A Story of a Night and Its Transcendence
It was a random evening. From start to finish it was quite odd for me. I am a sensitive type. I know this. So I take into account for all the subtleties I feel. But usually, If Im feeling too many things at once, I tend to retreat into myself. This is when I go hibernate.
First off, why the fuck is it still legal in some places to smoke your goddamn cigarettes inside?? This should have been my first clue; that out of all the places around town my buddy and his coworkers chose to go to, it was this gross fucking place they called a bar. And none of them even smoke cigarettes!!! WTF!
I'm new to town, so I had no idea what I was getting into. But I could look passed it. I was there to have a good time, share a couple drinks and then bounce and go make music with my buddy.
That never happened. Not only was I suffocating from the half dead old man sucking down the rest of his life away blowing smoke in my face, but also I regrettably decided to eat a bite of food...the food matched the stale fucking burnt nicotine infested air around me. I new as I ate it, it would not settle well. But I wasn't going to be eating anytime soon and so I scarfed her down, scarfed her down real good. Kind of.
Any way, I met one co-worker and shes was cool. I like this chick. Feisty, cool with talking shit, but can also have a pleasant conversation about normal things. This does not inlcude small talk. I'm not a fan of small talk. It doesn't make sense to me to banter about non essential nuances unless you are talking shit in the process.
We played pool, waited a while. I was already on beer number two, which is my limit, and the others still hadn't shown up.
Finally two others came. And they were cool too. I enjoyed their company. A married couple who had just moved from Cali like myself, and they, in a surprising way reminded me of my old roommates from Cali. At this point I go for beer 3. First mistake.
I even remember thinking to myself that I wanted to leave. That I was done. But I figured since my buddy was hanging with co-workers and we were all having a pleasant time, what was the harm in staying a little while longer.
I remember a few comments at the beginning of the night that went along the lines of, "yeah, I'm not looking to get turnt tonight". Makes sense. But it seemed that the flow was turning towards that way. Talk of Ubers and crashing on couches. A couple shots went down. Not me, no way. Shots hurt me.
There was an agreement to leave after this last beer. But for some reason by the time I finished my 3rd, there was still a full beer in front of my bro. I figured a light shitty beer would do fine while I waited for completion....of the beers.
Then mofo shows up. Before he ever showed there were grumblings of his presence. I wasn't quite catching it all, so I couldn't put my finger on what the real issue was. I find that I generally seek the good in people. Not to say I trust people, but I think I do naturally, because deep down that is how I want it to be. But that being said. You basically get one strike depending on what type of person you present yourself to be.
Mofo was soft spoken at first. The first co-worker I met started playing some sort of musical chair game and made mofo sit next to another co-worker that had showed up a few minutes before. The grumblings, I could sense them.
Then the deep light hearten argument happened. I don't exactly remember how it started. Oh, yes I do. Mofo orders some disgusting looking nacho shit thing for "everyone" to share. Mind you, I already had my fill of this filth. And there was no way in hell I was going to eat this nacho crap. Something about me being a picky eater came from mofo, so I said its not that i'm picky, i'm just not into shit food.
"Oh, you must not be military"
"What the hell does military have to do with it?" haha...oh lord.
Then something about how he was a Marine and cool cool. And I chimed in that I tried to get in 3 different times and they never let me for one reason or the other. Some how this led to mofo making an attempt to impart wisdom on us all.
"You got to have a formidable enemy to challenge you"
I said, "No, I think you just need a good friend to do that and keep you in check"
He didn't necessarily agree, and then somehow it came up that some people need combat, that we need war.
Aright!!! I'm not one to get into conversations like this...oh wait. YES, I am!!
So I respond with a confident, "No we fucking don't! We haven't had the need for this kind of war since WWI and WWII. Every war after that was a propagated agenda steered by the rich fuckers and their moneyed interests in oil"!!
"No, but what would you do if a guy like Hitler was around?"
"That was 60 to 70 years ago, we aren't talking about then, we are talking about now"
Basically he just wanted to justify his "need" for combat and shooting a mother fucker, to which point I just agreed with him and said I see where hes coming from. Which is half true. But I also see that hes got serious issues and needs to work on his shit instead of looking for excuses to buy into this idea of war and combat.
