Friday, February 23, 2018

This Sex Thing Again

So I had somewhat of a realization last night. And I'm not entirely sure what it means. But it struck me, and I took note that it was important.

I was driving home from work. Took a micro dose of weed. For some reason started thinking about a couple situations with women.

I wrote about one already. The one where I didn't go on a date. Then there was another instance.

I got a number from a lady at work. A patron, not a co-worker.

And here is what I realized.

I evaluate everyone I meet on the basis of whether or not I would fuck them. And maybe we all have these thoughts. We're primal animals right, born to procreate. So, why wouldn't we.

But I think for me it is more along the detrimental lines.

I mean it makes sense. All I know is the stigma religion and society puts on sex.

What the fuck else am I supposed to think?!

Society tells me something ass fucking backwards, I don't even know what it's trying to say.

And religion taught me it was a dirty fucking thing to do. To be confined to marriage, and behind closed doors at that. Never to be talked about.

And so there is the double stigma. Thank you religion for fucking me in the head!!!

And society, you beautiful fucking bitch, thank you for being so....fucked!!


Ok. I feel better.

So anyways, these are my thoughts. I meet someone and immediately its would I fuck them. Should I be friends or fuck them. Can I be friends and fuck them. If we fuck, will it turn serious. Do I want to fuck this person if it does turn serious. Whos fucking who. Who am I fucking. No one. GODDAMN IT!! I need to fuck. Who can I fuck.

And the fucking fuck cycle goes on and on. Except now, I have developed somewhat of a courage to say no. But its more of a fight against myself to just hold back so I don't "fuck" any kind of relationship I have with any one up.

Because this is the pattern. As soon as I fuck. I lose interest. And that fucking sucks. I don't know why. Probably a pattern I created over the past 6 years, cause, whats a boy going to do when hes been told his whole life sex is this horrible disgusting thing, PORN, Dicks, Ass,....

Oh, I like what I see. Balls to the walls exploration, fuck everyone and everything!!!

Haha, holy shit, I'm fucked.

So yeah, I see a women that I logically analyze (hahaha, now I'm seeing sex things everywhere...analyze....anal...get it?)

So I see a woman I logically analyze as being someone I could spend the rest of my life with and I create a disposition to Not fuck her. Cause if I do I'll lose interest.

Then I meet a woman I don't mind hanging out with, but don't see any future. So I fuck her. Then lose interest.

Dear god, this is really embarrassing. Fuck me.

God, so many fucks in this one.

So then that whole idea that I was embarrassed to not see, from the last post, about being friends first comes to mind.

And I saw the potential in it. But then there was the idea that I have to say no. And Jesus that seems extremely difficult.

And I don't know what any of this means.

I do know though. That I should probably focus on this friends thing. Yup.

I don't like how I have been treating women. I mean I have respect and would never intentionally treat a woman in a degrading way.

But looking at how I think right now. Fuck, its pretty cut and dry that I see them as an object....

oooh fuck...


I guess that's the issue. I don't see a human being full of love and life. I get caught up in my own selfish meanderings of my mind and boyish fucking ideas. Pun intended.

Uuugh, this is horse shit. I'm just happy that I can become aware of these things.

The act of simply coming into awareness of something changes the paradigm I believe. Because at least now the alternate thought can be ruminated on and explored.

Woman are beautiful creatures of love and life and should be explored from an inquisitive perspective of mind and emotion, in perspective with how much they are willing to express.

I still feel lost on this. But I am happy I see something new in it.

It is a struggle for me.

But I know something new will come out of this. It always does.


yay, to sex.

'La Loving Logan'

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

An Embarrassment

I don't know where I'm going with this.

I caught myself thinking in blog form. I was having a full on type session. Which is similar to a conversation with myself. I start yammering and I find myself way the fuck out in no mans land. Always curious things for sure.

I found myself wanting to write again. But at the same time I didn't want to.

I think it was another scare moment. Probably because its fucking embarrassing.  What happened over the past week, and then realizing what happened over the past week, then I had this moment of, uh, where I felt extremely embarrassed for myself. Fuck yeah, I'm dope at these run on sentences.

Its embarrassing because it super simple. I know I always say that. But this one is simple in terms of ...

I'm all trying to like describe it without telling you what actually happened.

Nothing horrible. Just no longer going on a date. Or didn't go, at this point. That's not the embarrassing part. The part I don't like is why. I know why now, I think.

