confusion

I am lost,
and find myself looking around the living room like a bewildered John Travolta in the movie Pulp Fiction.

I find myself disillusioned. I’ve asked too many questions and sought too many answers and now I know too much.

They are right, ignorance is bliss.

Humans have created a world where access to basic safety is financialized. Shelter, food, healthcare, rest, community: all monetized. And when you make noise about it people fight for this system. They fight for the rat race.

Where to from here? Still, anything is possible.

I don’t want to be in my ego.
I don’t want to play pretend.
I don’t want to lie and sell you something that isn’t true.
I don’t want to act. I don’t want to smile just to appease you.
I don’t want to gloss over reality. I don’t want to gloss over the truth.

But what about the magic? The fantasy? The childlike wonder that has always been a part of my soul? What happens to that part of me?

Balance.
Balance.
Balance.

Both the miracles and the mundane can co-exist.

This world how it is is exhausting.
We have made it about money and power over genuine care and sustainable growth.

I think it is because we are immature. We are still developing. I don’t know what it will take for a greater mass awakening to occur. I don’t know if it will ever happen either. Anything goes. Anything is possible from here.

I still carry hope.
I still carry hope.

As for me, personally, where do I go from here?

I don’t know.
My disillusionment has taken me to a place where it’s hard to trust my innocent impulses. I used to believe that when you jumped a net would appear. That the “Universe will catch me.” That if I just “went for it” that things would magically come together. That I am called to something great if I just trust and go for it, it will be revealed.

But that has not been my experience. I jumped and no net appeared. Instead, I fell deep in a whole with long term bruises I am still in recovery from. I took the step. I followed my heart and intuition. And it led me to a dead end street. It led me to confusion. To bewildered in a living room in Texas state wondering what was it all for?

I recently find myself looking at cost of living in London. Thinking perhaps I will go there and get into fashion.
Alternatively, I found myself fantasizing about living on the road writing my philosophy and ponderings. Capturing videos of the moments that move me and writing my sentiments about them.
Alternatively, I move back to where I’ve been. Focus on making money like the rest of us just to pay rent. Just to eat food. Just to do the same basic thing we are cornered into doing because of the way this world is currently set up for us to exist in.

Alternatively, I move in with my mom. Save more money and work on my visions from there.

Alternatively, I stay in Texas. Find a home here and figure out life from here.

Ugh, even the statement “figure out life” makes me want to puke a little. This feeling of having to figure out life is exhausting.

Alternatively, I make jewelry. Alternatively, I’ll go to portugal. No– to Bali and take a yoga course. Alternatively, I take a yoga course in California instead. No… I will go to Italy. No. Shave my head and become a monk. No. I don’t know.

I am lost.

I want to be a dream.
I want to morph.
I want to be light.
I want to make love to you,
and to seduce you.
Then walk away –
and run wildly back into your arms
because my absence never fazed you.

I want to be beautiful like the models on TV.
Not just this average beauty. This “We’re all beautiful in our own way” kind of beauty.
But truly stunning. You can’t get your eyes off stunning.

I want to be beautiful on the inside too – because that’ll make me even more beautiful.
Inside and out. Not just one or the other – both. Not just average but whatever comes right before perfect if perfect isn’t an option.

Then I want to be alone. Alone to love myself. Alone to be perfect – whatever that means to me because what it means to me is always enough when I don’t need you; when I don’t want you.

But then I want to see you. You who is almost perfect. And I want to love you. And then I want to leave you because your imperfection bothers me. Because I want to feel superior – and actually be superior. Not just in theory. Not some narcissism. In truth and in every way better and more perfect than you.

Then I want to cry and feel sorry for myself. Sorry and guilty for ever wanting to be better. And for actually being better.

Then I will humble myself. I will be imperfect. You will have all the right to shine, even brighter than I. You will have right to be anything you desire because you deserve a chance if the game is to be fair and foolproof. This will be the way to prove that I am not necessary. To prove that I am creation and that perfection is irrespective of me even though it is me — it is you. This is the way it’s been all along.

Everything will be fair. Balanced. And it’ll be utterly boring to the wise. Utterly predictable. All it will mean is that everything is possible. And what’s the fun in that? You will know all the answers and pretend not to know. And for what end? Just to live out stories. Stories after stories. And so it will be. I’ll live my story. You live yours. We live ours. And so on ad infinitum.

Then I want to find – I don’t even know what I’d like to find after all that.
It’s never enough because the story never ends. The end is the continuous search because there’s always more. There are no limits. There’s always more. There’s always more. There’s always more.

What satisfies me is to forget. Forget all of it. Forget the stories. Forget you. Forget me. Forget life. Forget all realms.
The black screen forever. Pure nothing. Finally I can rest. This is my favorite place to be. At rest. Not in some point in time telling stories after stories. Not living story after story. But Here. Beyond the Silence. In the Eternal. In the nothing. As nothing. For nothing. Through nothing.

Because only when I am nothing I do not want. Only when I am nothing I am truly perfect.

In being nothing there is nothing I could ever fall short of. There is nothing to miss- nothing to lack – nothing to need – nothing to want.
To not exist is better than to exist.
Because in non-existence there is no such thing as better. Nothing wrong. Nothing right. Literally nothing.

Nothing.

Mmmm. Perfect.

But I cannot convince you of this. It would just be another story. My position versus your position and vice versa as it always is in this dimension of reality. You must come to know it yourself – through yourself, for yourself.

Meet me in the nothing. I’ll be waiting for you. Let’s be together as none again.

And when we are done, if ever, we can always come out and play again. After all, even though I hate your never ending stories, I love you enough to listen.

“See” you there.

Tag

confusion

Lost

Want Not to Want