I even told him, haha, I just remembered this. I said if if he really felt like participating in combat and shooting a mother fucker, I would totally play some paintball with him. He didn't like that idea. He was a Marine and He was about war....all cause I didn't want to eat shit food lol.
Finally everyone decides to leave. At this point everyone has been invited to the studio to do music, which is cool. It's not what I was expecting, but its my buddy's studio and if he feels like inviting other people, that's his prerogative. I can go along with it. Just roll with it and see what happens. I got to the studio first. I waas a little buzzed, so I took a hit of my one hitter. It set me just right as it usually does. Just one toke is all I need. I had already gone over my limit in beer by two beers, and talking this toke brought me even.
Then it happened. Mofo and buddy show up and first thing I notice is; one, mofo who had hitched a ride with buddy had stopped to pick up a handle of Jack, just some more shit liquor. I think I'm starting to realize I'm a taste bud snob...or maybe its just that I have class...oops.
Two, along with the liquor, mofo wanted a ride just 5 mins up the road to pick up some weed. "Ok, well here, just take a few hits of this" as I handed him my one hitter. He didn't want it. This caused me to think he was wanting to pick stuff up for everyone and bring it back right away to share with the group.
Me being me, I obliged. Then some kind of backass comment about, just following his lead or something. Ok, yeah cool. What ever lets just go and get back so we can do this.
Then as soon as we arrived to his house it turned into the scenario, you know, where someone wants a favor and then at the next step they reveal a little bit more of their plan?? Yeah! you fucking kidding me. He says, "you wanna come inside?"
"uh, you're just grabbing weed right? your comin right back".
"Oh no, come in I got a joint for you" he responds.
"Sure, I'll take a free joint especially after this little errand. I swear to god, he comes down and hands me a jar and some papers and says somehting about rolling. "What!?? No, I don't want to roll a joint. Lets just go"
"Oh, you denying my offer?"
OOOOH haha, ok mother fucker. Playing games.
I played it off like I just hadn't rolled a joint in forever and me trying to roll right now is no bueno. Really I just wanted to go.
Then he decides to stand around and smoke this entire joint. At this point, no I don't deny the weed. Fuck up number three. Beer three and four being fuck up one and two. I got too high. Too high for my comfort. Too high to be driving really. To high to think. Goddamn it!! I was done. Joint not finished I said I was done. I stuck the joint he had made "for the road" into my wallet and took it as collateral for being played.
I told him he needed to tell me where to turn and what not. I seriously had no idea where I was at at this point. Too fucking high. We made it back and everyone already knew what had happened. Asking me if I was ok and shit.
Oh by the way, Mofo wanted me to keep the weed on the down low. Oooh sure, yaaa, like nobody knows we've been gone for thirty fucking minutes.
So what do I say to everyone else as they are asking me if i'm ok, giving me condolences saying they wish they could have saved me sooner. "Well, its cool, i'm back now and I got high out of the deal so yay". Not so much.
I got in the booth and nothing came. I couldn't think. I couldn't not think. Spit something out and sing. All that comes to mind is how pissed I am at mofo, or maybe that wars are a waste of energy and what not. I second guessed myself. I doubted myself. I wanted to sing something. I wanted to flow with words but none came. I stayed silent. High, stuck in my mind.
Then the evening turned into something odd and not totally enjoyable. I felt this expectation to be able to play guitar and make stuff up to sing too. I mean I play a little, but I don't just make stuff up on the fly, especially in the state that I was in. The guitar wouldn't tune. I was high as shit. It felt like the women were trying to make me feel better about myself. Wasn't helping. Mofo was being loud and obnoxious by this point. Buddy was out of the room not making music answering to Mofos beckoning obnoxiousness.
I was done. Again the thought and feeling came that I wanted to leave. But I didn't say anything. I should pay more attention to the subtleties of my own. But it worked out, the woman felt what I felt and decided it was time to call it quits. 11:00 already. Time to go home and be away from people.
I'm saying by, and Mofo makes a point to hush-hush tell me to call him. Yea sure man, right. "You leavin?" he asked with this anticipating look. I knew right then he was thinking about that joint in my wallet.
