the truth about dreaming

we never really need to wake up from our night lit hours. i don't think we ever do anyway. i like dreaming my waking hours and waking during my dreaming, it makes everything shine more.

i think living that way instead of the dichotomy of (un)consciousness just means that you're able to walk with decision, rather than losing your feet in the constantly breaking undertow of rest and unrest. better yet, the outlandishness of real life responsibilities can melt into the reality of dreams' unlimited freedom.

it's funny too, the tragedies of wakefulness don't seem to loom tall enough to swallow me into their shadows in my endless dream state. now i'm just floating through the nights of my day and the days of my night, and i'm not waiting to wake up. so for now, i'll keep wake and sleep dreaming and try to not get caught up in that suspicious bout of consciousness i keep hearing about.

(un)chained.

do you know henderson the rain king? he says that circuses really just break elephants feather spirits to make their heavy feet still. from first step they are hindered by ravish chains that claw a log that chokes elephant would-be-steps. then as those baby elephant feet with the would-be-steps grow to make aging would-be-footsteps, a pathetic stick is the only line between those would-be-steps and real-life-steps.

i think that's what we do to our babies too. only their logs are built of responsibilities & careers & expectations. just imagine our would-be-steps as those dreams of wild-proportions (e.g. astronaut, singer/song writer, etc.) to settling for bored realities of realistic-proportions. just break our babies' backs enough and the only stick they'll need to keep their feet still is student loans &  doing something logical & starting a family by the horribly average age of 26 and 1/3. their would-be-hopes get stuck in our babies' chests and they find themselves chained to mortgages & rush-marriages & lives that choke their spirits.

i don't want to be one of those baby elephants with the would-be-steps. i want to burn my log and melt my chains and char the earth with my real-life-hopes. so i suppose just now i poured that gallon of kerosene and dropped that match from a forgotten bar; now to see if i make it out alive. here's to dreams that don't make sense.

heavy

awareness has become the light elluding my eyes, and that which tempts my ever-searching feet. it is the director of balance which my restlessness so desperately screams for, yet today i am baring the yoke loaded with the burden of increased consciousness.

the mind over which i am just now greeting and challenging is rooted deep below the earth of my innermost being, and its reign of terror is the evil i've spent my years trying to expel from my soul. though awareness of its ravenous bite means the potential to finally vanquish the beast, today my tired shoulders sag deeply for carrying its weight these nearly 23 years; it's an exhaustion and devastation of which i've never before explored.

to fully begin divulging the wretched dirt that has for so long marred and concealed the light of my self i adore at distant glimpeses is a task wrought most heartedly of joy, yet salted by anguish raw and unfamiliar. however, my first mind is sure to prevail, though the way may be long and the journey at times steep. but blessed be this new trip of discovery, as its stores of promise mean freedom and light.

cracking my skull

in the steps that my beaten feet have taken, I'm beginning to see increasing levels of balance.

first and foremost, the boiling down of the dream i've created for myself as toxic levels of fear and swelling layers of love. despite my preoccupation of the painful interconnectedness of the fear-love spectrum with Donnie Darko's arch enemies, i've seen the harsh rule my apprehensions have stricken the best of me with throughout my years.

it's so strange that in doing what i found to be so essential in previous eras in conducting self-search, that these very endeavors are the ones that have sealed the sky and constructed forsaken fortresses inhibiting my growth and experience. instead, by silencing what i've claimed are the thousands of bits of characteristics that collectively give rise to my current, past and present selves, i may truly discover my potential and gifts. my restlessness to find my limits creates such obstacles, when what i would best be off doing is flipping my whirling brain into a non-functioning-for-the-moment stage in hopes of greeting my liberated intuition. here, the beauty i''ve always so desired to unearth can be encountered, rather than founded by force and flame.

in essence, love and peace is meant to be felt and enjoyed, rather than what i generally sought as some distant end goal off at the completion of an unknown path on which i must hope to stumble.it's here, it's now, just so long as i have the strength to reach out and be taken hold by it.

rhythms

my life revolves around finding a beat that can pound me forward or hum me into peace.

my thoughts revolve around whether or not the rhythms i create are beats toward light, not a pulse that's making me numb.

and here i stand, 1 one-way flight and an outrageous adventure away from slaying all previous tempo & time from previous/current phases of life, about to create new rhythms and begin grooving to a new life, new perspective, new world.

i'm surprised by how restless i'm growing of my most recently released nannying/grocery shopping/grad school-applying beats. i'm surprised by how quickly i'm beginning to anticipate the unfamiliar, enticing beats of the world to the south. i'm excited to rock to the rhythms of harvesting/sowing/spanish-speaking, renewing the beats that i've grown with and remixing them to be fresh and life giving.

it'll be nice to stop worrying about the fruitfulness of familiar rhythms - now the only thing to do is start coming up with new ones.