I want to loose myself in there. I want to lay down on the snow and look at the sky. So blue. So masterfully deep. So pompously layered. Thank you for the refreshing vision. Thank you for your kind wishes.
I hope you have a fantastic Holiday Season and that you start 2010 with joy. I hope the year embarks you on adventures and changes. I hope your lives remain young and willing and open and fresh and blue and pompously layered. I wish you positive surprises. I wish you the best always. Above all else I hope you always live having the sense of depth when living your life.
Take care of yourself. Have a lovely time near your loved ones. Let´s allow 2010 bring all the challenges in the world and face them with courage and a smile in the heart. I cheer for an amazing decade ahead.
12/24/2009
12/18/2009
Don't Stop Retreating!
Plans that have potential to impact one's life course can be truncated by miniature events and minute exogenous phenomena. Those plans, when properly planned, can have incredible magnitude. We think of them. We quietly, in our minds, start building them. And, we set out a road to acomplish them and make them a reality. Life has continued taking its course. And suddenly, the surprise. The unmanageable certainty of execution is not there. Miniature catastrophes, small victories, acquaintances, all can start intruding. And then life resolves itself. And we loose sight of those plans.
In my experience, those plans tended to be simple. They did not entail building space-ships or travelling to far distant lands. Those plans tended, most often, to be about finding spaces for the soul, the mind, and the spirit to sync. To come together as one and to start thinking in present about life's future course, with the past in perspective. There can be debate about the validity of the surprise factor of like taking course once the idea of loosing sight of "the plans" when the action of "planmaking" becomes a concious activity in ourselves. Because we know and are aware that we want to head somewhere. Because we are already planning something that feels structured and most often follows a methodology. But, life can happen so quietly and events can seem to follow one another so smoothly that it is really impossible to know what is getting in the way and what is not. And, if something is getting in the way, it is even harder to put at rest the idea of dealing with it as a sepparate event that should not intrude with what was prior set out.
Plans of the mind and of the heart are, I assume, set out by all. But the degree of conciousness of those seem to follow different patterns. There are those amongst us who flow. Who just let life happen and do not give much consideration to existencial questions. Ultimately, we all do think about life and about strategizing it or simply thinking and setting priorities for existence. But, there are those of us who attempt, to the best of our abilities to go a bit deeper on the concious level. Who look at a New Year as a possiblity. Who look at a birthday as somewhat of a crossroads. Each time. Every calendar turning its page. We can dwelve in silence, in writings, in images, in conversations with ourselves just thinking deep and hard about what it is that we want? How it is that we really want to live? When it is that we want to do things? It feels as though the weight of this sort of analysis is part of us. And, often, even when attempted at, it is hard to escape.
So, we sit, walk, run, swim, write, draw. And in midst of these activities we retreat into ourselves. We flock into all directions of the heart and start thinking of the patterns of behaviour, the things that make up who we are. Where we work. Who we relate to others. How we chew. Who do we want to give ourselves to. Under what conditions. And quickly these ideas start taking up structures and all start playing with one another as we start figuring out what needs to be changed, advanced, matured, and potentially dilluted. When we retreat to search into ourselves and not to change others, we normally retreat to find the positive. Seeking a platform. Seeking a propeller. Seeking a way to extract more out of life. Yet remain pure. Yet remain constructive. Yet remain true to one's essence. I f we could only try more.
Those plans are frail and fragile. One is the only one who sets them out and one is the only one who can pursue them. One sets the course. One chooses the methodology. One really knows the weight of the priorities. Even if one's life is shared, it is in one is where the power of staying course remains. Everything else is exogenous. Everyone else is external. Our plans may be understood. They may be identified. They can be judged as essential. They can be improved with external advice. They can be blocked. Whatever the condition, it remains property, truly and wholy private of one's life entreprise. No one else's.
And so we build the course. And we start walking. Not conscious all day about that which we want to acomplish. Simply coming about to one of these plans is hard enough. I guess it happens few times in one's life. Often in youth. For the enlightened ones it may happen later as they remain open to change and opportunity. Regardless of age and recurrence, building these plans requires backbone. It is not easy to retreat into oneself. It is no handy task to pause and really look around and see life face value, from our subjective perspective, or even to look at it from the possible angles of analysis there may be. Just pausing is hard enough. Finding the time to think. Finding the courage to give this sort of matter any kind of importance. But, then again, we do. And we struggle until the time comes. And we can see. See as far as we can. Hopefully hurt one a little. And then reply with some ridiculous sense of patriotism for the history built by the country that contains our bodies and souls. And respond, and debate, and disagree and finally arrive to some sort of self-enlightened and self-designed version of the truth. Knowing the hindrance or lie to and of being objetive (because at the end of the day there is nothing that can be objective about anyone, there is no one single truth) we deliver the personal manifesto and of we go!
Of we go until something stops us. Of we go until an event distracts us and perhaps forces us to loose sight of that truth that for moments seem so relevant and important and even essential for life to continue. We get distracted. In my case, by default. And the plans start shaping up over the course of years. I start recirculating versions of that self-designed truth and then suddenly start seeing it melt by pieces and by beats. Every time the door bell rings when I am collecting thoughts about professional strategy. Every single time the internet falls when I am writing an email to someone I am courting and does not come back up after I left the house for any other activity. Every single time that I cannot retreat because the level of activity I aspire or perform is vaster than the actual amount of time that a good session of self analysis would require. These are miniature catastrophes. These are unexplainable phenomena that just as it was hard to come by the time to build up plans, it later became as hard to put them on course.
We like to get distracted. When we retreat, the easiest thing is to diver by these phone calls, by the calling wars of success at the office, by the ever growing interests of the mind. Books. Exhibits. Shows. Sex. Line ups of activities with amazing abality to devastate the silence or space that requires the thinking of those "grand" "planning" "strategies". And life diverts.
Yet, to be fair, those distractions are structural in most cases. Life happens in wealth and poverty. Each can be a structural difficulty to finding silence. Life happens in health and sickness. Each can be another structural obstacle to finding balance for the mind and heart. In sickness, we want to resolve all things. In health, we pay little attention to existencial matters. In any event, assuming one is standing in the ideal place for one of these planning sessions and really is ready to walk into and around oneself, our lives do not take place in isolation. They take place around others. They exist in unison and in a chronologically assigned manner. They are finite. They begin. They end. And everything around us begins and ends during our own course.
It is the coming to an end of one such life while attempting to retreat into myself that moves me to think about this and write it. I was drafting lists about life and setting out the vision ahead, thinking of the retrospective way back, when this lack of oxygen, one again, started cramming into someone's life. Moments later, you sit and stare how life and air escape a person. The love you feel. The passion you have for the shared existence with that life. All of the moments and silences that were shared. The wisdom and magic that descended on your heart along the way. That fairy woman who always protects you. Suddenly, frail, eyes closed, hand clinging to the metal border of the bed. Tubed up. Tubed around. And barely catching a breathe. You simply do not want to think about the potential of lossing all of this. Of loosing a soul companion. A soul that should be here, everlasting, ever present. But, then, the miniature disasters do happen.
