stream of consciousness
i'm in a stage of overprocessing--some sort of emotionally and psychologically overstimulated state with little outlet. this relationship shift that is both big and yet was so small (one final conversation, one official decision) has set my axis on a motherfucking tilt it hadn't known before. the world shifted and all of my mind's belongings are now scattered to the left, on the floor. the number of people to discuss this with is limited and insight is what i want. i want to have a philosophical conversation about what this means and why it is with a thousand different people who have lived it in its various forms (and sometimes that want, as want always does, means imposing upon others that i do not have the formal invitation to impose upon--jesus, take 100 steps back, lady).
it's not just about output (although right now i clearly need a place to put all of my complicated thoughts, which is here), but i want a dialogue. what does it mean to want all of this? how do we do this? and while i'm insulting hippies on the regular (sorry, dad, and everyone), it's mostly a joke; i just want something that looks different than what they have and maybe there is a way to do that. are all contemporary untraditional relationships conducted by vegans? everyone i know who is more like myself than i am like these modern times is dissatisfied, cynical, dishonest. (maybe not everyone. my limitations in this conversation and my own generalizations that are Right but Not Quite Right are tripping me up.)
i want to hear stories. how did you deal with this? what did you feel? when was it hard? when was it easy? when did you expect something different (or when did you get what you expected)? i want to know what it means to be in this, in the same way that One True Love stories permeate the collective consciousness i want tales of this kind of multi-faceted affection and sex to be more than the stuff of the fringe. i don't know how to do that without asking the questions: what does this mean for you? tell me your tales.
i don't want a silly book to tell me COMMUNICATION IS KEY and COMPERSION: A WORD YOU SHOULD KNOW and BEING HONEST IS THE THING. i want beautiful writing, i want something complicated, i want something bigger and better. i want personal stories, i want real people that i can connect with deeply to tell me how they love and who and why (and about their heartbreaks within it).
this is not new for everyone and maybe i am too late to this party to ask these questions. the cloth is un-fucking-raveling over here and maybe no one cares (disappointing, but ultimately okay).
realizing that i have been riding the traditional train so hard as a direct result of inexplicable dissatisfaction is mindblowing and mortifying. i'm embarrassed for myself and for how little i must have known to think that this path, the very path that killed my grandmother, was the smart one. i mean clearly there are more factors involved in it than that, but still, how foolish.
i can taste the future (sea salt) but i cannot see it (waves). it is terrifying, in a way, to be somewhere new, and to find this intensity, this joy, this here. this is good.
i don't know what is happening but maybe i'll just sit on my hands and find out.
it's not just about output (although right now i clearly need a place to put all of my complicated thoughts, which is here), but i want a dialogue. what does it mean to want all of this? how do we do this? and while i'm insulting hippies on the regular (sorry, dad, and everyone), it's mostly a joke; i just want something that looks different than what they have and maybe there is a way to do that. are all contemporary untraditional relationships conducted by vegans? everyone i know who is more like myself than i am like these modern times is dissatisfied, cynical, dishonest. (maybe not everyone. my limitations in this conversation and my own generalizations that are Right but Not Quite Right are tripping me up.)
i want to hear stories. how did you deal with this? what did you feel? when was it hard? when was it easy? when did you expect something different (or when did you get what you expected)? i want to know what it means to be in this, in the same way that One True Love stories permeate the collective consciousness i want tales of this kind of multi-faceted affection and sex to be more than the stuff of the fringe. i don't know how to do that without asking the questions: what does this mean for you? tell me your tales.
i don't want a silly book to tell me COMMUNICATION IS KEY and COMPERSION: A WORD YOU SHOULD KNOW and BEING HONEST IS THE THING. i want beautiful writing, i want something complicated, i want something bigger and better. i want personal stories, i want real people that i can connect with deeply to tell me how they love and who and why (and about their heartbreaks within it).
this is not new for everyone and maybe i am too late to this party to ask these questions. the cloth is un-fucking-raveling over here and maybe no one cares (disappointing, but ultimately okay).
realizing that i have been riding the traditional train so hard as a direct result of inexplicable dissatisfaction is mindblowing and mortifying. i'm embarrassed for myself and for how little i must have known to think that this path, the very path that killed my grandmother, was the smart one. i mean clearly there are more factors involved in it than that, but still, how foolish.
i can taste the future (sea salt) but i cannot see it (waves). it is terrifying, in a way, to be somewhere new, and to find this intensity, this joy, this here. this is good.
i don't know what is happening but maybe i'll just sit on my hands and find out.