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Reflect Out Loud

"The unexamined life is not worth living." – Socrates

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life

Text

How is it that one text can transform the entire trajectory of your timeline?

We were supposed to eat dinner together.

But now I’m alone.

The nagging feeling in my system couldn’t let it go.

Maybe I’m crazy.

But this is the choice of my gamble.

I was willing to bet – blind.

Maybe it’s a mistake.

Maybe it’s just what is needed.

C’est la vie.

Hello, it’s me…

I feel like I’ve been MIA on here for a while.

And right now there is so much I want to tell you.

Where do I start?

So many images flooding through my mind.

I’m trying to figure it out. As usual.

Life’s a fucking trip, man.

My biggest concern is that I am aging. My youth is slipping. Every day. And I want to set myself up for success.

Success according to my standards.
Meaning I feel good and look good and have abundance in my life. Abundance in all areas. For as long as I possibly can.

We can’t always control the outside, but we can always control the inside.

I want to feel connected, inspired, aligned more often.

Which means I need to let go of my limiting, negative internal dialogue.
Breathe. Be present. Stay calm. Trust.

I welcome more gratitude.
More trust. More faith. More confidence.

I am trying to decide what path I am going to be taking in my career. I also need more discipline.

I know I want to do all these great things, and I’ve already started… But I also know where I need to make adjustments.

This isn’t even really what I want to tell you… but these are the thoughts coming up right now.

I just briefly want to touch on my average IQ.

I’m nothing great. I’m nothing beyond standard. Average intellect.

Can someone like me – average, really produce something genius? Something new? Something that hasn’t already been done before.

I mean… I just had a thought in my head right now but I don’t want to go into it right now because it’s too intense to type and I don’t feel like getting intense.

Anyway…

What more can I tell you?

Oh. I’ve been learning to give less fucks.

I mean I still give plenty of fucks but a little less now.

It’s been helping greatly.

Whereas before I felt overly responsible for people’s feelings, now I feel less so.
Whereas before I felt overly concerned about certain outcomes, now I feel less so.

What a relief!

Still a work in progress.

I want to get to the point where I am literally able to just actually say what’s on my mind regardless of scenario. Like fuck you, I’m not going to pretend because you can’t manage your own goddam feelings — and you shouldn’t have to pretend for me either.

That’s how we get a bunch of fake people and create fake interactions based on false presentation.

Fuck that,

I’m vulgar sometimes.

I’m sorry. But not sorry.

Sometimes I am ashamed of my background. Growing up in low class has me picking up certain behaviors, speech patterns, thought processes. And has given me a certain experience of life compared to those in higher class, affluent communities.

I wish I was more educated. Or that I had paid attention in school. I didn’t know better.

But I wouldn’t want to be all proper and not know my hood shit. I actually love both. I love both sides of the coin. I love intelligent conversation, big words, tall postures, class, poise, elegance, luxury.

I also love me some late night grungy nights in a dirty NYC basement where I’m thrashing my head back and fourth screaming “YEAH, DJ SPIN THAT SHIT.”

Best of both worlds.

I also love to explore other cultures.

I can’t wait to travel.

See the world. Learn new things.

“Things.” I hate that I use the word “things” to describe experiences I want because I lack a more descriptive word. There goes that IQ issue I’ve been talking about. My two little brain cells just scrambling in there trying to come up with the right words.

Anyway.

Enough of my  bullshit.

Kudos to you if you survived until the end of this reflection.

Good-bye, it’s me.

Granted Time To Waste

I have been lucky enough to have been granted a lot of time to do whatever I want with.

And I’ve chosen to waste it. To simply sit here and think. Enjoy the sun on my skin. Drink coffee. Cry. Journal. Read a book. Think some more. Repeat.

I’ve picked up my guitar again.

Life is this funny thing.

You’re born, you do a buch of shit, and then you die.

My mind gets blocked sometimes. I want to raise my vibe. And give less fucks about things that don’t matter. Give my energy over to the things that do matter.

My health. My comfort. My bredht and depth of experiences.

I don’t have all the answers. But I think I don’t need them.

I Don’t Know

The truth is that I don’t know.

Everywhere I look there is someone claiming knowledge.

But what do I know? Abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

There is so much information. And my barely average intellect can’t even begin to comprehend.

And it leaves me frustrated.

To survive in this world I have to submit myself to work. To provide some sort of service in exchange for credits (a.k.a money, a.k.a physical representation of energy exchange) that I can then use as leverage to obtain other goods and services.

I’m over it. I really don’t fucking care. Why do I have to participate?

I hope the atheists are right – that when you die nothing happens. Because FUCK having to do more stuff after all the stuff I’ve already done.

I don’t want to deal with reincarnation and all other kinds of bullshit. I don’t want to fucking participate in this charade of existence.

It’s nonsense and I don’t care.

Or maybe I do care.

I don’t know.

I just get into these spaces sometimes. These spaces where I really just don’t give a fuck. And then there’s this part of me that feels bad for confessing this because some of you will judge me saying “How could you say such a thing? Life is precious. Don’t be selfish. Don’t think like this. Don’t be negative.”