Lives truncated by a single turn of events. By bad medication prescribed that dents brutal holes in human organs. By the fact that we exist together and some cannot operate when others are not around. Because we do depend on each other by heart or physics. To build those plans. To frustrate them. To build new ones. To improve others. We simply cannot create those plans in isolation.
I realize, it is insolent to call such an event like a life obstruction and life threatening oxygen deficiencies an interruption. Well, actually, it is frivolous analysis at first sight. But it is necessary. Of course, it is extreme but it is precisely important to look at it because it highlights important issues that once understood can help build brighter, grander courses for all of us.
Now, the interruption being discussed stops being about those around this soul. It is, mainly, now I realize, about her soul. This interruption must have taken place when she had set out dreams in her own mind. How will I prepare for Christmas? What will I do with my family? Will I be able to carry out the dinner and hear to what they are saying? Perhaps I should light candles and offer San Patricio something so my life continues smoothly? Will I make it to tomorrow? How can I remove this pain in my left knee? Why does my body ache so much? I should be using the oxygen, but I think is dangerous, will they realize I am not using it? The weight of trains of thought like these repeat on each of us on a daily basis. Do we stop planning life and retreating into ourselves at the age of 80? Do we look back more than look ahead? I doubt it. The ability and need of thinking about life and how we want to live it is persistent and age makes it the more acute.
When plans take course a million obstacles seem to interfere. One builds a plan. Life continues taking its course. The resolute is there. Life truncates it. It seems obliviously difficult to retain course but we do not even realize. We soon confront other problems. Our own. Other's. We get distracted and unknowingly abandon missions that are worth living. Missions that are worth experimenting. Perhaps that is one main resolute for the time ahead. To look deeper into examples of these events and really dig until we uncover a way to let life happen but simply turn and realize a distraction for what it is and come back to where we were.
Perhaps then the disilussion ends. Then love becomes true. Lives stop being mediocre. And we really find content in realizing that focus, concentration, and attempts to live can follow our intentions if we set out on it. We can stop being somber shadows of ourselves.
Retreat.
In my experience, those plans tended to be simple. They did not entail building space-ships or travelling to far distant lands. Those plans tended, most often, to be about finding spaces for the soul, the mind, and the spirit to sync. To come together as one and to start thinking in present about life's future course, with the past in perspective. There can be debate about the validity of the surprise factor of like taking course once the idea of loosing sight of "the plans" when the action of "planmaking" becomes a concious activity in ourselves. Because we know and are aware that we want to head somewhere. Because we are already planning something that feels structured and most often follows a methodology. But, life can happen so quietly and events can seem to follow one another so smoothly that it is really impossible to know what is getting in the way and what is not. And, if something is getting in the way, it is even harder to put at rest the idea of dealing with it as a sepparate event that should not intrude with what was prior set out.
Plans of the mind and of the heart are, I assume, set out by all. But the degree of conciousness of those seem to follow different patterns. There are those amongst us who flow. Who just let life happen and do not give much consideration to existencial questions. Ultimately, we all do think about life and about strategizing it or simply thinking and setting priorities for existence. But, there are those of us who attempt, to the best of our abilities to go a bit deeper on the concious level. Who look at a New Year as a possiblity. Who look at a birthday as somewhat of a crossroads. Each time. Every calendar turning its page. We can dwelve in silence, in writings, in images, in conversations with ourselves just thinking deep and hard about what it is that we want? How it is that we really want to live? When it is that we want to do things? It feels as though the weight of this sort of analysis is part of us. And, often, even when attempted at, it is hard to escape.
So, we sit, walk, run, swim, write, draw. And in midst of these activities we retreat into ourselves. We flock into all directions of the heart and start thinking of the patterns of behaviour, the things that make up who we are. Where we work. Who we relate to others. How we chew. Who do we want to give ourselves to. Under what conditions. And quickly these ideas start taking up structures and all start playing with one another as we start figuring out what needs to be changed, advanced, matured, and potentially dilluted. When we retreat to search into ourselves and not to change others, we normally retreat to find the positive. Seeking a platform. Seeking a propeller. Seeking a way to extract more out of life. Yet remain pure. Yet remain constructive. Yet remain true to one's essence. I f we could only try more.
Those plans are frail and fragile. One is the only one who sets them out and one is the only one who can pursue them. One sets the course. One chooses the methodology. One really knows the weight of the priorities. Even if one's life is shared, it is in one is where the power of staying course remains. Everything else is exogenous. Everyone else is external. Our plans may be understood. They may be identified. They can be judged as essential. They can be improved with external advice. They can be blocked. Whatever the condition, it remains property, truly and wholy private of one's life entreprise. No one else's.
And so we build the course. And we start walking. Not conscious all day about that which we want to acomplish. Simply coming about to one of these plans is hard enough. I guess it happens few times in one's life. Often in youth. For the enlightened ones it may happen later as they remain open to change and opportunity. Regardless of age and recurrence, building these plans requires backbone. It is not easy to retreat into oneself. It is no handy task to pause and really look around and see life face value, from our subjective perspective, or even to look at it from the possible angles of analysis there may be. Just pausing is hard enough. Finding the time to think. Finding the courage to give this sort of matter any kind of importance. But, then again, we do. And we struggle until the time comes. And we can see. See as far as we can. Hopefully hurt one a little. And then reply with some ridiculous sense of patriotism for the history built by the country that contains our bodies and souls. And respond, and debate, and disagree and finally arrive to some sort of self-enlightened and self-designed version of the truth. Knowing the hindrance or lie to and of being objetive (because at the end of the day there is nothing that can be objective about anyone, there is no one single truth) we deliver the personal manifesto and of we go!
Of we go until something stops us. Of we go until an event distracts us and perhaps forces us to loose sight of that truth that for moments seem so relevant and important and even essential for life to continue. We get distracted. In my case, by default. And the plans start shaping up over the course of years. I start recirculating versions of that self-designed truth and then suddenly start seeing it melt by pieces and by beats. Every time the door bell rings when I am collecting thoughts about professional strategy. Every single time the internet falls when I am writing an email to someone I am courting and does not come back up after I left the house for any other activity. Every single time that I cannot retreat because the level of activity I aspire or perform is vaster than the actual amount of time that a good session of self analysis would require. These are miniature catastrophes. These are unexplainable phenomena that just as it was hard to come by the time to build up plans, it later became as hard to put them on course.
We like to get distracted. When we retreat, the easiest thing is to diver by these phone calls, by the calling wars of success at the office, by the ever growing interests of the mind. Books. Exhibits. Shows. Sex. Line ups of activities with amazing abality to devastate the silence or space that requires the thinking of those "grand" "planning" "strategies". And life diverts.