I scared her off. For some reason I get these thoughts in my head sometimes about some women that I meet, where it starts off as forever. Like, I totally bypass the friend stage and see a random ass future, and think, yeah I like what shes about. Lets just go all in on the first hand.

So I had spoken my intentions, which I think I talked about before. And half week later she changed her mind. But I didn't even realize what I was doing till I told me mum about it.

And this is where the light bulb goes on.

"Why don't you just be friends first"? she says.

mm. Yeah that actually makes sense. Which is sooooo fucking stupid. I guess I'm embarrassed about it because I don't understand why I do this. And shes not the first. There have been a good handful of chics where my head goes crazy. It obviously doesn't work out.

I don't know man. Thats how a lot of things go for me to. I just absolutely don't see it, till its too late or something crazy happens. Slightly scary. I won't lie.

Yeah. Idk. I guess thats where psychoanalyzing comes into play. Or maybe I do sit on the outskirts of the spectrum mentally. I think that sometimes.

Ok, a lot of times. And its not so much that I can't handle it. It just absolutely makes no sense a lot of times to me.

But I also think that's because I have developed tendencies to ignore my feelings. My deep seeded emotions.

I'm getting better at it. At noticing them. Allowing myself to feel them.

I actually expressed anger today to a friend. Through text, so I don't know if it totally counts. But I normally ignore, or side step...completely ignore what they are saying because I get angry. And I feel like saying anything in anger is not good for me.

But, today I thought maybe it might be an ok idea. So I decided to act differently on it. I don't feel bad about it. I didn't say anything hurtful. But I did say the words that were on my mind, text words. So I had to use exclamation points. And one time I used the voice to text, and it put asteriks on the word fucking. I didn't like that.

So I got more angry.


About getting more angry. But it did put asteriks and, I don't like that it does that.

You know something though, its strange. Cause I was actually able to let go of it, quite a bit. It still popped in my head a couple times throughout the night, but it was always less and less of a stress.

And by the end of the night when I was able to reply to her, yet again snide comment, I was calm and collected.

If she reads this, she might get mad about me saying "snide". I don't know why I think that, I just do.

I'll talk to her before she can ever read this, so it will be ok. Water under the goddamn fucking shit bridge. Amen

Why does doing this help? Someone told me the other day that writing is thinking. But it's more than just the writing.

Its the free flow of letting my thoughts go through a process with a focus. And then putting forth the option of people being able to see it.


So to embarrassment and being angry. I know more embarrassing moments will come. I know I'll get angry again. But I guess the embarrassment will teach me a lesson....again. And the anger.

Well, not gonna lie, I enjoy the anger sometimes. I like the way it feels. Probably because it's intense, and I like intense things. And experiencing an intense happy or glad moment doesn't seem to happen to often at this point.

Buuuut, I can see it changing. I like that.

oh, by the way.

It's 12:12 right now on

2+0+1+8= 11


2+2+2+2= 8

Fuck yeah! I like 2s and I like the number 8.

To infinity and the never ending cycle.

'La Loving Logan'

Sunday, February 18, 2018

Potential of Poetry

Its madness.

It's all fucking madness.

The madness is fucking, the chaos is here.

And what have we here?

A thought,  a prayer, a whisper you care.

But what if there's no one there to hear?

Does the whisper fall like an autumn leaf.

Float to the ground, crushed beneath,

The trammpings of madmen un-aware.

Its vague, I'm fishing, I have no feeling.

I like rythm.

The rhythm of my soul.

My selfish inquiry that stitches me whole.

I grew up in a cult, I was lost to myself.

Taught how to not think, put my heart on a shelf.

Collect dust, it's wicked, inherent with sin.

Believe what I tell you, no more questions, never again.

So I fold my hands like a good little boy.

Cross my eyes and dot my t's.

You know nothing of the man I am to be.

Emotions bottled for 3 decades by count.

Explosions of pain and heartache, knocked down.

Inspring lessons from childhood I see.

Get back up, stand on my feet.

Another brick wall, I must be insane.

The insanity is doing the same thing, same thing, same thing

Same thing, expecting the same result.

Resulting in breaking walls as I go.

I go to the edge and I plummet I fall.

I fall into darkness, I crawl through my past.

My past is haunting, accepting my fate.

Artistry, music, words are my game.

Games that I play as I coalesce words.

Doesn't mean that I trust.

I pay attention I must.

Words and actions tell a story.

Align them with self and find personal glory.

