2003-07-12 - 11:56 p.m.

let go of everything that isn't and

listen for everything that is.

is

in the center.

is

in the place that is enough.

you've seen me through my phases. my compulsive filling-ups with the "them's"; the him's and occasional her.

i'm wondering how much of this distraction, keeps me completely distracted?

from what?

from me. from silence.

from someone who would be real and challenge ME to stay when it's ugly and i'm terrified again.

all of the candy coated caos keeps me in a fine sugar buzz of life inebriation, away, suddley away, from the quiet, calm, soft and sweetest part of life.

am i ready for that?

in the midst of the swing?

in the fun of playing boys two at a time at the same party. balancing both at arms length where it's all so safe.

what if i were to feel terribly bare?

naked.

it would feel like waiting.

like i would be waiting for something to happen. someone to happen.

i like evenings lined up and attention deficeit dating. i like that no ones gets me. that i'm rendered inaccesable.

and i was bitingly jealous of a friend tonight who has found someone worthy of union.

someone that has everything that i think i want and is also ready for that whole let's merge thing and all i feel i'd ever be able to offer is a ball of insanity and strategic walls of embattled hurt and the tenderest heart behind thickets of thorny, unscaleable bushes.

so i date silly young boys.

and i think i might challenge myself, spiritually, let's say, to let go of everything that isn't, to see what, deep under the surface really is.

when all falls silent, what words rise.

but not just with men, but to clarify all area's of life and get brutally honest with myself about my bliss and courageously let go of all other ego driven pipe dreams.

i want butterflys. a field of light, epervescent see-through blue and bright fushia that bleeds your eyes, and a shimmery gold speckled orange that saturates you like a sponge, soaking you in. filling up with you. and a true royal blue, and a blissful, dark midnight blue that runs forever, an abyss. and a sterling, fierce white. i want to run through the field and feel the fluttering of each wing dancing, lifting up past my skin. feeling with the palm of my feet the earth's tender warmpth of a drenched sun laboring rays on its body. i want to collapse in the field of blasting green, pricking like thousands of spines, politly reminding me of what catches my fall. tumble down to cry and let go of it all.

to fold into myself and the butterflys are gone and the absense of exhistance is a silence so loud and beautiful that my heart, my every nerve vibrates like a wordly sigh or a climax and i loose everything of me. i am now each gritty-in-the-teeth muddy layer of earth. i'm it all at once. merged completely.

i had mad visions today of breaking eggs and glass on a large white canvass in my dream studio, wide and open, airy and white. breaking one after another. and then paint.

i'm really upset partygirl has left. u just get used to someone. curious about where they will go.

i've been reading the liars club and it's terribly familial. al beit, she had it worse(the author), if we all took a vote. but it reminds me of what one does in the effort for survival. what limbs tweek and mold to fit the world that is asking for it to fucking break off.

at the end of the day, i really don't know what the fuck i'm doing on what we call, this earth. is it tho? are we?

who are we?

are we in our own minds?

then who are you to me?

with the luxury of food and shelter and bubbli soda, i can analyze and have a broken heart and suffer to the great misgivings of the mind.

are you?

suffering?

are you liberated?

are you free from the mind.

hey man and i'm not even stoned. just a little sick.

i'm sorry i haven't been writing. i've been swimming in life. everything has been really good, except when i get into the fucking comparison game.

i think i've found what "is" for me.

i've found that which i'm 'supposed' to do on this "earth", for this brief stay to either keep me distracted from some terrible inevitable, unbearable knowledge,

or to 'better' the world with this gift i would unleash on you.

hehe.

but i've been running in a field of butterflys over feeling that i finally know what is for me. after all of this time and trying jobs on and maintaining too many maybe's, i've found a bliss that makes me feel completely home.

now the theatre work made me feel home in a challenging, interesting way. but with it as a career comes so much comparison, the sickness of my mind robbing me of my light inside. and it brings up too much degredation and impossibility and self questioning and self composition. my ego would like for me to stay involved. to use my beauty that i'm convinced is barely left with my floundering youth and "make it happen".

but then there's this other career, the 'is' for me. and it's settled on the soft inner form of me. but maybe i'm drawn to it out of ease. becuz it's fit so well, that it has come easy...so far. soon i'll know just how easy or not. i'm vaguely refering to another artistic form.

lizard and i skateboarded today. damn that is the new hotty magnet!! look at me pineing to fill up so quickly again. it's become a terrible influx. to the point the other night at a hip art opening in venice, that this guy and i played the same game so well on eachother. it was like a well oiled machine. light glances, eye fucking, then the approach. flirtation, seal the deal with the digits and then be off to tail others. he respected the fluidity of the game. maybe expecting offension, but met with my appreciation as i smoothed into another conversation with boy b, to seal a second deal.

the transaction realized me into seeing the very machine of it. the sinking sensation that it is just a drug to satiate, sometimes for a week and sometimes only for a moment. that it means nothing. and in realizing this so clearly, i'd be desolate inside to continue.

like a deserted road in the middle of the country that has nothing but the wistle of blank wind hitting on nothing in its path.

alone inside, in the fury of swarming people. the tastes of newly lit skin. the curiousity of another's smell and tact. and just how will they move into me? i jones for that curiousity. for those heightened senses.

intoxication.

inebriation.

so i saw my body make these advances, close these deals of new open possibilities. and youth is known by it's possibilites. if there was a fountain to keep us fresh, we would drink possibilities. a sip of hope. a gulp of fantasies of what might happen or the suspence of not knowing, but in the unfolding.

i now want to let go of it.

i want to sit in silence even if its the most painful place of all.

i want to know what is.