Yet, to be fair, those distractions are structural in most cases. Life happens in wealth and poverty. Each can be a structural difficulty to finding silence. Life happens in health and sickness. Each can be another structural obstacle to finding balance for the mind and heart. In sickness, we want to resolve all things. In health, we pay little attention to existencial matters. In any event, assuming one is standing in the ideal place for one of these planning sessions and really is ready to walk into and around oneself, our lives do not take place in isolation. They take place around others. They exist in unison and in a chronologically assigned manner. They are finite. They begin. They end. And everything around us begins and ends during our own course.
It is the coming to an end of one such life while attempting to retreat into myself that moves me to think about this and write it. I was drafting lists about life and setting out the vision ahead, thinking of the retrospective way back, when this lack of oxygen, one again, started cramming into someone's life. Moments later, you sit and stare how life and air escape a person. The love you feel. The passion you have for the shared existence with that life. All of the moments and silences that were shared. The wisdom and magic that descended on your heart along the way. That fairy woman who always protects you. Suddenly, frail, eyes closed, hand clinging to the metal border of the bed. Tubed up. Tubed around. And barely catching a breathe. You simply do not want to think about the potential of lossing all of this. Of loosing a soul companion. A soul that should be here, everlasting, ever present. But, then, the miniature disasters do happen.
Lives truncated by a single turn of events. By bad medication prescribed that dents brutal holes in human organs. By the fact that we exist together and some cannot operate when others are not around. Because we do depend on each other by heart or physics. To build those plans. To frustrate them. To build new ones. To improve others. We simply cannot create those plans in isolation.
I realize, it is insolent to call such an event like a life obstruction and life threatening oxygen deficiencies an interruption. Well, actually, it is frivolous analysis at first sight. But it is necessary. Of course, it is extreme but it is precisely important to look at it because it highlights important issues that once understood can help build brighter, grander courses for all of us.
Now, the interruption being discussed stops being about those around this soul. It is, mainly, now I realize, about her soul. This interruption must have taken place when she had set out dreams in her own mind. How will I prepare for Christmas? What will I do with my family? Will I be able to carry out the dinner and hear to what they are saying? Perhaps I should light candles and offer San Patricio something so my life continues smoothly? Will I make it to tomorrow? How can I remove this pain in my left knee? Why does my body ache so much? I should be using the oxygen, but I think is dangerous, will they realize I am not using it? The weight of trains of thought like these repeat on each of us on a daily basis. Do we stop planning life and retreating into ourselves at the age of 80? Do we look back more than look ahead? I doubt it. The ability and need of thinking about life and how we want to live it is persistent and age makes it the more acute.
When plans take course a million obstacles seem to interfere. One builds a plan. Life continues taking its course. The resolute is there. Life truncates it. It seems obliviously difficult to retain course but we do not even realize. We soon confront other problems. Our own. Other's. We get distracted and unknowingly abandon missions that are worth living. Missions that are worth experimenting. Perhaps that is one main resolute for the time ahead. To look deeper into examples of these events and really dig until we uncover a way to let life happen but simply turn and realize a distraction for what it is and come back to where we were.
Perhaps then the disilussion ends. Then love becomes true. Lives stop being mediocre. And we really find content in realizing that focus, concentration, and attempts to live can follow our intentions if we set out on it. We can stop being somber shadows of ourselves.
Retreat.
12/17/2009
Llueve la Ciudad
Nueva York
10/07/2006
Caen del cielo toneladas métricas de concreto,
Caen directamente, perpendiculares, apuntadas a mi cara.
Y acá, en mi nariz, quedan rastros de pavimento,
Quedan alcantarillas en mis oídos.
Y, es que la ciudad entera ha llovido en mí frente.
El impacto, la fricción, dejando el borde de mí piel,
Al tacto caliente.
Me escondería si tuviera miedo,
Huirían si pesaran las toneladas métricas.
Tal vez, hasta gritaría,
Si la sangre no supiera tan bien cuando se mezcla con ripio de cemento.
Es un día más, simpatizante en el calendario.
No es un día más! No!
Porque hoy me ha llovido en la cara cemento.
10/07/2006
Caen del cielo toneladas métricas de concreto,
Caen directamente, perpendiculares, apuntadas a mi cara.
Y acá, en mi nariz, quedan rastros de pavimento,
Quedan alcantarillas en mis oídos.
Y, es que la ciudad entera ha llovido en mí frente.
El impacto, la fricción, dejando el borde de mí piel,
Al tacto caliente.
Me escondería si tuviera miedo,
Huirían si pesaran las toneladas métricas.
Tal vez, hasta gritaría,
Si la sangre no supiera tan bien cuando se mezcla con ripio de cemento.
Es un día más, simpatizante en el calendario.
No es un día más! No!
Porque hoy me ha llovido en la cara cemento.
12/16/2009
Rock On!
I am so glad to see how all is shaping up for you. The minutes continue to be jammed packed with activity. The friends are flocking all to you and each has a more interesting story to tell than the other. The places you are visiting are each special in its own way and they most certainly leave lasting impressions and cravings to live and to belong there. I hope life continues giving you all these chances and opportunities. I feel like you are open to live them fully and thus deserve more than anyone to experience these the changing sceneries.
Your time in Miami sounds outstanding. It is definitely a special place. In my experience, Miami becomes truly amazing when you are surrounded by the right people. The relaxed kind. The ones who can jet set and yet chill at reaggae ska bars at night. The ones who like walking the beach and merging with the bodies and the sun. Sounds like you were with someone really special. That is really cool. The ocean, the streets filled with cross sections of flavours and sounds. The decadence of it all mixing with the glamour. I assume the Art did a lot for the city and it must have made the city feel like a really fantastic place. I am glad.
I am well. I am really done with living here for now, at this stage of my life. Lives move slowly here. I am not used to this pace. I am not used to the lack of stamina and interest in building more, contributing more, and being a bit more part of the world. It is almost as if I see blurry memories of yesteryears that spring back up constantly waking day after waking day. Anyhow, my life is not repetitive anywhere nor here. And, my life has never been tailored according to external cycles or to exogeneous factors. I came here for a reason. I needed to bring my feet to walk on these soils for a bit. And the circle has closed. I have walked long enough around here to know where I stand.
Now, I am planning to retreat to the country just by myself for a couple days. I want to paint, read, and write. I have a couple of projects pending and I want to finish all of that before the year is over. I want to start this coming decade as purely as a new born. Clean. Clear. Ready. I have plenty to think about for the next year and the next era. I think having those days will be amazing.
Afterwards, I will head to the Ocean. It is going to be incredible to be that close to water and sand. I plan to welcome the New Year feeling ready for it. It is an exciting time.
Rock on!
Your time in Miami sounds outstanding. It is definitely a special place. In my experience, Miami becomes truly amazing when you are surrounded by the right people. The relaxed kind. The ones who can jet set and yet chill at reaggae ska bars at night. The ones who like walking the beach and merging with the bodies and the sun. Sounds like you were with someone really special. That is really cool. The ocean, the streets filled with cross sections of flavours and sounds. The decadence of it all mixing with the glamour. I assume the Art did a lot for the city and it must have made the city feel like a really fantastic place. I am glad.