God like, like god, we are beings of greatness.

I am God you are God, the treachery is complacence.

Actions speak louder than words they say.

Yet words cut deep, their master they obey.

Pay attention to attention,  the crux of awareness.

Expansion this mansion on what sort of foundation.

Construction of destruction will find you for sure.

Unless you destruct the construct of programs.

Societal concepts that go against nature's hand.

Be a man, don't cry, you fight like a girl.

Binary concepts, antiquated world.

I'm a man, but I feel so much like a woman.

Androgyny, emotional, conceptual feelings.

I love my hair long, I enjoy feeling pretty.

I hide my flamboyance, with this comes self pity.

A constant working in progress, that's me.

To unravel the social learnings I see.

To cry like a human, feel no shame or guilt.

And believe me when I say, on this your religion is built.

Shame shame shame, shame on you for who you are.

Guilty as fuck, for being human you are charged.

For the crime of sin that has never been committed.

Your judgments can eat shit and suck on my dick.

An authentic expression this is what I aim for.

And you may not like my use of words and vulgarity.

But I do not like your hypocritical hilarity.

Preach love, speak hate, then act like a saint.

At least us vagabonds...


Don't hate.

Time 4:44

'La Loving Logan'

Thursday, February 15, 2018

The Fucking Sadness And A Paradox

No tears. No tears from this gypsy.

I feel sad. Sort of woke up this way, and no idea why really.

Sometimes I think I have created such a habit for such a long time of suppressing my emotions; that I am going through this cycle of experiencing the remnants of past experiences still. They just pop up out of no where and kind of take over.

They take over in the sense that I can't just change to being happy for the day. They take over by way of having no explanation. Just a feeling.

At first I thought it was beer from last night. But I only had 3. But I did catch a pattern of being more beer hungry lately. Sometimes I think I can sense whats coming and the old coping mechanisms kick in for a few days.

Its like being hung over, but not hung over.

I wanted to cry earlier, a couple times. But of course... me no cry.

I come close sometimes. But its like I forgot how. I think I can count on one hand the number of times I have cried in my life.

I started working on my lyricist project and went strait for the sad country instrumental song I found on you tube.

The words "empty", "cry", "no tears" came up and I immediately started thinking about 2 people I hold extremely dear to my heart. Yeah, there is the sweet spot.

I just felt my eyes turn fluid. It's gone now.

The thing is, I never got to say good bye. I stayed angry for a very long time because it just wasn't fucking fair.

Why the fuck, the two people who know me best; the two people who for some goddamn reason could see into my soul, see who I am for who I am. Why the fuck are they taken from me?

I still to this day feel that know one really gets me. Shit, I don't even get myself.

But they did. My grandpa "Smitte". A wise crack always playing jokes on my grandma. She hates snakes by the way.

And Dee. I was her yard boy. I tended her flower gardens and mowed the yard. She made the best sandwiches I have ever tasted.

Im  veering away from my feeling. Reminiscing about how I want to remember them. I don't even remember the goddamn funerals. Sure as hell don't remember what they looked like in the casket, or  if I even did take a gander that way. And why would I want to?

I was angry because they were taken too soon. I was angry because they were gone when I needed them the most. Selfish. So fucking what.

I got over the anger. I balled my fucking eyes out one time in the car. Listening to some song that brought the emotions and memory to the surface. I finally just let myself cry. Said a prayer to forgive myself and let them go.

But I still get sad. I was told the other day that it doesn't get easier. You just learn to deal with it better. And that's starting to make more sense.

My disposition creates chaos. But its a beautiful chaos.

So here I am. A sad day. And I think the only difference is that I am actually doing something to work through it. Its not as crippling as it used to be. The numbness has subsided drastically. I notice that I actually feel emotions beyond the dark fucking blackness of nothing, or just sheer anger.

I take note and don't attach to them like I use to. I don't incessantly over think it to the point that the same fucking thought just gets stuck in a brainless feedback loop, feeding back nothing but confusion and another trip to the beer fridge.

I imagine there are other people that go through the same thing. I even caught myself lying about it today like the old habit I was accustomed to.

When asked how I was doing when I walked into Backstreet Art, I said "good!".

I even said it emphatically, and put a positive inflection at the end of "good" just to sell it a little better. But I was probably only trying to confuse myself. I'm sure people can tell. I don't know if I'm that good at hiding how I feel really.

