no words

A feeling of no words, and while everything seems to be going well, I find myself losing my balance in some way. What could it be, when nothing is more important than another thing? Even the writing is sort of paced at incremental gains. 

Think of the game monopoly, the more players, the longer each turn lasts and the game quickly gets boring. No one advances, but once in a while someone gets lucky and another unlucky. 

I don’t know how to feel because I have so many books to read, so many songs to listen to, so many articles I’ve fallen behind on, so many emails waiting to be read, so many text messages and calls for attention, and I feel so lost. 

I haven’t wanted to work out in a couple of weeks. This always happens when I travel, when my routine gets shaken up, and I feel like I’m unable to make a good decision. Can I be trusted to make one good decision? 

The world is moving too fast, and yet it’s moving too slow. I can’t possibly connect with everyone. I need a system that works. 

The mental breakdowns in relationships. Pleas and cries for help, welp, I hope I could figure it out. Back then when I said I wasn’t ready, I’d considered the facts. But this time, I know it’s her, like she’s the one, but the doubts are my own. Am I some one she can rely on? This night will seem longer than other nights, but I should at least make my bed, and put my clothes away. How is it that you return from a trip and you don’t even unpack. 

It’s always like this one thing. If I drink more water, and disconnect for a few hours from the pc, the switch, just sit down and read. The panacea for my woes. But it ain’t so simple. No… no it isn’t. It will take some work. 

am i disintegrating

i can hardly feel in touch with myself anymore, as it feels that what was once a thing is dissolving into many things. And it’s happening all at once like little marbles dropping from a sack and bouncing in all directions and heights. I can barely stand to be alone for longer than 5 minutes.

I cannot say that it is fair to put it on you to listen. You are fighting your own battles, and we journey together always at the risk of becoming too co-dependent. Why? I seek the love of the one who nurtures me, but never the love of my self. Does the sun also seek the warmth of other stars? Or does it feel entirely alone in it’s vast expanse? 

I wonder, and then I cry. Because some truths turn out to be gargantuan, large enough that they’re inpronouncible, hard to pronounce. But I don’t denounce the fears, I am just aware of the dangers of choosing to go there by your own will. Because some people can be thrill-seekers like that, and to go to the cave of pain is something of a craving. But I can’t take more right now. I need a good night of sleep, a moment of respite, a feeling and reassurance that everything is going to be alright. Even while I disintegrate. 

For some reason this outcome has felt inevitable. The universe only knows entropy, and all life will cease at some point. Which begs the question, what’s the point anyway? Why suffer for a suffering that will soon end? Why feel the pain that will flee away later anyway? But we’re not as logical as we think. Even me, all I do is think and ask questions. I’m hardly qualified to meditate on life’s deeper truths, or to sit in a room quietly by myself. When I encounter pain, I like to walk slower, but also on the other side of the street. 

Why not run away from it as fast as you can? Or why not charge towards it and eliminate it on sight? That’s what I mean. Some people are thrill-seekers. I, on the other other hand, find it hard to run away because if it spots me it will catch me faster and come with vindication. And should I confront this monster, who knows what the outcome will be? Probably just more pain and suffering. Interminable doubt. 

Today, I am writing, and tomorrow morning I will be swimming. That’s the only hope I have left. 

cow and chicken

a happy memory

So this one time, I was heading back to where we kept the cows and really all of the pasture. We had a small chicken coop and a rabbit coop as well, but this was a little further back towards the coconut and the one avocado tree. That’s where the cows grazed, and we knew there was a pregnant cow. So Freddy, our groundskeeper, walked back to check on the pregnant cow with calf, and I followed him because I wanted to see it too.

As we’re approaching the cow, I noticed it bleeding out from underneath. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but you could see it drip and the cow was mooing like … a mother would? It was a strange noise, yes, but no more than 5 minutes later a boy-ish calf emerges. It must have been about 60-70 lbs at birth. Cows get huge, which you don’t really think so unless you’ve seen them in their non-burger form. And its infancy the young calf grew so attached to me.

So that’s what I remember, and it would follow me around like I had birthed it. But that’s something we don’t really experience, because we’re carried around and mostly sleepy when we’re born. But a newborn calf actually walks around and interacts with an entirely new world. So it probably couldn’t tell a human from a cow, all it saw was kindness and maybe kindness is a language in itself. 

I wonder now if that young calf is now a grown cow or if it has met its end. Farm animals get attached like you wouldn’t believe, and I might like to raise a few at some point in my life. My mother is a lover of animals, and I think that she passed that down to me. So I’ll smile because I could recall a fond memory, and I need to remember the past better so that I can celebrate this life I enjoy.

the moon at night

When does it all end? The stories that we tell about ourselves are probably the single most important indicators of what our lives actually turn out to be, and yet knowing this is not enough. 

The savvy are the ones who know, the wise are the ones who apply. So they say… but day after day, I struggle to apply what it is I think I know and I find myself in a mess of a life, trying to make sense of that which makes no sense at all. It’s emotional, sure… but what exactly does anyone owe me to have to listen, and suffer as I “figure things out.” 

And I’ll make mistakes… because I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve always played chess in the most unconventional way, opting not for strategy but for tactics. This is too many times the downfall of the conventional anti-hero. The difference between Walter White and Gus Fring. One reacts, like a proper chemist, an alchemist… the other is very calculated and methodical. I can be both, but more often I am just acting out of good intention. And how wrong I tend to be.

But the score is only tallied once the game is over, and as long as I breathe, think, am stupid and dumb, the game is stiill going on. Fear, as an opponent, has proved formidable. The fear of shame, of missing out on things, of misfitting in every scenario. That usually doesn’t come alone. It comes with procrastination, a lack of purpose that can paralyze you from the brain stem. So that I sit, but don’t think, and I find every little thing in order to distract myself. 

Where are the people that said they’d check on me when I was down? I always imagined that sooner or later, like stars in the galaxy, they would drift away. We are the big bang, from a tiny explosion, we emerge. And some planets find their moon to orbit them, but some don’t – or they pull so violently that they absorb them and then the sky at night is just darkness. Life can’t exist without the sun… but could you imagine a life with no moon to look up to?

“Are you okay?” The moon asks. Because it sees you sad and alone.