to say to me. I intimidate them. I don't know how to put into words where I was and where I am. I am a different person. Completly. I feel different. My characteristics are the same but my soul is changed. I am lighter and calmer, more peaceful and present. It has nothing to do with the lengttof my sobriety. It has to do with the realizations of self I have come to. That there is purpose in the world. That you cannot change anything in it. That you are a part of it, forever, to be changed BY it. We are not put on the earth to wreck havoc and mayhem, to do great works and change the face of the universe, but to experience and grow personally. All we have is ourselves and the lives we inhabit. So I shall inhabit mine fully. Know every centimeter and begin to love and nurture it as best I can. To be intrigued by it. Sensation and creation at the touch of a fingerpad. The glance of an iris. Mindfully cognizant of how much power we have to destroy and create and yet allowing the raw energy of the world to ebb and flow around us, putting US into situations rather than forcing ourselves into situations. Making do rather than doing to make. Enjoying every little thing, for god sake, because it is a fucking blast! Reality is a mind fuck, for sure...
"an oh man..." - Lester - American Beauty
I love it.
I was shown what I have to do next last night through the actions of another person, through the words of another person, through listening, seeing, being present and aware and sober and thoughtful. I am still being dishonest and that dishonesty, that lying to the ones who are here to help me, is what is going to bring me down. Maybe not now, not soon, but eventually. It's going to wear me down until I am so fragile I will break under pressure, so sick and tired and ashamed of my dark habits that I will crumble under my own pressures. I think I am doing so well but I still have these fucking masks on, and I will strip them away and be so much purer for it! Hope and despair are helplessly intermingled. You cannot have one without the other. They are wedded to one another, for the rest of time. It is only in despair that I have heard people speak of having hope. Of walking down streets and of wanting the future. Hope is born of despair. Despair is born of the loss of hope. It is the cycle. We are a cycle. Everything is a perfect circle. We are born in blood and vomit and last night I was born in blood and vomit again. I feel clean. A perfect circle.
My goodbyes were a trifle lame, but I think I was expecting that. No one knows what to say to me. I intimidate them. I don't know how to put into words where I was and where I am. I am a different person. Completly. I feel different. My characteristics are the same but my soul is changed. I am lighter and calmer, more peaceful and present. It has nothing to do with the lengttof my sobriety. It has to do with the realizations of self I have come to. That there is purpose in the world. That you cannot change anything in it. That you are a part of it, forever, to be changed BY it. We are not put on the earth to wreck havoc and mayhem, to do great works and change the face of the universe, but to experience and grow personally. All we have is ourselves and the lives we inhabit. So I shall inhabit mine fully. Know every centimeter and begin to love and nurture it as best I can. To be intrigued by it. Sensation and creation at the touch of a fingerpad. The glance of an iris. Mindfully cognizant of how much power we have to destroy and create and yet allowing the raw energy of the world to ebb and flow around us, putting US into situations rather than forcing ourselves into situations. Making do rather than doing to make. Enjoying every little thing, for god sake, because it is a fucking blast! Reality is a mind fuck, for sure...
"an oh man..." - Lester - American Beauty