"Yeah, I'm going home." I said it so stern and in such a peeved way staring right into his eyes, that he kind of cocked his head back with a 'what the fuck is this cat's deal' look about him. I got the feeling that he thought he had me hooked. That he could probably use me and play me some more for what ever the fuck his agenda was.
But I've been there. Too many times. I've been fucked over because of my innocence. Been taken to school because of my desire to see good in people; that at this point, if you show one sign of being even remotely dishonest in an intentional or unintentional way, I have absolutely no interest in getting to know you or even being around you for the sake of other people.
I wasn't angry at my buddy or Mofo even. I was angry at myself. I was angry that I let myself get played. I was angry that I crossed my limit twice, first with beer, then with weed. I was sad and embarrassed that I couldn't come up with anything to sing or spit out in a rhythm and rhyme.
And I think that's the one that made me most upset. I feel so drawn to music, and expressing through my voice. Yet I have no idea where to begin. I enjoy writing, and maybe coming up with something through trial and error, but to be able to just spit something out is hard for me. I think I need to feel comfortable, but I thrive on not feeling comfortable, yet I want comfort-ability all the same. Oh wow, that's a conundrum.
The first co-worker I met, the cool one, had spit out some baaaad ass deal while I was on my joy ride with mofo. I heard it when I got back and oh my god, if I could have been able to keep listening and playing with that, it might have turned into a not half bad evening.
....
I just caught myself daydreaming on a tangent of that night, when I was in the booth...not saying anything. I should have just said what was on my mind.
(Maybe it would have gone something like this.)
[Buddy had put on the song that me and him started working on] , no where near suitable for what was really on my mind. Atmospheric, ecclectic shit doesn't exactly evoke anger.
"Uh, yeah, what!! Shit, turn something angry on, give me a beat yo..."
[Rapped out...
Tavern 74 what the fuck is that place.
Old man half dead blowin smoke in my face.
Shoot pool, knockin balls, wheres the gay orgy.
I need to fuck off all this shit from this place of disgrace.
We all get to the studio and what goes down.
A mother fuckin joy ride with Derel
I was played like a fool, to get green for everybody
But next I know were wastin time smokin shit joint away from the crew, I'm pissed at this piont...]
Of course I'm sure Mofo would have been a taken back, but fuck, that shit would have felt good. Why didn't I say shit?
Because I wanted to avoid conflict?
Why did I want to avoid conflict?
I was scared of hurting someones feelings. I didn't want to piss anyone off.
But deep down I kinda do!!
This is interesting. I think this right now, and I realize how freeing it would have been to just start saying fucking shit. Saying how I really feel, saying what came to my mind whether it made any sense or not.
Yo Derel, this ones for you. I pay omage to the man I see. Dude I try to recreate what I spit inside my head but once I start writing it out the flow stops.
This is interesting. I think I need to work with this. How do I find enough comfort-ability in myself to just say whats on my mind. I always second guess it. I feel like know one really wants to hear my shit. But maybe its that I'm not accepting hearing my own shit. That is why I stay locked inside my head.
So if I begin a practice of just speaking, not necessarily my mind, but my feels, then that will create a nuance of concreteness. A comfort level in myself. And it is authenticity.
Its not about speaking my mind. My mind is crazy and wrong half the time if influenced by emotions as far as reacting is concerned. But if I speak my emotions through the rendering of my mind. Then that is trueness. That is authentic self. Hiding my feelings is nonsense. Yet this is what I do.
Someone told me the other day that, they were told that I was the most chill person they every met. That I hardly get excited about anything. The response on que was "that's sad, its like depression."
Holy shit! I know she didn't mean anything by it. But whats troubling is she's right. I know I battle with something, and maybe depression is the right word for it. But being very even keel is how I like to refer to it. And no, I don't really get excited about much, unless it is something to get angry about. There aren't many riffs of joy and bliss and excitement. Just monotony mostly. But it has been getting better. The more I dive into this ocean of being that I am, I begin to see opportunities for accepting myself as I am. But even before that, its noticing and becoming aware of who I am. Its been suppressed for so long. And I when I say 'long' I mean my entire life. I was never afforded the opportunity to explore who I am as a child.