I am well. I am really done with living here for now, at this stage of my life. Lives move slowly here. I am not used to this pace. I am not used to the lack of stamina and interest in building more, contributing more, and being a bit more part of the world. It is almost as if I see blurry memories of yesteryears that spring back up constantly waking day after waking day. Anyhow, my life is not repetitive anywhere nor here. And, my life has never been tailored according to external cycles or to exogeneous factors. I came here for a reason. I needed to bring my feet to walk on these soils for a bit. And the circle has closed. I have walked long enough around here to know where I stand.
Now, I am planning to retreat to the country just by myself for a couple days. I want to paint, read, and write. I have a couple of projects pending and I want to finish all of that before the year is over. I want to start this coming decade as purely as a new born. Clean. Clear. Ready. I have plenty to think about for the next year and the next era. I think having those days will be amazing.
Afterwards, I will head to the Ocean. It is going to be incredible to be that close to water and sand. I plan to welcome the New Year feeling ready for it. It is an exciting time.
Rock on!
12/02/2009
Saludale al Pato
De ti no me olvido ni un segundo. De hecho, sigo tratando de entender que paso, porque paso, que hacer con lo que paso. A ratos me da ganas de abordar el primer avion y dejar que pase lo que sea, en vez tomar el rumbo del caudal entre mis manos. Me recompongo, mejor dejar pasar lo que el cause quiera. Rio Babel: fluir.
He pasado dos veces desde que te fuiste por ese pasamanos del graderio donde pusiste nuestras manos. Fue egoista de tu parte hacerlo. Solo yo puedo volver alla. La verdad, es un actuar increible. En silencio, estar solo frente a el. En silencio, lo he tocado para sentirlo mio al momento, mio al recuerdo, y mio a ti.
Ahi sigue la piedra que dejamos. Esta sentadita, grande, ella suntuosa, piedra negra suntuosa entre tanta piedra blanca. Como tu y yo, negros y reconocibles, entre tantos lugares blancos pero reconditos donde estuvimos.
Me quede sentado en ese sofa de cuero. Por un largo tiempo. Pensando. Solo. Extranando. Desde tu partida vertical en elevador a un decimo piso. Desde entonces esperando la caida horizontal de tu cuerpo y alma. Pensando sigo. Recordando vivo. Esperando. Viendo la hendidura de nuestros cuerpos en el sofa que seguian marcadas hoy. La forma de nuestros cuerpos. Esperando tiempo. Creo que nadie ha osado sentarse ahi hasta entonces.
Pienso mucho en ti. Espero ese patito amarillo te cuide como quisiera estarte cuidando yo. Y que te bese como quisiera besarte. Saludale al pato. Y recuerdale de lo que es mio.
Tengo la cara bronceada. El cuerpo moreno. Comenzo el proyecto de mi vida sin ti. Te pienso. Sigues conmigo sin embargo. En mi.
He pasado dos veces desde que te fuiste por ese pasamanos del graderio donde pusiste nuestras manos. Fue egoista de tu parte hacerlo. Solo yo puedo volver alla. La verdad, es un actuar increible. En silencio, estar solo frente a el. En silencio, lo he tocado para sentirlo mio al momento, mio al recuerdo, y mio a ti.
Ahi sigue la piedra que dejamos. Esta sentadita, grande, ella suntuosa, piedra negra suntuosa entre tanta piedra blanca. Como tu y yo, negros y reconocibles, entre tantos lugares blancos pero reconditos donde estuvimos.
Me quede sentado en ese sofa de cuero. Por un largo tiempo. Pensando. Solo. Extranando. Desde tu partida vertical en elevador a un decimo piso. Desde entonces esperando la caida horizontal de tu cuerpo y alma. Pensando sigo. Recordando vivo. Esperando. Viendo la hendidura de nuestros cuerpos en el sofa que seguian marcadas hoy. La forma de nuestros cuerpos. Esperando tiempo. Creo que nadie ha osado sentarse ahi hasta entonces.
Pienso mucho en ti. Espero ese patito amarillo te cuide como quisiera estarte cuidando yo. Y que te bese como quisiera besarte. Saludale al pato. Y recuerdale de lo que es mio.
Tengo la cara bronceada. El cuerpo moreno. Comenzo el proyecto de mi vida sin ti. Te pienso. Sigues conmigo sin embargo. En mi.
11/25/2009
Milagros: Sky Transitions
I know my "notes" are not exemplary behaviour of any kind. I say they are "quick" and they turn out be nothing like that. Coming from me, that is a good sign. I do not do things half ass. Now, why do I equate substance with length? Something to think about? Anyhow, when my notes become dully short, worry about me. I pour myself. I try to deliver content. To my max abilities, even if it is mediocre, or superficial, these notes are: attempted at, directed at, thought about, and then submitted for your consideration, nation.
Only when I lived in England and in San Francisco did I experience sky stransitions. I have been in other places and see similar versions. Still, only those places where truly memorable for their skies. "Milagros" is what I like to call them: glimpses of light, of evaporating water, that mixes with rays of sun delivering nonsense and uncertainty regarding the possiblity of weather phenomena that are not predictable. I miss milagros. Enjoyed them. I know they lead to nostalgia way too easily. And that sometimes witnessing skies like that every day, again and again, can be rough. Still, open our eyes. Let them fill you. And, when the humidity breaks your bones, leave. Your eyes, by then, will stop seeing the skies. Your body will be too shaken. The images will be tampered with. Leave. The climate will not change. It will be waiting for you for another season in your life when humidity leaves and the sky will be again misterious, exciting, yet not threatening.
I know you are seeking Bjork. You are rare in that. I wish she was playing live. That is all you need to enter to tribe. To see her live. In action. To let the audience reach the moment of silence when she sings (that is a natural phenomenon itself, nothing I have seen before) penetrate you. Only then will it become a blind need. You will listen. You will adore it. I cannot wait to hear it full strength while I paint. I think it is time. To attempt to see myself. To discover myself in my trace. To plug myself. It is large scale, really large. So the music as seen and heard by Bjork will be great company. It will be as though you were around, encouraging my creative nonsense, my striving, my lack of pure talent or mastery of tecnique making its way through a canvas. I still love it that way. I am, Imperfect.
I really like the idea of moving to the desert.
I am trying you to get to realize genius (of the mind, of the heart, of the creative spirits) lives with a will of its own. It is destructive. It is constructive. It can be confused. Now more than ever, for us more than anyone (because we are privileged beings who have received an education, both academic and emotional) truly care responsibilities with choices of location. I am glad your decision was made that way. It sounds inspiring not only seductive, which I find to be. It sounds directed and challenging, which makes me lust for more. I am glad. Deserts carry special winds. I can only imagine what you will find there.