FUCK THE FUCK OFF.

Let me have my thoughts — you go ahead and have yours.

No. I don’t always think like this. But sometimes I do. And I don’t think it’s bad that I do. I actually at times really do think that not existing is better than existing.

If I didn’t exist I wouldn’t even have to think about whether or not existence or non-existence is better – I WOULDN’T EXIST SO IT WOULDN’T FUCKING MATTER — isn’t that blissful?!

I think it’s fucking blissful.

All this bullshit about good, bad, ugly, beautiful, existence, non-existence, is all a matter of discussion for those who exist and have some kind of a brain to ponder and reflect upon existence. But honestly, I could do without it. And I don’t care if that sounds negative to you.

I mean… suppose there really is some grand fucking purpose to life and it’s some beautiful ass fucking shit… cool? Then what? I don’t get it.

I enjoy the black screen. Those nights when I’m asleep and it feels as If I don’t even exist. I don’t see a need to come back to this bullshit and do things and talk to people and play fucking pretend.

There’s a part of me who feels she needs to apologize for saying the above. But not because I really feel bad for saying it, but because I feel bad for being judged for saying it.

These are my thoughts, though. And why should I hide them?

I don’t really know what the point of this post is. Which I guess brings it all back full circle.

I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know what the point of all this is. I’m just going along with the system I was born into and trying to do the best with the limited knowledge that I have.

I have a lot to be grateful for. Things could have been much worse for me than they are. Things also could have been much better too, on the other hand. But either way I am who I am and I’m doing my best with what I have.

Some days are better than others. Some days it even feels like it all makes sense.

But other days, I just don’t give a fuck.

But honestly, I just don’t know.

I’m having doubts about sharing this – which is something that never really happens since Reflect Out Loud has always been about me sharing my raw thoughts in a more tangible format.

But I’m gonna share it anyway.

Fuck it.

YOLO, I guess…

I don’t know.

Philosophy

We are here.

There is something rather than nothing.

It appears that reality is embedded with a force called Time that causes all things to move.

It also appears that reality is embedded with a formula to figure itself out.

This begs the question of free will.

Am I behaving freely, do I have a choice, or am I simply acting out the functions embedded into the blue print of existence?

Is the ability to choose simply an illusion? Do I think I am choosing because I have been enabled with the ability to “think” and have mistaken this ability for choice? Am I simply unfolding through time as I have been programmed to do?

But beyond that… when I observe the world and its complexities it’s “realness” seems almost absurd to doubt. It seems like there really is a real world. That the stories we’ve learned in our science textbooks must hold true. There must have been a Big Bang. This must be a product of some explosion and evolutionary process. I must be here because I evolved from another species.

Right?

Regardless of the story we buy into, what seems to remain unexplained is the question of why truly is there existence rather than nonexistance?

Why is it that things are rather than are not?

The fact that there IS something rather than NOT trips me out.

Holy shit, I exist. What the fuck!?

I am here rather than not here.

Does that mean something? Or does it mean nothing?

Yeah, I’m here and so is everyone and everything else – big woop. (Hope you hear the sarcasm in this statement).

 

I just don’t get it. What’s the point?

If this means nothing who the hell cares. I sure don’t. Or maybe if I knew it really didn’t matter and I only had this life to live perhaps I would enjoy it more. Because I’d know that I’m only given one opportunity to exist, and since I do exist why not make the best of it?

It would be relieving to know that I didn’t have to live a certain way or do a certain thing or get to a certain place because in the end it doesn’t matter – so why fuss? Why get so caught up in a negative story? Nobody matters. Nothing matters. So fuck me and fuck you.

Fuck what you think. Fuck your bullshit. Your theories. Your science. It doesn’t matter: I don’t matter and you don’t matter and in the end nothing matters.

So have fun. Enjoy the one life that was granted by coincidence, by odd chance, by luck.

 

But I don’t know that that’s the fucking truth. I don’t know the why. I only have ideas. Theories. Guesses. Stories.

I am always left guessing. Wondering. Searching.

At times the search becomes exhausting. And I hate that I care so much. That it’s somehow embedded in my DNA to obsess about life, my place in it and the meaning of all this.

 

Whatever.

Movement

Everything is moving. Always.

I’ve arrived at this interesting realization that no matter what I do or don’t do there is a greater force operating on me that wouldn’t allow me (even if I wanted) to just be still. To not have to move forward with time.

It appears that life goes on no matter what.

It doesn’t matter what I do or don’t do because life will go on.

Of course it matters in the sense that depending on what I do or don’t do the quality of my experience will vary. Like if I choose to sell all my posessions and go live on the beach as a bum or if I choose to work a corporate job in New York City the quality of my experiences will surely be different. But removing this aspect of quality aside, what I’ve noticed is that even if choose to do nothing – meaning, I sit in a corner and I simply allow time to make choices for me then I will enevitably keep moving.

The best way for me to describe this is comparing it to the game of Sims. Have you ever played it?

Well. In the game, if you don’t actively make choices for your sims they will go on auto pilot doing their own actions. You must actively take control and direct their actions to control them. Sometimes my Sim might want to cook but I think it should go learn the piano instead. So I must actively cancel out their choice and direct them towards the piano. If I don’t actively make them do what I want they’ll just auto pilot their way through time.