It was the church's religious way, and any other way was a sin against God. I mean I was actually taught that what ever my heart felt was a sin. I was taught to ignore the beat of my heart and follow the 'truth', what ever the fuck that is. My mental capacities as they relate to what God's holy word said, as long as it matched up with how they interpreted it, was truth.
Its not just a game of knowing who I am and expressing it. Its a game of undoing the 20 years of suppression, and angst, and denying my true heart felt desires and meanderings. The nuances that make me who I am.
As I unlearn what I was taught, I then have to create my own teachings and learn a whole other way of being. Individuation I guess, as Carl Jung would put it.
Say what my heart feels, not what my mind thinks.
This lends me power. It make my heart feel more full. The second guessing comes from a place of not accepting myself. The projection of which is that others won't accept me for what I say. Butt fuck em. It doesn't matter if they accept me. What matters is that I accept me and stand for my own.
And thus the cycle keeps turning. Its not that I feel bad about that evening. I knew there was something to be gleaned form it, given the state of how I felt and subtleties of energies looming around.
And I feel confident in this finding.
I do think too much sometimes. Thinking is good. But when it gets in the way, and starts deconstructing how I feel, and neglecting to get it out of me, it starts to burn holes inside myself.
It even carried over into the next day at work. Morning shift, I felt so off. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to see people. It was a struggle the entire shift. Even caught myself feeling like I wanted to cry a few times, for no apparent reason, just felt like crying would have made me feel good.
But it was nice to hear both managers telling me that I did a fabulous job that day. And they both were thanking me for taking things seriously and what not. So that was awesome. And I totally feel better now.
This writing stuff really does help me. I always like to have things I can work with. And speaking my heart is a really good thing for me right now.
Watch what I think, let it pass. Speak what I feel, let it pass.
Thoughts come and go. Feelings come and go.
Thoughts are sparks of light. Feelings are souls recognition of depth.
Thoughts are uncontrollable. Feelings are controllable in how they are expressed.
Thoughts let me see everything. Feelings let me know how to express and find wholeness.
Cool. Love it.
Yours Truly in the most sincere and authentic way as I know.
'La Loving Logan'
First off, why the fuck is it still legal in some places to smoke your goddamn cigarettes inside?? This should have been my first clue; that out of all the places around town my buddy and his coworkers chose to go to, it was this gross fucking place they called a bar. And none of them even smoke cigarettes!!! WTF!
I'm new to town, so I had no idea what I was getting into. But I could look passed it. I was there to have a good time, share a couple drinks and then bounce and go make music with my buddy.
That never happened. Not only was I suffocating from the half dead old man sucking down the rest of his life away blowing smoke in my face, but also I regrettably decided to eat a bite of food...the food matched the stale fucking burnt nicotine infested air around me. I new as I ate it, it would not settle well. But I wasn't going to be eating anytime soon and so I scarfed her down, scarfed her down real good. Kind of.
Any way, I met one co-worker and shes was cool. I like this chick. Feisty, cool with talking shit, but can also have a pleasant conversation about normal things. This does not inlcude small talk. I'm not a fan of small talk. It doesn't make sense to me to banter about non essential nuances unless you are talking shit in the process.
We played pool, waited a while. I was already on beer number two, which is my limit, and the others still hadn't shown up.
Finally two others came. And they were cool too. I enjoyed their company. A married couple who had just moved from Cali like myself, and they, in a surprising way reminded me of my old roommates from Cali. At this point I go for beer 3. First mistake.
I even remember thinking to myself that I wanted to leave. That I was done. But I figured since my buddy was hanging with co-workers and we were all having a pleasant time, what was the harm in staying a little while longer.
I remember a few comments at the beginning of the night that went along the lines of, "yeah, I'm not looking to get turnt tonight". Makes sense. But it seemed that the flow was turning towards that way. Talk of Ubers and crashing on couches. A couple shots went down. Not me, no way. Shots hurt me.
There was an agreement to leave after this last beer. But for some reason by the time I finished my 3rd, there was still a full beer in front of my bro. I figured a light shitty beer would do fine while I waited for completion....of the beers.