Be scared. Be lonely. I am glad to know you know where you are headed. That is, above all, the best, not for the planning, but rather, because you are truly open to let the sand into you. To do whatever it can. And should it harm, the place sounds idilic to be escaped from.
Sorry to intrude, if I did, but I need to contribute. Prove you. Help you test your ideas. Let there be reasoning behind it. And if there is any, then conviction should suffice. Either reason or pure heart work for me. They all exceed any ridiculous sense of mediocre flow without conviction in life. Expericening both of all worlds sounds perfect.
Stop talking about the beautiful people as other than you... or you, just watching them away from you... I think, in the usual definition, you fit the bill of what you seem to think they are... in my definition of beautiful things, you crash them.
Anyhow. Feel free to see what you want to see. You know me. I know what I am made off. And what I want. I will approach the bench, your honor, if need be. Anyhow, enough from my nonsense. Yet again, another "quick note". I shall stop.
Only when I lived in England and in San Francisco did I experience sky stransitions. I have been in other places and see similar versions. Still, only those places where truly memorable for their skies. "Milagros" is what I like to call them: glimpses of light, of evaporating water, that mixes with rays of sun delivering nonsense and uncertainty regarding the possiblity of weather phenomena that are not predictable. I miss milagros. Enjoyed them. I know they lead to nostalgia way too easily. And that sometimes witnessing skies like that every day, again and again, can be rough. Still, open our eyes. Let them fill you. And, when the humidity breaks your bones, leave. Your eyes, by then, will stop seeing the skies. Your body will be too shaken. The images will be tampered with. Leave. The climate will not change. It will be waiting for you for another season in your life when humidity leaves and the sky will be again misterious, exciting, yet not threatening.
I know you are seeking Bjork. You are rare in that. I wish she was playing live. That is all you need to enter to tribe. To see her live. In action. To let the audience reach the moment of silence when she sings (that is a natural phenomenon itself, nothing I have seen before) penetrate you. Only then will it become a blind need. You will listen. You will adore it. I cannot wait to hear it full strength while I paint. I think it is time. To attempt to see myself. To discover myself in my trace. To plug myself. It is large scale, really large. So the music as seen and heard by Bjork will be great company. It will be as though you were around, encouraging my creative nonsense, my striving, my lack of pure talent or mastery of tecnique making its way through a canvas. I still love it that way. I am, Imperfect.
I really like the idea of moving to the desert.
I am trying you to get to realize genius (of the mind, of the heart, of the creative spirits) lives with a will of its own. It is destructive. It is constructive. It can be confused. Now more than ever, for us more than anyone (because we are privileged beings who have received an education, both academic and emotional) truly care responsibilities with choices of location. I am glad your decision was made that way. It sounds inspiring not only seductive, which I find to be. It sounds directed and challenging, which makes me lust for more. I am glad. Deserts carry special winds. I can only imagine what you will find there.
Be scared. Be lonely. I am glad to know you know where you are headed. That is, above all, the best, not for the planning, but rather, because you are truly open to let the sand into you. To do whatever it can. And should it harm, the place sounds idilic to be escaped from.
Sorry to intrude, if I did, but I need to contribute. Prove you. Help you test your ideas. Let there be reasoning behind it. And if there is any, then conviction should suffice. Either reason or pure heart work for me. They all exceed any ridiculous sense of mediocre flow without conviction in life. Expericening both of all worlds sounds perfect.
Stop talking about the beautiful people as other than you... or you, just watching them away from you... I think, in the usual definition, you fit the bill of what you seem to think they are... in my definition of beautiful things, you crash them.
Anyhow. Feel free to see what you want to see. You know me. I know what I am made off. And what I want. I will approach the bench, your honor, if need be. Anyhow, enough from my nonsense. Yet again, another "quick note". I shall stop.
11/20/2009
Blue Hearts
I am writing and in unison feeling a need for fresh cold water dripping over my entire body. Fresh cold water gets your blood pumping, you know? You should do it more often. Sorry. I digress. A common trait of my mind. I write for a different reason.
It is strange. Normally, during courtship, I develop a name to call whoever is courting me (are you courting me?). I am still finding yours. Your name, that is. For some reason, this nickname or name remains elusive. X, for now, is the one I like. Perhaps coupled with the ever general "baby". But you are not my baby. So I think I will have to keep on looking.
I woke up from a long nap to find a missed call from an Unregistered Number. I went in to hear the voicemail and heard your voice. Bliss. Pure bliss. Right then. Thank you for calling.
I left yesterday to Papallacta late in the afternoon. Quito and the valleys were sunny. The sunset was stunning. There was not a single cloud in the sky. I went there to find friends who are visiting. They stayed for a bit. Then, I was left alone in the steaming vertient water, at night. Dark night.
After watering myself and watering my heart out, I drove at night. You could barely see a thing during a night like that. The road is dangerous. Blue hearts, all over. People have died on that road. Every once and again, I turned the car lights off and drove slowly. You could not see a thing. Not a single thing but the mountain's backdroping against the sky.
I decided to park roadside. The road was amazingly dark and there were few cars going by. Mind you, it was Friday, 9:00pm. Just like when I was relaxing at the pools, the night felt illuminated. Illuminated by stars and the reflection of the dark mountains all around.
I stood, both in the pools with rising vapour and near the road, sensing all I could sense. I wanted to get the feeling of being alive. Of standing. Of touching feet, my feet, feeling the ground. Of water or wind brushing my skin. Trying to get a sense of the vitality I sorely seek to encounter after such an intense and gruesome period of focus in indoor spaces over the past 9 years. Leave the offices behind. Leave the city, the concrete, the sounds, behind. And instead, find self, find my own self. Find him with perspective. Not in a much obnoxious existential way but rather in a simple and unintentional or unprovoked way. I did find him. I realized he misses you. He misses you much.
Since, I went to my farm. I opened the last bottle of rose and thought of you and the last afternoon we spent together the entire time. I miss it. I cannot wait for our next best moment.
As I mentioned, I even napped. I think I had napped 3 times in my adult life. I never got used to it. The waking time was always too confusing. Why was it day? Why was I not living? Why was not exploring? I would get chills, headaches, and obviously mess up my night time sleep. Even when I was working from 4:45am to 8:00pm, I did not feel an urge to nap. I slept at night and that was enough. I guess today it felt cathartic to go to bed in the middle of the afternoon. So I did. I rested.
I filmed videos today during a semi drunken stupor. I also opened a book I have been wanting to open for a while. The "Frida Kahlo Diary". A dear friend gave it to me recently as he opened my dairy and had thought I modeled my diary after Frida's. I thought he was complementing me as I had not open a single book by her. I had only seen and liked her paintings. I noticed something though: I need to continue with my dairy. Mine is like hers, filled with nonsense of the heart, intensity, and dreams that happen inside.
