Thoughts Illusions and Patterns of A Bohemian Gypsy

It hit me. The feeling of losing a friend I guess. Strait up. I got a text. And she said, "adios".  The most troubling part for me is, I have done this to a friend before.  This is where karma comes into play. Experiencing both sides of a situation.  I had no idea what I was doing. And I don't regret cutting ties, I just don't like how I went about doing it. But I never realized what kind of hurt I had caused till last night. And my friend saying she can't communicate with me anymore is only half of it. I know I can't assume responsibility for what happened. But when I was the one that connected 2 friends and then one friend gets threatened because the other friend keeps inviting certain people into her life; I feel a bit responsible for it.  I feel bad. Its like a pit in my stomach. I don't like that it happened. I can't control it. I know it's not my fault, but there is still that nagging sense that it was me who broug

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 d

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 ... fuck. 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

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

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 lyrici

- 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

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

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 acceptin

Ribbon shreds from a heart float through the sphere of ether. Pretty bow ties a knot around a shred dripping with blood. Does anyone  ever stop to question the madness? That's probably a bad idea anyway.  Its a love hate relationship. I hate that I love it. Love that I hate it. And while the cycles may be vicious and unforgiving, I still find a beauty in the maddening chaos.  I don't think it is supposed to stop. Maybe it will get to the point that these moments become more smooth and artfully transitioned through. But It will always be there. A dark day, a bright night and the howl at the moon echos a homely vibration. I've blazed a trail with my sins that I'll have to atone for. Marks on my back tell a story of who I was before. Before I realized the broken pieces of hearts that I was finding, Were the shattered pieces of my own heart I'm so crazy, I should be crying. But the only crying I do, happens on the inside. Like black magi

There is a process that occurs where I find peace with what ever seems to be steam rolling me over. Like an uncontrollable fire that is fueled by emotional detachment and cognitive nuances to understand it. To which, the cognitive nuances never come to understanding the emotional aspect, but they give way how to go about expressing them. I find myself opening up more. Opening up, by way of being shattered to a million pieces of what I used to be. Dying to what I have held onto for so long as a way of coping with the demons that drink in my madness. The screams echo off the abandon walls of a time that has come and gone. And I'm left standing there naked for no one to see but myself. But the darkness blinds me to who I am. The light stays dim. Not  because there is no fuel for the flame. Not because there is no reason to let it ignite into a whirlwind of beautiful chaos. But because I intentionally dim it myself. Blow it out before it becomes to revealing. And this is the insa

I was feeling crazy earlier. It made for random funny moments in the kitchen earlier. Whale sounds and monkey noises. Poetry of gods. The anxiety was intense. I knew I would have to drink some beer to bring me down.  I get so lost in my head sometimes. But its not really my head, its just the way I feel about things. That's why it's so difficult to express sometimes. Because, that is not something I know how to do. Express my feelings.  It's apparent in this blog thing. I tell a story of something that happened to try and express how I feel and it comes out either feeling really good, or just down right, random as hell with no settling of emotions.  Sometimes I wonder if I would be labeled or categorized as sitting outside the conventional "norms" of the spectrum. These thoughts wander through my mind. I'm 95% inclined to believe it. It kinda makes sense.  I also have seen thoughts of , for lack of a better word, well...maybe I should find a

So, I thought today would be better. Buuuut, its kinda a little worse off. I have never had anxiety as bad as I had it last night at work. It's all a bit ridiculous it seems. Or maybe it is that I just want it to be easier. I wait tables. And whats really ridiculous is that I don't like talking to most people. I have to be very comfortable to be able to have an enjoyable conversation with someone. And even at that, I need to be able to relax and have more than 5 mins of interaction to converse with someone. Eh, god! It carried over into today. I'm getting the sense that I'm not connecting with customers in a way that the boss man wants me to. Mostly I just don't understand it. I feel dread right now about going in tomorrow evening. A job shouldn't feel like that. They said, "find that one thing that you can connect with your guests about". But what the fuck does that actually mean? What if I don't have any thing to connect with them on? W