Then mofo shows up. Before he ever showed there were grumblings of his presence. I wasn't quite catching it all, so I couldn't put my finger on what the real issue was. I find that I generally seek the good in people. Not to say I trust people, but I think I do naturally, because deep down that is how I want it to be. But that being said. You basically get one strike depending on what type of person you present yourself to be.
Mofo was soft spoken at first. The first co-worker I met started playing some sort of musical chair game and made mofo sit next to another co-worker that had showed up a few minutes before. The grumblings, I could sense them.
Then the deep light hearten argument happened. I don't exactly remember how it started. Oh, yes I do. Mofo orders some disgusting looking nacho shit thing for "everyone" to share. Mind you, I already had my fill of this filth. And there was no way in hell I was going to eat this nacho crap. Something about me being a picky eater came from mofo, so I said its not that i'm picky, i'm just not into shit food.
"Oh, you must not be military"
"What the hell does military have to do with it?" haha...oh lord.
Then something about how he was a Marine and cool cool. And I chimed in that I tried to get in 3 different times and they never let me for one reason or the other. Some how this led to mofo making an attempt to impart wisdom on us all.
"You got to have a formidable enemy to challenge you"
I said, "No, I think you just need a good friend to do that and keep you in check"
He didn't necessarily agree, and then somehow it came up that some people need combat, that we need war.
Aright!!! I'm not one to get into conversations like this...oh wait. YES, I am!!
So I respond with a confident, "No we fucking don't! We haven't had the need for this kind of war since WWI and WWII. Every war after that was a propagated agenda steered by the rich fuckers and their moneyed interests in oil"!!
"No, but what would you do if a guy like Hitler was around?"
"That was 60 to 70 years ago, we aren't talking about then, we are talking about now"
Basically he just wanted to justify his "need" for combat and shooting a mother fucker, to which point I just agreed with him and said I see where hes coming from. Which is half true. But I also see that hes got serious issues and needs to work on his shit instead of looking for excuses to buy into this idea of war and combat.
I even told him, haha, I just remembered this. I said if if he really felt like participating in combat and shooting a mother fucker, I would totally play some paintball with him. He didn't like that idea. He was a Marine and He was about war....all cause I didn't want to eat shit food lol.
Finally everyone decides to leave. At this point everyone has been invited to the studio to do music, which is cool. It's not what I was expecting, but its my buddy's studio and if he feels like inviting other people, that's his prerogative. I can go along with it. Just roll with it and see what happens. I got to the studio first. I waas a little buzzed, so I took a hit of my one hitter. It set me just right as it usually does. Just one toke is all I need. I had already gone over my limit in beer by two beers, and talking this toke brought me even.
Then it happened. Mofo and buddy show up and first thing I notice is; one, mofo who had hitched a ride with buddy had stopped to pick up a handle of Jack, just some more shit liquor. I think I'm starting to realize I'm a taste bud snob...or maybe its just that I have class...oops.
Two, along with the liquor, mofo wanted a ride just 5 mins up the road to pick up some weed. "Ok, well here, just take a few hits of this" as I handed him my one hitter. He didn't want it. This caused me to think he was wanting to pick stuff up for everyone and bring it back right away to share with the group.
Me being me, I obliged. Then some kind of backass comment about, just following his lead or something. Ok, yeah cool. What ever lets just go and get back so we can do this.
Then as soon as we arrived to his house it turned into the scenario, you know, where someone wants a favor and then at the next step they reveal a little bit more of their plan?? Yeah! you fucking kidding me. He says, "you wanna come inside?"
"uh, you're just grabbing weed right? your comin right back".
"Oh no, come in I got a joint for you" he responds.
"Sure, I'll take a free joint especially after this little errand. I swear to god, he comes down and hands me a jar and some papers and says somehting about rolling. "What!?? No, I don't want to roll a joint. Lets just go"
"Oh, you denying my offer?"
OOOOH haha, ok mother fucker. Playing games.
I played it off like I just hadn't rolled a joint in forever and me trying to roll right now is no bueno. Really I just wanted to go.