I realize my diary's size needs to expand. I need to paint and draw more in there. It is going to be incredible. This day, for that, is important. For I found an outlet. If I die, please go looking for it. For the things that are in there. There is a ton.
I wish you had written in mine. I have only allowed 3 people to write in that notebook. You have to be the 4th. They are people that are dear. That know me. That, like you, in a way or another, have seen me.
I am here now. Writing to you. Hoping to hear your voice. Please call if you get this. I will have my phone with me.
It is strange. Normally, during courtship, I develop a name to call whoever is courting me (are you courting me?). I am still finding yours. Your name, that is. For some reason, this nickname or name remains elusive. X, for now, is the one I like. Perhaps coupled with the ever general "baby". But you are not my baby. So I think I will have to keep on looking.
I woke up from a long nap to find a missed call from an Unregistered Number. I went in to hear the voicemail and heard your voice. Bliss. Pure bliss. Right then. Thank you for calling.
I left yesterday to Papallacta late in the afternoon. Quito and the valleys were sunny. The sunset was stunning. There was not a single cloud in the sky. I went there to find friends who are visiting. They stayed for a bit. Then, I was left alone in the steaming vertient water, at night. Dark night.
After watering myself and watering my heart out, I drove at night. You could barely see a thing during a night like that. The road is dangerous. Blue hearts, all over. People have died on that road. Every once and again, I turned the car lights off and drove slowly. You could not see a thing. Not a single thing but the mountain's backdroping against the sky.
I decided to park roadside. The road was amazingly dark and there were few cars going by. Mind you, it was Friday, 9:00pm. Just like when I was relaxing at the pools, the night felt illuminated. Illuminated by stars and the reflection of the dark mountains all around.
I stood, both in the pools with rising vapour and near the road, sensing all I could sense. I wanted to get the feeling of being alive. Of standing. Of touching feet, my feet, feeling the ground. Of water or wind brushing my skin. Trying to get a sense of the vitality I sorely seek to encounter after such an intense and gruesome period of focus in indoor spaces over the past 9 years. Leave the offices behind. Leave the city, the concrete, the sounds, behind. And instead, find self, find my own self. Find him with perspective. Not in a much obnoxious existential way but rather in a simple and unintentional or unprovoked way. I did find him. I realized he misses you. He misses you much.
Since, I went to my farm. I opened the last bottle of rose and thought of you and the last afternoon we spent together the entire time. I miss it. I cannot wait for our next best moment.
As I mentioned, I even napped. I think I had napped 3 times in my adult life. I never got used to it. The waking time was always too confusing. Why was it day? Why was I not living? Why was not exploring? I would get chills, headaches, and obviously mess up my night time sleep. Even when I was working from 4:45am to 8:00pm, I did not feel an urge to nap. I slept at night and that was enough. I guess today it felt cathartic to go to bed in the middle of the afternoon. So I did. I rested.
I filmed videos today during a semi drunken stupor. I also opened a book I have been wanting to open for a while. The "Frida Kahlo Diary". A dear friend gave it to me recently as he opened my dairy and had thought I modeled my diary after Frida's. I thought he was complementing me as I had not open a single book by her. I had only seen and liked her paintings. I noticed something though: I need to continue with my dairy. Mine is like hers, filled with nonsense of the heart, intensity, and dreams that happen inside.
I realize my diary's size needs to expand. I need to paint and draw more in there. It is going to be incredible. This day, for that, is important. For I found an outlet. If I die, please go looking for it. For the things that are in there. There is a ton.
I wish you had written in mine. I have only allowed 3 people to write in that notebook. You have to be the 4th. They are people that are dear. That know me. That, like you, in a way or another, have seen me.
I am here now. Writing to you. Hoping to hear your voice. Please call if you get this. I will have my phone with me.
Walk On, Dream On!
I am glad the words I sent touched you. I felt the importance of yesterday as a day in your life. I felt the importance of having, finally, a day to move ahead, onwards, towards a new life that brings with it, all that you have experimented to date. It is not easy to place feelings anywhere during and after days like yesterday. It is not easy to find access to clarity in days like yesterday. I think people tend to actually walk ahead without giving much consideration to the real breaking points in life. Usually, because there is much suffering ahead of those moments or so much hardship, or so many feelings prior to reaching to the moment that when it is all said and done, they just walk.
I think it is critical to recognize the emotional exhaustion. It is critical to realize that you have a right to continue rebuilding yourself and that you put the standards for your happiness sky high. I have gone through a similar process than yours in a similar time frame, i.e. coping with giving way to the process of turning my identity inside out. The process, however, still remains in me. It has spreaded out to a few others but very few indeed. Because it is my process. It is my private adventure of getting to know myself. And the baggage or the weights of this process only I can understand. Others have helped, but I know it best. Your situation was so much more complex. It entailed departing away from a love a standard a history. It entailed finding yourself having to give explanations that I know are hard to give because it really should not matter to anyone but you and that other person. But, your process had so much more weight than mine.
When I look at my situation, I notice periods of intense solitude, of mind wandering, of questioning. I am my worse critic but my only saviour. I am my harshest advisor but my only caretaker. Those moments are not light. Those discussions, when they take place inside one's body (somewhere between the mind and the heart), are dense and dark, and often last for a very long time until solutions are reached. Internal struggles hurt but at the same time create incredible spaces for experimenting true living, true happiness.
I did not know you when you were going through those moments. I unfortunately was not around to comfort you. But I feel that I am here now. And, while our situations are not comparable given yours is so deep, what I do understand is the moments you lived inside of yourself trying to cover any potential emotional leakage from breaking out of you. The many attempts to cover a flask after the lid was removed from it. The incredulous reaction to finding dead ends to certain feelings, over and over again, and in turn just focusing on other things to go away.
Even if you were in love, which was not my situation during that period, I know how much it took to speak, talk, listen, advice, and just continue in silence. It is draining. It is one's heaviness. And it gets tiring. And it gets old. And no matter what, you have to know that overcoming such processes took a lot of courage and was, and time will prove you of this, the right thing to do.
I hope you realize that life is happening. Your life is happening. Your self, no matter at what age, is developing and finding ever new forms to extend itself in the world and amongst people. That process need not come to an end ever. You should not feel guilty for a single second about living and starting over. You cannot put yourself on hold for anyone because you will not reach the potential you are here to reach. You cannot put yourself in the back, because you have to live your life up front and center. The fears, the sentiments, all the confusion, is normal. And they have to rise. But they also need to give way to opportunity for new things to happen. They need to give way to fresh opportunity to live.
Seek balance. Seek peace. And continue seeking yourself. I think that is a process that never ends. Never. In Demian, Hesse spoke about walking to path to oneself. He says, in that book, that is the entire purpose of existence. That we may come here to do certain things, but that in end, every man and every woman must walk the path to him and herself to truly live. I think it is a difficult notion to understand. You can be an absolutist and simply let it all go and seize the day and dedicate yourself to that pursuit. But, it does not work like that. We walk throughout life and then we suddenly find ourselves bare, finally understanding simple sentences, occurrences, that in one way or another marked us. And the beauty of this entire idea is that no path is the same to the other. No soul works like the other. No man ending his love because of the reason you did will have a fine solution for you. Your life is unique. Your process is yours. And it is fine to face it, embrace it, and continue walking because you are not there yet.