And then it got too much, or just too many people. I needed to be alone. I confessed that I lied, and said that I was actually feeling sad. Then came here.

I feel better in the sense that I don't have to keep thinking about it. I've noticed that just simply speaking it out loud, telling someone; or in this case splooging it out through typing helps with the process side of it.

I'm still sad, but I feel more concrete in it. Its not empty feeling like it was a few minutes ago.

On my way home I turned a corner and saw the words "you belong here", then the time on my phone simultaneously was 1:11. And the immediate thought was that I belong in this sadness. Its not bad. Its not good. Its real. Its authentic in it's innateness.

And that is the crux of my disposition; I like to think. I strive to be authentic. But this fear of telling my story as it unfolds in real time does nothing but slowly cripple me. Being honest would help with that.

I wonder what would happen if all the humans began telling their truth as it sits on their heart in the present moment? And lets couple that with humans who listen with intent because they want to give a damn. I'll tell you what would happen.

A fucking emotional revolution bridging the gap between every divide spanning back multiple generations of societal and cultural renderings that bite at everyone's psyche.

And this how I see things. A grandiose dream of authenticity. A working progress for me for sure, but I do find lightness in expressing my shit as I personally feel and see it. It's funny how it works.

The emptiness in my gut is gone. I feel slightly invigorated in my chest now. Still sad, but ironically happy in my sadness.

I often struggle with being upfront about these sort of feelings. I usually tell myself that no one wants to hear about how I'm sad. Why would they want that on their plate? They have their own shit to deal with.

But this idea comes back to me, about talking your shit out. A friend said it one time. She was sooo good at just throwing her shit at me. Not that she was actually throwing shit.

She was just good at expressing how she felt about situations throughout her day. And usually, inevitably she would come to her own conclusion and basically work through what ever it was. Maybe I would say one little thing, maybe I wouldn't.

But at the end of her ranting, she would smile and say, "see, thats why you gotta talk your shit out with people".

I don't think it really has anything to do with getting anyone to understand you. At least in my case. Its is more about working through that feeling and speaking it out loud. trusting someone enough to tell them. Trusting myself enough to tell them. And in that simple act of sharing there is an exchange of sorts. Even if no words are said back, I think its having someone with the willingness for just a moment to sit in that emotion with me.

No they might not have any idea what I'm saying. But they are there. And they are present. And they are listening.

And maybe that's all it takes. I mean what do you do when you go see a psychiatrist? He just sits there and listens and you have to pay him for it. Fuck that. Find a stranger to do that with. They would probably have more insight anyway lol. Kidding.

I know psychiatrists come in handy for various reason. But you get what I'm saying.

So to sharing. Sharing your glory. Sharing your shit. Just fucking sharing. Cause sharing is caring.

And at least for me, its sounds like a paradox. To open up my shit and share my darkness; how could that translate to caring. But it does.

It shows that I care about myself enough to at the very least make an attempt. And you know what I think. I think, by default, that opening up about my shit, probably creates a greater sense of caring for others. And there in lies the paradox.

Quite possibly a shift in a paradigm.

So to shifting paradigms. To sharing  more. To caring more.

I fucking love you.

'La Loving Logan'

Monday, February 12, 2018

Vulnerability and Feeding The Orenda

- The quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally.

Once I started on the expression train, there was a change in focus. Or maybe that there was a desire to become more focused with these writings. I said last time I wanted to create something specific. But I don't see that being a part of what ever this is anymore. 

This seems to be more of a way for me to pour out what is inside me so I don't walk around numb to everything else because I can't seem to stop thinking about what is whirling around in my psyche making me feel all crazy. Run on sentence. Nailed it.

A huge part of me wants to know why it works. How it works. But I feel that is just my attempt to stray away from expressing what is really on my mind. 

There is one part to it really. By way of two parts, per-se. But they tie together. 

Action being the main idea. Doing things that show vulnerability. And I'm inclined to think that these things are different for everyone. But its in doing a thing that makes you uncomfortable, but you have always wanted to do it. Or you know doing it makes you feel good.

For instance. I did this side pony tail thing the other day. There is a fight in my head that says "it's too weird", "who does that", "it's unnecessary". But looking at myself in the mirror playing with different styles or ways of doing my hair, and going for this random side pony thing made me feel good. So I did it. 

And surprisingly enough I got some pretty awesome comments on it. 

That's one part. And I'm sure as time goes on there will be more things that I find that play to my androgyny, and meshing together the masculine and feminine aspects of myself.

