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Few things have ever made me feel quite so good, quite so consistently, as getting out my darker thoughts via this blog. I’m a Libra and actually a pretty happy person by nature, but there’s not too many ways to keep seeing the light but to admit to the darkness in a fully self accepting and extraverted way. I will stand by my feelings, good or bad, but I don’t need them to be acknowledged. Albeit writing on the world wide web doesn’t make me exactly invisible, the amount of links to this page that exist in the world as not so many and I have purposefully clued in only the people I thought were worth getting having “get it”, or who it didn’t matter either way for one reason or another.

I’m so pissed at my past right now and the shit I took from people. I’m so annoyed at the fact that I can be such a good friend and make so many random, deep connections with people unlike myself (though we are all human after all) but feel so insecure and unloved, no matter how awesome and unconditional a few people’s (ahem, parents) love for me might be. What the hell. And now I am just beginning to realize that it really wasn’t just me, it really was the stupid immaturity of the world that has kept me down for so long, but more than that my immature wanting to believe in it. To believe there was something wrong with me so that the world I didn’t fit into was all right, and finding peace and love and acceptance and success was just a matter of “self-perfection” aka striking some balance between being me and fitting in  In this of all circumstances, I’ve opted not to go for balance. Radical self-acceptance it is for me. That being said, I forgive everybody and want them to be happy and just accept them as they are, doing the best they ,in good or bad faith.  O mauvaise foi, what a concept. Believing that people didn’t mean to do wrong excuses them, how much of my love and compassion and self-esteem has been wasted on you, sad little interpretation of an idea.  It’s all my fault for taking French and reading Sartre in tenth grade anyway.

I hate to complain about things that are actually good, but being different is such a pain in the ass, like all the time. It’s not that is difficult to be modest, but sometimes it is hard to be patient. Just waiting for people to extend the same love and compassion that you would extend to them. Just waiting for someone to make you feel welcomed and loved. And when it does happen, like it did today in a totally platonic way, it just makes you want to cry and feel almost like homesick and hate on so many people and things that happened long ago. What the hell was wrong with you?

Daring, daring. Everything worthwhile is a feat of courage. But what happens when courage runs out, or rarely produces the desired result? The problem is, courage just begets more courage, because you know what? YOU WILL, and DO, SURVIVE.And no risk seems too great. And people just seem bland and disappointing and cowardly in comparison (not all, but many).   And you can’t stop going for it, can’t stop putting your neck out, can’t stop being a leader when it is called for (not that you want to be, you just want to be f***ing happy is all). [I love how I would totally say fuck in real life, but I don’t like how it looks written, it just seems vulgar and doesn’t sound pretty. Aesthetics, such a moral choice]

Speaking of writing, i love how I’ve just created my own form of stream of consciousness, drop the fourth wall and speak to the reader rhetoric. I don’t always talk or think this way, but knowing you are reading does help me to be clearer, cuz if I just wrote in a journal this would look and sound and have the clarity of horseshit. O how I need you, or at least the hope of you, dear gentle readers.

O, what the hell am I going to do with my life? Do I even care? It’s all going to happen, I guess- is planing just dumb and superfluous and an illusion of stability.

The dean of my b school just dropped so much wisdom on me the other day, and I’m finally in a place where I am appreciated, and it hurts so good to be appreciated, to be happy, to be vulnerable. It just makes me realize how sad and lonely I’ve been for a long time, and as the whole inside begins to disappear, the black hole that no amount of seeing God’s green earth, or pleasures of the flesh, or achievement or praise could fill [I did want to try tossing a little L O V E into it-not the whole thing but just a little part-despite my fears that would be a dumb thing to do, but black holes seem not to attract lasting love, can’t imagine why]

Well now, hasten love, hasten success, hasten everything I asked for and just a little bit more, cuz I have caught just a whiff of you, and I am all moux (smooth, soft, doughy) and vulnerable and have these things I am afraid to lose, these people I will be sad to leave, this situation that is satisfying, finally, and I know it will end. And I will do it all again, go back on the road, back to the drawing board, the journey will recommence. I just want a safe harbor, no matter how much inner liberation i can find. I know when I find the safety within I will find it without, and it took such danger to find it. What a paradox. Quel paradoxe! And now that my crazy is out in the world, in written form, and I still love me and a few people actually follow me, somehow that is everything. Maybe it is immature and shows a lack of spiritual advancedness. Maybe I should write everything down and burn it so as not to be tempted by adulation or pride or acceptance or love or community. Maybe I should just become a monk or nun and thus end my troubles, but that is not my path, and to surrender everything in that way would be to give up. No, I will have to surrender everything even as I strive for it, knowing it is transient as dust, to not be of the world but in it, to have possessions but not become attached, to be owned. That is my spiritual path. And to love the whole world while loving myself and those close to me, it can and will be done.

So I guess this is how it happens, how the dark turns to light and the light reveals the dark. I’m not afraid but so so real and here and vulnerable. I am not beyond in anyway, but I can see past myself. I am ready to lose friends and alienate people no matter how much I love or could love them. This is what e.e. cummings is always talking about, being yourself in a world that tries to keep you as anything but and having the courage to become who you truly are. So I hope as I post this, some of the fear will go away, and with it, some of the pain. Some of the ambition as well, and the deep deep desire for love and understanding. I don’t want to choke on my own desire after all. I try to pray the serenity prayer, and accept the things I cannot change, i try to pray like St.Francis, that I might love instead of being loved, but it is so hard. The black hole runs so deep. And here I am, thinking I am Virginia Woolf in my little 11e studette “room of one’s own,” pride and ego and fear so quick to evaporate in the clear light of day.

My goal isn’t really for enlightenment in this life, or to have a mystical experience that removes me from life’s troubles and joys. My goal is really just to live, to be the only me the world ever has seen or will see, and try to see the worth and beauty in that no matter what. The 21st century spiritual journey, complete with weblog and Facebook documentation. It is amazing how nothing really changes, human nature isn’t altered by any technology, we just have different ways of seeing our shittiness- but that’s not true, at least less people live in physical squalor and threat of violence, although I’m not sure Maslow’s right about that making people more deeply and spiritually inclined.

I will close with, not a prayer, but a thought. That if, upon waking, you feel truly good, you are doing something right.

 

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