I am glad you have given thought to all this. I cannot even fathom who you were before. And how you suffered. I just do not see those scars. Rather, I see a very light soul, a brave and intelligent human being, who lives and walks and does. All of what I have said is not because you poured things onto me. It is because I have thought about you, your life, and how you came to meet me. That is what one should do, no? Get to know people who affect your life. Get to understand them. Not take them face value but rather look at them and explore their pasts and yours with them from whatever point you find one another. That is what I have done.
You have not unloaded on anyone. People choose to be there or not. I chose to be there. And what I heard was what I wanted. If I did not, you would likely not be hearing from me as I would have thought you were superficial, uncharacteristic of the attributes I seek, and would have felt completely different about you. But that is not the case.
You are ready for a new chapter. Take baths or showers of cold water every other day. Let those baths be reminders of the new life you have on your hands. Walk out of them feeling your blood pumping and your heart beating. Feel inspired. Let all this time of grieving become something empowering. You now know yourself better than many do. More importantly, you know yourself better than you knew yourself before. That is an asset for happiness.
Walk on, dream on!
I think it is critical to recognize the emotional exhaustion. It is critical to realize that you have a right to continue rebuilding yourself and that you put the standards for your happiness sky high. I have gone through a similar process than yours in a similar time frame, i.e. coping with giving way to the process of turning my identity inside out. The process, however, still remains in me. It has spreaded out to a few others but very few indeed. Because it is my process. It is my private adventure of getting to know myself. And the baggage or the weights of this process only I can understand. Others have helped, but I know it best. Your situation was so much more complex. It entailed departing away from a love a standard a history. It entailed finding yourself having to give explanations that I know are hard to give because it really should not matter to anyone but you and that other person. But, your process had so much more weight than mine.
When I look at my situation, I notice periods of intense solitude, of mind wandering, of questioning. I am my worse critic but my only saviour. I am my harshest advisor but my only caretaker. Those moments are not light. Those discussions, when they take place inside one's body (somewhere between the mind and the heart), are dense and dark, and often last for a very long time until solutions are reached. Internal struggles hurt but at the same time create incredible spaces for experimenting true living, true happiness.
I did not know you when you were going through those moments. I unfortunately was not around to comfort you. But I feel that I am here now. And, while our situations are not comparable given yours is so deep, what I do understand is the moments you lived inside of yourself trying to cover any potential emotional leakage from breaking out of you. The many attempts to cover a flask after the lid was removed from it. The incredulous reaction to finding dead ends to certain feelings, over and over again, and in turn just focusing on other things to go away.
Even if you were in love, which was not my situation during that period, I know how much it took to speak, talk, listen, advice, and just continue in silence. It is draining. It is one's heaviness. And it gets tiring. And it gets old. And no matter what, you have to know that overcoming such processes took a lot of courage and was, and time will prove you of this, the right thing to do.
I hope you realize that life is happening. Your life is happening. Your self, no matter at what age, is developing and finding ever new forms to extend itself in the world and amongst people. That process need not come to an end ever. You should not feel guilty for a single second about living and starting over. You cannot put yourself on hold for anyone because you will not reach the potential you are here to reach. You cannot put yourself in the back, because you have to live your life up front and center. The fears, the sentiments, all the confusion, is normal. And they have to rise. But they also need to give way to opportunity for new things to happen. They need to give way to fresh opportunity to live.
Seek balance. Seek peace. And continue seeking yourself. I think that is a process that never ends. Never. In Demian, Hesse spoke about walking to path to oneself. He says, in that book, that is the entire purpose of existence. That we may come here to do certain things, but that in end, every man and every woman must walk the path to him and herself to truly live. I think it is a difficult notion to understand. You can be an absolutist and simply let it all go and seize the day and dedicate yourself to that pursuit. But, it does not work like that. We walk throughout life and then we suddenly find ourselves bare, finally understanding simple sentences, occurrences, that in one way or another marked us. And the beauty of this entire idea is that no path is the same to the other. No soul works like the other. No man ending his love because of the reason you did will have a fine solution for you. Your life is unique. Your process is yours. And it is fine to face it, embrace it, and continue walking because you are not there yet.
I am glad you have given thought to all this. I cannot even fathom who you were before. And how you suffered. I just do not see those scars. Rather, I see a very light soul, a brave and intelligent human being, who lives and walks and does. All of what I have said is not because you poured things onto me. It is because I have thought about you, your life, and how you came to meet me. That is what one should do, no? Get to know people who affect your life. Get to understand them. Not take them face value but rather look at them and explore their pasts and yours with them from whatever point you find one another. That is what I have done.
You have not unloaded on anyone. People choose to be there or not. I chose to be there. And what I heard was what I wanted. If I did not, you would likely not be hearing from me as I would have thought you were superficial, uncharacteristic of the attributes I seek, and would have felt completely different about you. But that is not the case.
You are ready for a new chapter. Take baths or showers of cold water every other day. Let those baths be reminders of the new life you have on your hands. Walk out of them feeling your blood pumping and your heart beating. Feel inspired. Let all this time of grieving become something empowering. You now know yourself better than many do. More importantly, you know yourself better than you knew yourself before. That is an asset for happiness.
Walk on, dream on!
11/18/2009
3 Minute Glance @ the Mirror
I cannot believe you filed those papers today. That soon after, you were standing at that amazing building constructed by one of the architecture geniuses of our times. And later, you were communicating with me. Speaking. Now, as a person who is no longer, officially, un-free (is that a word?). A period ends. Another one starts.
I can only imagine the implications today will have (symbolically). You can reinvent yourself. Perhaps you do not need to. Perhaps you already have over the past two years. Regardless, what happens from today onwards is not trivial. What happened before was not trivial either. But, let me say it again: what happens from today onwards is not trivial. You are here. You matter. You come first again.
So, today may be a very important day in your life. Not as a date but as a point in your life. From now onwards, you can decide to go with the flow of things; you can feel strange because this may seem perfectly normal; you can let all these feelings dissipate and not really think about them because there is nothing more you can feel in regards to this process because you have felt it all and have conquered all those feelings and already are at a new stage in your life where signing those papers did not really mean a lot. Perhaps you signed those papers a long time ago in your heart.
From my point of view, your psyche could and will likely develop new patterns of behaviour. Just because of signing those papers. Naturally, there are new goals to think about. A love to be found. Relationships to be had. A shared life? A solitary life? Terms will need to be set. Inevitably, we do that. Unaware or aware, your life can and may start taking new turns because you now can.