The other part is verbalization. But I noticed when I was pondering this aspect that the word 'Verbalize' is even an action word. It has the word 'verb' in it. 

Putting the thoughts in my head into action. Expressing them as they are. And this one scares me more than anything. At least yesterdays occurrence did. 

I met a girl. Wanted to ask her out. So I did. That was slightly nerve racking. 

But then, I have developed this sense of wanting/needing to express my intentions so as to be clear from the get go. 

Dear fucking christ. I pushed the thought aside at first. Then it kept popping up in the frontal lobe of my cortex. What ever the hell that means? It was there in full force. I had to say something. 

Before the words came out it was obvious my demeanor had changed. Fuck shit I was nervous as hell. No reason to be nervous. But good lord it might as well have been .... I don't know. I was going back to 7th grade for some reason. I was stumbling, I'll  put it that way. 

As the words came out I didn't know if I was even making sense or not. They seemed to just kind of pop out at random. I worked through expressing what was on my mind as far as tending towards seriousness. 

Even now as I write this it doesn't make sense what I was trying to say. 

But looking back at that moment, I do feel good about the words that transpired. l feel that I did say what I needed to and intentions and ideas were made clear. 

Its not that I want to jump into a relationship as far as society defines relationships. But I do find that attraction towards people sits in different ways within in me. 

Its like meeting someone for the first time and immediately knowing whether or not they will be lifers or passerby-ers, or somewhere in the middle. 

The only thing I know, is that I needed to express my intentions clear. And I did. Pretty sure I did anyway. 

And I feel good about it. It actually went better than anticipated. I actually didn't anticipate anything. I was more wrapped up in how fucking freaked out I was. 

And then me being me. I start thinking about why I was freaked out. Why is it that simply expressing an intention like that, to a person who it happens to be intended for, becomes such a crazy whirlwind of anxiety?

The only thing I could come up with is that I have never done that before. Any relationship I have been in before has been random, intentions unclear. More of a random meeting of 2 people scrapping for something poetic with no idea what that actually means. 

Its also opening up to a stranger. It feels like ripping my chest open and showing them my heart. Here it is. It might get cut. It might get stomped on. But for the sake of expressing myself and coming out of hiding, Here is my heart beat for the world to see.  

One step forward. Taking action on deep seeded desires and intentions. Verbalizing those emotionally triggering thoughts, putting them out into the ether sphere for the Orenda to  manipulate in the most magical way that it always has done and always will do. 

So cheers to making myself uncomfortable. Cheers to not knowing what the hell i'm doing. And cheers to walking the labyrinth of my story and being an "almost" willing participant of what transpires. 

Till something else crazy

"La Loving Logan" 

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Seeeex, Sex Sex Sex

I went to write something last night, and I found myself rambling. Like that's not what I normally do? Right.

I didn't feel anything is what I mean to say. And what I have realized is, that's my focus. I focus on what I'm feeling. And the purpose is to work through what I am feeling. And it has been working pretty great so far, as crazy as it has been for me.

I had an idea to revisit an old writing about when I "lost" my first love. To be more honest about it, I didn't lose her. I broke up with her. Regrettably, though I have gotten over it. I think. Fuck, I don't know.

But last nights writing turned into a long drawn out sentence with no meaning or passion behind it. I didn't feel anything as I wrote.

This makes me think of cycles. The spiral. There are good days and there are bad days, and then there are days in between. Its how it works.

But then I got to thinking that I wanted to create something. I still want to write something even on those days where I feel ok. When there isn't anything plaguing my mind in that momen, I still want to express in some way.

I thought about getting sexy and dirty with it. Like writing a story about some passionate orgy experience or something. But I don't know if I'm cut out for that quite yet. And I'm pretty sure my little sister has access to this blog....Soooo yeah, I think I'll pass on that one for now.

All though, this idea is super intriguing to me, and I just want to know how it would turn out. Yeah, anywhos.

So here I am. Not a bad day, not necessarily a great day, but I feel good and generally happy with where I am right now.

I've noticed that the things I focus on right now are more practical to the nuances of reality itself. Like paying bills, and job opportunities. Have you ever tried to look for a job when you really needed one, and you were going bad shit crazy in the head. Trying having an interview when you can't even focus on the simplest of things. Its awesome!

 There was an idea thrown at me, one that I have had for a while. But I like that it resurfaced by means of someone else. Shaman rituals, Peru. I would looooove it.

