words from the floating world

hello, blank journal entry - where have you been all my life? i'm up later than usual and i urge my consciousness to vomit forth data from its depths else i will surely perish. i challenge the concept of meaning to show me its exact size and vastness. the small and sensual sounds of mouths licking lips and articulating words, the language of sounds in between words the crackling hiss and pop of vinyl, a time capsule containing the full spectrum of human emotion lost to the sands of time

arabesque

i have been drinking. a lot. i guess it's okay to admit that here, to myself, even though i'd rather it not be the case.

v.v

it calls to me - the substance, the feeling, the rapture of it - and i feel its pull. at first i was chuffed that i could detect its peculiar voice and somehow resist, like the good moralistic being i am or wish to be... but after some time has passed it seems as though the strength to resist is falling prey to natural order.

many of us are, after all, divided beings. we recognize the realms within us that war among themselves, sometimes benevolently and at others quite viciously. the desire to be good vs. the desire to ... fall into abyss. each of our inner wars, our exact shades of light and dark, are different. i know my own demons almost by name, and though we are working on being friends i still dislike them greatly when it comes right down to it.

the truth is, i want to be good. i want to reap the benefits of living honorably. to me, living honorably means acknowledging that we are not alone here. our lives are interwoven with an untold number of beings who depend on us like the fifth ripple from the center of the dropped stone in a still pond depends on the fourth for it to exist at all. i for so long did not realize this basic fact. i grew up surrounded by humans, yes, but did my all to forget that they were there. for whatever reason i built a cocoon around myself where nothing else existed - believing, actually believing, that my actions did not have consequences for anyone but myself.

life does this thing where it teaches you lessons. often, they are painful. i'm not sure how else hard-won lessons could be adopted with complete faith unless a former mode of existence is ruptured, making way for a new and better state. i am a raw and new being with each passing moment, each passing battle which is waged then won or lost but ends; they always end. i am always simultaneously victorious and wounded - having discovered a new height of being a new low opens up before me. these paradoxes begin to feel completely natural, the completeness of a complementary life.

lately my practice has been increasing in rewards, and i am pleased, though i acknowledge that work is never completed in regards to the maintenance of the soul - there is always more work to be done. i say "work," but i see it more as maintenance than work. necessary repairs and upkeep - the pleasures of having something so precious as this life that it becomes a sacred duty just to devote the time and energy to keep it running smoothly.

here i am again. at the altar of self, the window before which countless past selves have laid their burdens, rested their weary limbs, and bowed their heads in reverence to the sky. it is an honor to be back here, at this place of having and wanting nothing, desiring all and nothing. i wish to speak of this storm within, as well as all those beautiful blooms and losses.

time goes on. the struggle is still present, but nature herself continues expanding, always outward, without the same assurance that i keep expecting of the universe.

this is a perpetual no-man's land.