It could be noticed, analyzed, or, it could go by with you just finally having the allowance of flowing without the weight of this process on your back. The feelings steming from ending something that was special, important, and then became grueling and difficult are difficult to rejoice or know where to put. Those processes leave scars. Leave a void. Leave someone important in your past with a title that they no longer hold. Those processes allow you to move ahead with the promise that you may be friends again someday but more importantly with the promise of building a life for yourself in new terms. Do that. Believe in the latter promise more than anything. Everything else will come.
What to think upon reaching closure of such a difficult process? What to feel after ending a period of darkness that was preceded by so much light? What to think upon departing away from someone you had an incredible time with but then shared so much heartaches with? Relief as she dissppears and becomes part of your past? An consolable feeling of just wanting to someday reach out to her and make sure she is going to be okay with everything? Making sure you cover all steps so YOU are okay with everything? Waves and waves of ideas, feelings, and plans to keep up the momentum of your life going and finding ways to continue with energy to make the best of the change you embarked on after ending such a chapter in your life? I hope it is a mix of all these things.
I have told you a lot of things but not many about our intimacies. I do not know if you noticed but we spent a lot of time getting to know each other in between naps. Those conversations I miss so much. They felt so raw. So real. So dreamy. They happened at such a state. My body, my mind and heart where there. During these conversations I glanced into you.
I know very little and all I know is from those conversations. Still, it feels as though you must have a lot on your mind and that is why I insist of looking into you and making sure you are okay. Do not let these things pass you by. Give them a moment and think about yourself in new terms, in old terms, in future terms.
I noticed that this has had an impact on you and that you have worked so hard on overcoming it. But I also noticed that you make it seem it has not been as hard as it was. Perhaps you have recovered and that is just my illusion. But, I sensed that it was truly harsh. And that you made the best of it yet it took a lot out of you. Know that. I am proud of you for being honest in your life and seeking happiness. For living fully and generously always. For working hard on recovering and not taking anyone's feelings lightly. I hope you are proud too.
It is not easy to understand what you have gone through in regards to the end of this love in your life. To an external person to you, like me, this could be a very smart person who holds his own in life and simply has an advanced level of emotional maturity and has coped well with the crisis and simply knows where to stand. Or, perhaps, you can be a relaxed person, who does not want to think about things and delve on them but rather look at things for what they were and understand that loves end no matter how much effort you put into things. Or, you can be someone who went through a long period of confusion and saw the light was relieved to just start living. I did not know, for a while, how you felt about all this. And I mean, I now know because you told me and I saw you. You have gone through a lot. Breathe. Look at yourself in the mirror for 3 minutes. Let the view soak you.
Anyhow, I want to be sure you are okay. I want to be sure you make sure you are okay. I want you to feel no fears. No regrets. And if you do, understand them. And deal with them. Move ahead lightly. Do not carry baggage.
Wow. I have been writing this and it is so difficul to convey what I want to say. I wish you were in bed with me so we could talk. I just mean to say: I am here for anything. Any time. I am here. Know that. For anything.
I can only imagine the implications today will have (symbolically). You can reinvent yourself. Perhaps you do not need to. Perhaps you already have over the past two years. Regardless, what happens from today onwards is not trivial. What happened before was not trivial either. But, let me say it again: what happens from today onwards is not trivial. You are here. You matter. You come first again.
So, today may be a very important day in your life. Not as a date but as a point in your life. From now onwards, you can decide to go with the flow of things; you can feel strange because this may seem perfectly normal; you can let all these feelings dissipate and not really think about them because there is nothing more you can feel in regards to this process because you have felt it all and have conquered all those feelings and already are at a new stage in your life where signing those papers did not really mean a lot. Perhaps you signed those papers a long time ago in your heart.
From my point of view, your psyche could and will likely develop new patterns of behaviour. Just because of signing those papers. Naturally, there are new goals to think about. A love to be found. Relationships to be had. A shared life? A solitary life? Terms will need to be set. Inevitably, we do that. Unaware or aware, your life can and may start taking new turns because you now can.
It could be noticed, analyzed, or, it could go by with you just finally having the allowance of flowing without the weight of this process on your back. The feelings steming from ending something that was special, important, and then became grueling and difficult are difficult to rejoice or know where to put. Those processes leave scars. Leave a void. Leave someone important in your past with a title that they no longer hold. Those processes allow you to move ahead with the promise that you may be friends again someday but more importantly with the promise of building a life for yourself in new terms. Do that. Believe in the latter promise more than anything. Everything else will come.
What to think upon reaching closure of such a difficult process? What to feel after ending a period of darkness that was preceded by so much light? What to think upon departing away from someone you had an incredible time with but then shared so much heartaches with? Relief as she dissppears and becomes part of your past? An consolable feeling of just wanting to someday reach out to her and make sure she is going to be okay with everything? Making sure you cover all steps so YOU are okay with everything? Waves and waves of ideas, feelings, and plans to keep up the momentum of your life going and finding ways to continue with energy to make the best of the change you embarked on after ending such a chapter in your life? I hope it is a mix of all these things.
I have told you a lot of things but not many about our intimacies. I do not know if you noticed but we spent a lot of time getting to know each other in between naps. Those conversations I miss so much. They felt so raw. So real. So dreamy. They happened at such a state. My body, my mind and heart where there. During these conversations I glanced into you.
I know very little and all I know is from those conversations. Still, it feels as though you must have a lot on your mind and that is why I insist of looking into you and making sure you are okay. Do not let these things pass you by. Give them a moment and think about yourself in new terms, in old terms, in future terms.
I noticed that this has had an impact on you and that you have worked so hard on overcoming it. But I also noticed that you make it seem it has not been as hard as it was. Perhaps you have recovered and that is just my illusion. But, I sensed that it was truly harsh. And that you made the best of it yet it took a lot out of you. Know that. I am proud of you for being honest in your life and seeking happiness. For living fully and generously always. For working hard on recovering and not taking anyone's feelings lightly. I hope you are proud too.
It is not easy to understand what you have gone through in regards to the end of this love in your life. To an external person to you, like me, this could be a very smart person who holds his own in life and simply has an advanced level of emotional maturity and has coped well with the crisis and simply knows where to stand. Or, perhaps, you can be a relaxed person, who does not want to think about things and delve on them but rather look at things for what they were and understand that loves end no matter how much effort you put into things. Or, you can be someone who went through a long period of confusion and saw the light was relieved to just start living. I did not know, for a while, how you felt about all this. And I mean, I now know because you told me and I saw you. You have gone through a lot. Breathe. Look at yourself in the mirror for 3 minutes. Let the view soak you.
Anyhow, I want to be sure you are okay. I want to be sure you make sure you are okay. I want you to feel no fears. No regrets. And if you do, understand them. And deal with them. Move ahead lightly. Do not carry baggage.
Wow. I have been writing this and it is so difficul to convey what I want to say. I wish you were in bed with me so we could talk. I just mean to say: I am here for anything. Any time. I am here. Know that. For anything.
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