Also another idea from the same person, went something like this...

"Maybe this anxiety and your writing is your higher-self nudging you. Talk to the darkness and invite it to converse with you."

Not going to lie, I love the way that sounds.

Now I'm left with how to invite my darkness to converse with me. Some would call it the shadow self. The parts of me that lie outside my perception. The parts I have a hard time accepting. Maybe even parts of me I have grown to dislike.

But what is it? What do I fear? What do I find distasteful in myself?

I have a stigma with sex. I love sex. Most people do, I believe. I know there are some that are asexual and that's beautiful. But that's not me.

I grew up being taught that touching a girl before marriage was sinful. And having sex before marriage was one of the worst things you could do. They actually would force people to get married if they found out they had sex. Even if they didn't have any interest in being married to each other the rest of their life, they had to oblige, or be "churched", praise Jesus. (Churched - to be excommunicated from the congregation on the grounds you are an evil rotten sinner). Er, what!?!? So loving.

I do see the ridiculousness in it now. I know the whole taboo sex thing was a backwards perception that the church created for what ever reason it was, and I have come across a few in my readings through the years.

But what does this mean for me. I mean its pretty apparent that I struggle with literally every aspect of what I was taught growing up. I basically started out my 20's saying fuck it to everything that had to do with religion and purposely diving head first into all the sinful things I was told to stay away from. Guess how well that turned out. Aaaamazeballs!!! Kidding. Sort of. It was a hell of a lot of fun, but dear god I pay the price.

I guess I still don't know about this whole sex thing. I have tried to research on that there google to see if I could find anything that would educate me on what sex actually is. And when I say "what it actually is", I mean more than, the goddamn penis goes into the vagina, or butt hole, whatever your preference is, and it feels great. The end.

Dude, that's literally how my sex education went. Not to blame anyone. I honestly don't see anywhere in society where an in depth sex education is being taught.

I want to know what happens energetically. I want to know what it means spiritually. I want to know what happens in the brain. I want to know why people think its wrong to have more than one partner. I want to know why we have created such a taboo fucking stigma around it, when its quite literally the most natural fucking thing any human being could do. Pun intended.

 Or maybe I'm just over complicating it and its really not that big of a deal. Ok.

I feel attracted to more than one person on a deeper level than superficial. And the way I feel has such a varying dynamic with each person. So what now. Choose just one. Why?

Whats the point? The way I see it, I should be able to explore these varying degrees of sensuality. And it's not because I want to rack a number up to brag about how many people I have slept with.

Been there. Done that. And I don't like that I did. Ha, there is a part of me that I don't look kindly at....oooh interesting.

I find myself to be so dynamic in all the shit I think about and do. I'm eclectic. I find interest in almost everything. And when I meet someone that has a drive or a passion towards something I find passion with, I want to share in that wonder. And yeah, that can be done on a "just friends" basis.

But I'm talking about those moments when you feel this deep seeded spark. You have no idea why, but its there. You see that person and immediately everything about them is beautiful and sexy and goddamn fireworks in the fucking sky, holy shit!! And you don't even know them, but all you want to do is to dive into their world of wonder and get to know them. Are you going to tell me that you would deny coming together intimately after getting to know them in a soulful way?

I know it means something. I know that as you get to know someone personally, the attraction falls deeper into the depths of who you are. And this in some way creates an essence of love.

And maybe I'm just wishfully grasping at a way to explain my fucked up head. But I don't think this is the case.

There is a reason polyamory culture exists. I'm not talking about keeping the various affairs secret from one another.  There is a purity and beauty I see in being so open that all your loves at least know of each other.

I find that to be more vulnerable and enticing than choosing exclusivity to one partner at a time.

I don't know what the point of this is quite yet. I know that expressing it and putting it out there will probably help my brain process better, since I have always kept this belief secret to myself for the most part.

And I think that, right there, is the reason in and of itself. I know it is. To just simply express what I believe in a vulnerable way.

And yeah, I feel fucking vulnerable as hell throwing this out there. But here it is. My mind as I unfold it to you. Shedding yet a little more of the covering.....

Now lets all get fucking naked.

I would love thoughts and beliefs and ideas on this one.

Yeah, ok. That actually felt good. Til next time.

'La Loving Logan'

P.s. Now I have to get ready for work, and all I'm going to be thinking about while talking to the customers is sex....peeeerrfeeeect!

