Oddities

Mind wanderings... That's how this blog used to be. As I feel more and more exposed a tiny part of me wants to resurrect this blog. I miss just rambling on about nothing feeling like what I wanted to say meant something but knowing I would be overlooked. Perhaps it is the trauma responses lately that make me want to hide in plain sight. This blog was also fully unrelated to any content creation journey and thus free from seemingly having to "update people..." You know what, fuck it. I should rightfully post when and what I want anyway. It's my own damn website.

Shadowlands?

I actually picked up my guitar today. I went over some old songs that I had written about the same time I last posted in here and one that is a bit older. It was kind of bitter sweet from the mood I am in. I highly doubt this will be read by anyone so I might be as straightforward as I can without feeling exposed to random strangers on the net that might see this.
About a year ago I think I came to accept/realize I have depression and anxiety. Somewhere in 2017 I was officially diagnosed. In that time I was exposed to the idea of attachment theory and it all seems kinda fuzzy to me now. I want to look it all up again and see what I can find. It made sense though, it all kinda made sense, and I so desperately wanted a real certified person who knows what they are talking about and has a neutral stance on who I am and who I speak with to have a stab at it all. Before I get more sideways... What made sense was how I keep people away. If you manage to come close, I doubt you can stay there. Mostly, I feel toxic, mostly, I feel vulnerable, mostly... I want to be left alone.
It hurts less to never have my hopes built up. Once you fall from the grace of my hope you stay shut out of my heart for good. You see, flakey people scare me or I am not sure how to best word this, they traumatize me. Sadly, as much as I want to be alone I get easily attached and if you come and go as you please then the less I want to care because every time you leave is a nightmare for my heart even if you are the most faithful person on earth, things change, they always change and unless I have a guarantee then I have nothing to hope for and when you do come around I don't want to leave myself open for that abandonment again.
My father recently passed. I can't say for sure if that is where it all started, his haphazard care for me, mostly if I look back he seemed to be present out of moral obligation. When he moved out, I was 16, he clocked out and guilted me for not constantly knocking on his door.
Time has passed and I still hate constantly knocking on someone's door. I am sure that makes any relationship with ne faulty but absense esp continuted and erratic absence makes me shut down and makes me cut all ties. It leaves very little room for faith or grace. I suppose that is what made what I call God the only thing I had faith in, an omnipresence; it is so easy to tap into the sense of God. Everything that is good, and good is just even if it seems unfair... That seems like a concept that many don't grasp. At some point, I had logical thought trails ti explain. These days it seems best to just accept it for myself. My faith has become isolated where in the past the wisdom (the very limited and flawed wisdom) I felt I had could benefit and bring comfort to anyone of my many companions, people I called friends. I use that term very loosely, I always did. To the general population I would say friend, but in my heart and mind they were someone I invested time in, but kept at a distance, because their actions indicated I should keep them at a distance. The few who transgressed passed that shell I seems to have regret because they are gone.
It used to hurt, I would read a friend is someone who would lay their life down for the sake of another. I feel like a dormat for having "a big heart." My compassion left me open to far too much hurt and abuse. I told a coworker today, I am not a good friend. I will drop you in a second. It seems to be more and more true so much that I barely even make new friends. To be honest thw last real friend I made was a little more than three years ago. That person seems like a stranger now. My greatest friend, if I will be this wreckless with my exposure is a little grey ball of fur with long ears. That makes me sad.

Stories

What is your story? Was someone there to see the joy and laughter? Was someone with you through your pain and hurt? Some say there is an endless energy that witnesses and fabricates all things, a loving essence that binds all things and non-things, so others question why did it not stop the hurts and the pain?

If love is love, if love is good, why does hurt, sickness or death exist? What if good is not happiness but it is, indeed, just and balanced and constant? What if constant is not always easy? What if just is not always relief? What if balance is not always equal?

What if nothing is random and everything is programmed yet life's expirience is unexpected because we are limitated? What if we fight to be happy yet succumb to a lifeless journey? This path is easy, this path keeps me going, this path gets things done, this path is maintained, this path is managable. What if we insist on quality yet are paralyzed by imperfection? This path is wrong, this path is dangerous, this path is confusing, this path is undone.

The solitude of the past maybe to shape the companionship of today, to merge two lives tomorrow. As each cell splits and some die, as one cell becomes an organism, as time passes and entropy takes its course some parts of us stay weak, some grow strong, some parts of us were struck down, some parts were fed and nourished well. Some parts of us get hidden, some parts grow calloused, some keep bleeding, some heal nicely, some mutate, some evolve, some fade away, some overshadow the rest, some sustain the whole system, some grow uncontrollable and poison the rest. This is true of mind, body, and soul. Some is seen, some unseen.

We only stop growing when we expire and we should never give up. Sometimes growing is painful. Sometimes growing is sad. Sometimes growing is possible. Sometimes growing is raw. Sometimes growing is uncontrollable. Sometimes growing is harsh. Sometimes growing is feeling. Sometimes growing is reaching. Sometimes growing is weak. Sometimes growing is rest. Sometimes growing is slow. Sometimes growing is being loved.

We are never perfect and the past is said and done. Sometimes imperfect is beautiful. Sometimes imperfect fits just right. Sometimes imperfect is oh so fine. Sometimes imperfect is what it is. Sometimes imperfect is spontaneous. Sometimes imperfect is scary. Sometimes imperfect is calm. Sometimes imperfect is explosive. Sometimes imperfect is wanted. Sometimes imperfect is accepted. Sometimes imperfect is chosen. Sometimes imperfect is well loved.

Let one learn another's life and nourish their growth as one teaches another through presence and acceptance of imperfection. One is reactive, one is observative. One feels, one calculates. Both decide based on data from inside data from outside. Write a story together, write a story that is honest. Write a story of love, joy, beauty, and peace.

Padeabar

Grow cold
Freeze your overflowing waters
This desert will not accept your flood
Grow dry
Parch the lands as nothing can bloom
Proceed with caution, the cacti are overwhelmed
Grow numb
Frostbite is sweeter than fire
Remember you cannot be in between
Embrace the tundra,
You
Are
Too
Much
Too little, always, extreme
Remain barren, cultivate death, garnish pain for that is your name
Pain, death, barren

The world prays against you, none want to be your prey
Victimize your overbearing suffocation and cease for eternity
Be no more, retreat, find solitude for the solace of nature
Love cannot breathe in you
Tenderness is smothered by you
Gentleness is crippled near you
Exhile yourself, away, away
Leave them be, leave them be, leave them be

I Missed Out

Dear So and So,

While my soul is in a coma the world around me continues. Most of the time all I can do is breathe. Sometimes I am lucky and I eat. Sometimes I am lucky and I sleep. Sometimes I remember what it was like to live and not just survive. The reality of the difference crushes me.

          I am the worst friend to have. Selfishly digging for scraps of food and ungrateful for that food which I do get. I never call, I never text, because I lay here wondering how long I have left to force myself to breathe again. There are flashes of hope; that one person who cares and loves me, but when they are living I have nothing to sponge off from them.

          Their face changes. Once they pass it is the silence again. The dark ceiling that presses into your psyche and all you want is sleep and freedom from the endless stream of memories. I used to be fully human, fully living. Yet here I am and I am left to the effort of filling and emptying my lungs again and continue the passing of time, and continue the use of energy that makes my body need more fuel.

          Please stop. Please stop needing fuel. Please stop consuming and giving nothing in return. Please stop being a vegetable. I wanted a living will. Is this not the same as life support? Please pull the plug. I fade away because all I do is take. I know this because you never need me, much less want me. I am so very sorry.

Love,
Needy Little Zombie