Then he decides to stand around and smoke this entire joint. At this point, no I don't deny the weed. Fuck up number three. Beer three and four being fuck up one and two. I got too high. Too high for my comfort. Too high to be driving really. To high to think. Goddamn it!! I was done. Joint not finished I said I was done. I stuck the joint he had made "for the road" into my wallet and took it as collateral for being played.
I told him he needed to tell me where to turn and what not. I seriously had no idea where I was at at this point. Too fucking high. We made it back and everyone already knew what had happened. Asking me if I was ok and shit.
Oh by the way, Mofo wanted me to keep the weed on the down low. Oooh sure, yaaa, like nobody knows we've been gone for thirty fucking minutes.
So what do I say to everyone else as they are asking me if i'm ok, giving me condolences saying they wish they could have saved me sooner. "Well, its cool, i'm back now and I got high out of the deal so yay". Not so much.
I got in the booth and nothing came. I couldn't think. I couldn't not think. Spit something out and sing. All that comes to mind is how pissed I am at mofo, or maybe that wars are a waste of energy and what not. I second guessed myself. I doubted myself. I wanted to sing something. I wanted to flow with words but none came. I stayed silent. High, stuck in my mind.
Then the evening turned into something odd and not totally enjoyable. I felt this expectation to be able to play guitar and make stuff up to sing too. I mean I play a little, but I don't just make stuff up on the fly, especially in the state that I was in. The guitar wouldn't tune. I was high as shit. It felt like the women were trying to make me feel better about myself. Wasn't helping. Mofo was being loud and obnoxious by this point. Buddy was out of the room not making music answering to Mofos beckoning obnoxiousness.
I was done. Again the thought and feeling came that I wanted to leave. But I didn't say anything. I should pay more attention to the subtleties of my own. But it worked out, the woman felt what I felt and decided it was time to call it quits. 11:00 already. Time to go home and be away from people.
I'm saying by, and Mofo makes a point to hush-hush tell me to call him. Yea sure man, right. "You leavin?" he asked with this anticipating look. I knew right then he was thinking about that joint in my wallet.
"Yeah, I'm going home." I said it so stern and in such a peeved way staring right into his eyes, that he kind of cocked his head back with a 'what the fuck is this cat's deal' look about him. I got the feeling that he thought he had me hooked. That he could probably use me and play me some more for what ever the fuck his agenda was.
But I've been there. Too many times. I've been fucked over because of my innocence. Been taken to school because of my desire to see good in people; that at this point, if you show one sign of being even remotely dishonest in an intentional or unintentional way, I have absolutely no interest in getting to know you or even being around you for the sake of other people.
I wasn't angry at my buddy or Mofo even. I was angry at myself. I was angry that I let myself get played. I was angry that I crossed my limit twice, first with beer, then with weed. I was sad and embarrassed that I couldn't come up with anything to sing or spit out in a rhythm and rhyme.
And I think that's the one that made me most upset. I feel so drawn to music, and expressing through my voice. Yet I have no idea where to begin. I enjoy writing, and maybe coming up with something through trial and error, but to be able to just spit something out is hard for me. I think I need to feel comfortable, but I thrive on not feeling comfortable, yet I want comfort-ability all the same. Oh wow, that's a conundrum.
The first co-worker I met, the cool one, had spit out some baaaad ass deal while I was on my joy ride with mofo. I heard it when I got back and oh my god, if I could have been able to keep listening and playing with that, it might have turned into a not half bad evening.
....
I just caught myself daydreaming on a tangent of that night, when I was in the booth...not saying anything. I should have just said what was on my mind.
(Maybe it would have gone something like this.)
[Buddy had put on the song that me and him started working on] , no where near suitable for what was really on my mind. Atmospheric, ecclectic shit doesn't exactly evoke anger.
"Uh, yeah, what!! Shit, turn something angry on, give me a beat yo..."
[Rapped out...
Tavern 74 what the fuck is that place.
Old man half dead blowin smoke in my face.
Shoot pool, knockin balls, wheres the gay orgy.
I need to fuck off all this shit from this place of disgrace.
We all get to the studio and what goes down.
A mother fuckin joy ride with Derel
I was played like a fool, to get green for everybody
But next I know were wastin time smokin shit joint away from the crew, I'm pissed at this piont...]