Monday, February 5, 2018

The Gray Monster...Aaaand The Fucking Unicorn!

I woke up this morning, and just like most other mornings everything was gray. A slightly uncanny ether of gloom.

But at the same time I could sense something light. I could feel a brightness coming from somewhere.

I could see the monster. Like maybe he has been hiding under the bed for ever and all the sudden had the urge to come out. But even the monster is too scared to face me. His back turned towards me, he stands blocking all the light from coming in.

I can't see his face. And really, that's all I fucking want. Sometimes I think to myself that all the people around me can probably see exactly what it is that keeps me feeling this way.

Like maybe one day some one will come up to me and say, "yo, there is this demon on your shoulder, and he's holding a sign that says your bad shit crazy". But it's way to subtle for that. I know this.

And all I can really do is keep training myself to focus on whats good with me. Keep learning to practice accepting me, all of me.

The further down the rabbit hole I go, the more colors I see. Like the darkness has been hiding something beautiful.

Earlier this morning I had a thought that I view myself as unworthy.
Hang on, I think I wrote it down...

ooh, so I wrote this upon waking this morning, in a free write sort of style

Gloom-ish. I sense light. But I don't see it. I sense a presence of greatness. But it's finger holds elude me. I peel my skin back and I see nothing worthy. Maybe this is the seed of my antiquity. 
I am worthy. I am the power I feel. I am the light I can't quite see. Take off this cloak that covers my nakedness and the world will light on fire.

Fuuuuck yeah! I like it.

But not seeing anything worthy. That hit me. I am worthy. And maybe part of it is that I don't totally know who I am. I don't see all of me. And here in lies my dilemma. I want to accept every part of me, but I don't know all the parts of me. I feel fragmented.

But maybe I don't need to know.

I don't need to know. Its gotta be a life long endeavor, that's constantly changing and ebbing and flowing through life. Derp duh!

Ha, fuck! Its not about figuring it all out. Holy shit. Yet again, its the same lesson I have already learned before just in a different space.

I'm not going to figure it out. Not till the next moment comes and I figure it out then.

I am who I am now. Eclectic by way of everything I do. Down to the way I think. I pull from so many different forms of contours and processes and progressions and potentials and past shenanigans that I'll lose my train of thought sometimes.

I'm eccentric to the max. And I realize as I write, that this could be a point of contention within myself. I believe my eccentricity was negated at one point in my life. It was condemned as foolish or embarrassing or childish. But its not. Its just me.

It's like tourretts in a way. Though not tourettes. And I just have to make a funny face, and say some random ass shit that makes no sense, but I promise you, it makes so much sense to me. Fuuuuuuuck!!

This is kind of a big deal right now. It makes a lot of sense. It fits in with the idea of concerning myself with what others think of me. It also makes sense when I recollect random moments where I felt a sense of regression, like I was acting like a child. But I think the center point of this conundrum is that I listened to someone else, and believed in their condemnation of a part of me that is innate to my personality.

OOOOOOH Jesus!!! It makes even more sense. It IS my personality. I'm random as hell. Most of the time make no sense to most people, unless you allow me to explain, which sometimes goes on 7 different tangents....but I come back to point 1. Just trust me.

The big gray monster was a false belief. When I peeled back my skin I didn't see anything, because I believed there was nothing to see. But now the colors are starting to sparkle. Like a goddamn unicorn. Fuck the gray monster! Give me a fucking unicorn with some bitchin wings and I'll call him Pegasex, cause my shit is goddamn sexy.

So fucking what if someone finds me embarrassing?

I'm the odd ball. The black sheep. And I fucking love being the black sheep. I got shit to say and faces to make. And if you come close to me, I might just kiss you on your fucking luscious lips, you fucking asshole. Or kiss you on your ass hole you fucking lips....Lets not go there right now.

So yeah. Sighs of relief. Jesus praise be amen!!

It's interesting to see it. Its even more interesting to see how it plays out as I become more courageous in who I am.

I think this aspect of hiding my eccentricity plays into "taking things too seriously" and finding myself "too sensitive" sometimes.

They are like defense mechanisms for keeping my wild eyed craziness hidden.

So here is to undressing my soul. Letting my personality back out to play.

I sense a little bit more light. I feel a tad brighter and I'm starting to enjoy this random writing extravaganza. Just roll with it.

And thus saith the Lord, fuck the world and feed it beans. Amen.

Much graciousness.

Till next time

'La Loving Logan'