In some ways I feel like reality is like this. I am here. I exist. I notice there is a force acting on me that keeps moving me forward even if I don’t want to. I have choice. Or at least I think I do. (But this is also a subject to further discuss later). Through choice I can have some control over the quality of my experiences.

But the point that I’m really making is that it doesn’t fucking matter what I ultimately do because it appears that reality is embedded with a formula that figures itself out.

In other words, even if I don’t know what to do in this moment, it doesn’t matter because the formula of time is going to figure it out for me. Time is going to push me forward whether I know what to do next or not. There is something operating within reality that is already deciding what’s going to be next even if I don’t know what’s next.

How much influence and power do I really have over my future? Over my destiny?

What the fuck is destiny anyway?

I can tell you what I want.

I want to feel good about myself. I want to own a home by the beach. I want to have a million dollars in my bank account. I want to be in love with you and have you be in love with me. I want to travel the world. I want there to be peace within me and in the world for those who choose it.

Is it going to happen? I don’t fucking know. But I want it to. I want to do my part in making it happen. But it’s not all me.

Also… getting to that moment is a journey. And it’s a silly ass fucking journey. Because you do alllllll this shit to get there only to have it all slip away.

We work so hard to build treasures and in the end we just die. In the end it all fades. And nothing lasts forever. Time takes it all away.

What bullshit.

So I guess the real way to live is not as so to acquire but perhaps to simply experience. Perhaps to simply enjoy the temporary ride.

 

Wack.

 

Okay. I’m being cynical.

But it’s kind of annoying to build it all to lose it all. Don’t you think?

Climbing

What a dance its been to find balance. To manage being okay with where I am compared to where I want to be.

I don’t want to miss the journey in an attempt to get somewhere in the future. 

I’ve been looking back at how much of life I’ve already missed in wanting to escape to some future moment. All the fun I could have had if only I wasn’t trying to wish my way out of the present moment.

I went to a bonfire at the beach last night. While in conversation it was said to me, “Be happy where you are.” 

That is the secret. To be happy now while we journey, while we climb.

*image credit to google images

Preferences

Some moments are better than others.

I prefer when we’re driving in the car on a sunny day blasting our favorite music on our way to an adventure.

But it’s in the mundane moments when I’m forced to entertain tasks that I rather not be doing that I find true appreciation for my favored moments.

It’s through the cold that I find appreciation for the warmth. 
It’s through the dark night that I find appreciation for the day light. 

The secret is in being okay with what is. To stop longing for more than what is. 

Sure, I rather not have to stand in a long line at the supermarket at a moment when my bladder is full and my stomach is empty making me feel crabby. 

Sure, I rather not have to sit in a dentist chair, mouth wide open while sharp metal objects poke at my teeth. 

Sure, I rather not have to read 50 pages of a boring chapter in an overpriced textbook the professor chose to assign. 

Sure, I rather not have to clean the tomato sauce I accidentally spilled all over the floor also shattering the mason jar it was held in into pieces.

These unsavory moments are also part of life. 

Fighting them, wanting to escape, only adds to the uneasy feeling of yearning to be in those moments where it feels like  “Ahhhh. Yes. This is it.”

But this is life. And it is both up, down, dark, light, exciting, mundane, and everything in between. 
 
 

Moments

There are moments in life that are more favorable than others.

Moments where I slowly open my eyes and unravel to my own rhythm. No rush to be anywhere. Do anything in particular.

There are those moments where I’m laughing. I’m with you. Life feels expansive. Filled with possibilities. The sun hugs my skin. I’m warmed. I can stay here forever. Mesmerized by the wide spread view of the ocean. I stare at it; you stare at me.

There are those moments when I smell the bold morning coffee brewing from my tiny kitchen. My bed is perfectly made. Everything’s in order. The living room is pierced by natural day light casting shadows of the small plant that happily sits in the corner.

My breath is calm. My thoughts are clear. Gratitude pulsates through my body.

Time elapses.

I’m energized. I’m pumped. Dubstep is playing through my headphones. Feet are moving. Body sweating. I’m happy. Excited. Feeling unstoppable.

And then there are those moments.

Those fucking moments…

Waiting for ticket 876 at the DMV to be called when the last number was 531 while looking down at my phone anxiously longing for a text message that never appears.

Sigh.

And how lucky is it that this period of limbo also happens to coincide with forgetting my wallet in the lyft so when 837 is finally called I’m left scrambling through my purse for a phantom.

Heart sinks. Stomach churns. The room grows dim. Anger runs through my veins sending irrational signals to my body that it needs to destroy something.

My hippie, positive self-soothing talk chimes in reminding me to calm the fuck down and keep it together.

So I call the lyft driver for the damn wallet. “I’ll be there in 40 minutes.”
40 minutes turns into two hours and twenty three minutes.

I’m hungry. I’m pissed.

But I’ve got the wallet, the text, and number 1032.

 

 

 

 

 

*image credit to @Peaceful_barb as noted in image

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