Of course I'm sure Mofo would have been a taken back, but fuck, that shit would have felt good. Why didn't I say shit?
Because I wanted to avoid conflict?
Why did I want to avoid conflict?
I was scared of hurting someones feelings. I didn't want to piss anyone off.
But deep down I kinda do!!
This is interesting. I think this right now, and I realize how freeing it would have been to just start saying fucking shit. Saying how I really feel, saying what came to my mind whether it made any sense or not.
Yo Derel, this ones for you. I pay omage to the man I see. Dude I try to recreate what I spit inside my head but once I start writing it out the flow stops.
This is interesting. I think I need to work with this. How do I find enough comfort-ability in myself to just say whats on my mind. I always second guess it. I feel like know one really wants to hear my shit. But maybe its that I'm not accepting hearing my own shit. That is why I stay locked inside my head.
So if I begin a practice of just speaking, not necessarily my mind, but my feels, then that will create a nuance of concreteness. A comfort level in myself. And it is authenticity.
Its not about speaking my mind. My mind is crazy and wrong half the time if influenced by emotions as far as reacting is concerned. But if I speak my emotions through the rendering of my mind. Then that is trueness. That is authentic self. Hiding my feelings is nonsense. Yet this is what I do.
Someone told me the other day that, they were told that I was the most chill person they every met. That I hardly get excited about anything. The response on que was "that's sad, its like depression."
Holy shit! I know she didn't mean anything by it. But whats troubling is she's right. I know I battle with something, and maybe depression is the right word for it. But being very even keel is how I like to refer to it. And no, I don't really get excited about much, unless it is something to get angry about. There aren't many riffs of joy and bliss and excitement. Just monotony mostly. But it has been getting better. The more I dive into this ocean of being that I am, I begin to see opportunities for accepting myself as I am. But even before that, its noticing and becoming aware of who I am. Its been suppressed for so long. And I when I say 'long' I mean my entire life. I was never afforded the opportunity to explore who I am as a child.
It was the church's religious way, and any other way was a sin against God. I mean I was actually taught that what ever my heart felt was a sin. I was taught to ignore the beat of my heart and follow the 'truth', what ever the fuck that is. My mental capacities as they relate to what God's holy word said, as long as it matched up with how they interpreted it, was truth.
Its not just a game of knowing who I am and expressing it. Its a game of undoing the 20 years of suppression, and angst, and denying my true heart felt desires and meanderings. The nuances that make me who I am.
As I unlearn what I was taught, I then have to create my own teachings and learn a whole other way of being. Individuation I guess, as Carl Jung would put it.
Say what my heart feels, not what my mind thinks.
This lends me power. It make my heart feel more full. The second guessing comes from a place of not accepting myself. The projection of which is that others won't accept me for what I say. Butt fuck em. It doesn't matter if they accept me. What matters is that I accept me and stand for my own.
And thus the cycle keeps turning. Its not that I feel bad about that evening. I knew there was something to be gleaned form it, given the state of how I felt and subtleties of energies looming around.
And I feel confident in this finding.
I do think too much sometimes. Thinking is good. But when it gets in the way, and starts deconstructing how I feel, and neglecting to get it out of me, it starts to burn holes inside myself.
It even carried over into the next day at work. Morning shift, I felt so off. I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to see people. It was a struggle the entire shift. Even caught myself feeling like I wanted to cry a few times, for no apparent reason, just felt like crying would have made me feel good.
But it was nice to hear both managers telling me that I did a fabulous job that day. And they both were thanking me for taking things seriously and what not. So that was awesome. And I totally feel better now.
This writing stuff really does help me. I always like to have things I can work with. And speaking my heart is a really good thing for me right now.
Watch what I think, let it pass. Speak what I feel, let it pass.
Thoughts come and go. Feelings come and go.
Thoughts are sparks of light. Feelings are souls recognition of depth.
Thoughts are uncontrollable. Feelings are controllable in how they are expressed.
Thoughts let me see everything. Feelings let me know how to express and find wholeness.
Cool. Love it.
Yours Truly in the most sincere and authentic way as I know.
'La Loving Logan'
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