Dreams vs Reality. 

Standard

It’s is possible that dreams overlap reality? As I drove my car a dream took over all the senses and it was like I was living the dream while I drove but it was my “reality” I know I’m awake… right? I mean as I type this I’m in “my reality” and it was here that my dream overlapped. It’s not the first time it’s happened i just never knew how to explain it till now. It’s not dejavú – it’s not that it happened before, but a man was in my dream was a truck in my reality, a stop sign a door… it overlapped I knew what both were there was definite distinction between the two. 

I have a theory/viewpoint on how this “reality” is. It’s close to Mayans and Shamans and how we live in a dream. Everything that happens happenes within, everything I experience is because of the perception that it’s exists – but just like a dream it’s “not real ” but it is at the same time. Like non-duality. Something can’t exist without the other but nothing exists at the same time. I believe in string theory too where everything is connected in energy. If I move my arm I pull on someone else string across the universe. I have that much of an affect. But in another plane it’s not real, but it is. 

So anyway as my dreams overlap with reality I find myself having trouble understanding life… what is the point? As I view space we are so minute yet here we are worried about our hair or what clothes we wear. We are so bound by our own gravity we can’t look up to see the stars. 

Advertisements

There use to be…

Standard

A time in my life where I would listen to this music over and over and over hopin it would stir something in me, courage maybe to get my cowardly self up and kill my self. I hated bein me, I hated having to wake up, feel the way I did atoneing for my actions daily. I hated my life in a way that was so simple it made sense to end it all. What was this purpose? My presence is only hurting things, the planet, life. Another mouth to feed, another person to take care of, another tax payer living to pay bills. As I put the gun to my head I just didn’t understand what was keeping us all here why do we have this “survival” gene encoded in us. What makes us fear? Why do we fear?  All I knew was that I needed to go. Not to a far away place where my troubles resided still but to another place of another time, of another field, another dimension.  

I had my pick of any gun I wanted- i just separated from my husband (he kicked me out of he house) I was living with my friends ex bf who was a gun collector – most fully loaded some illegal, sitting in this room I choose three. She and he both knew I had been baker acted twice once for suicide, yet they still put me in this room to live till the house we were going to live in was finished remodeling but I had no choice because I had no where else to go… the last time I went home to my family was the first suicide attempt. 

So it’s around midnight thumb on the trigger for a long while safety off ready, waiting, I thought “I have nothing to live for, what’s the point? I have nothing, I’ve done nothing,” and I felt worthless… Then it was like a light bulb came on with two things… One; I’d feel awful if they had to clean my blood stains off the wall and two; that’s my purpose; TO MAKE all those questions mean something and my stubbornness kicked in and I thought I’ll make my life worthwhile, I’ll make my life memorable, I’ll make it a point to live. I rebelled against myself. It wasn’t until later I found my way but it was a stepping stone and a promise, I was by no means “better” or happier, it didn’t make me feel any better but I put it down with intention, not cowardness. I put it down knowing the journey ahead could mean more than just paying bills, more than just getting by

But as I write this here now I see that the last 3 years so much has gotten in my way. And I allowed it. I could give it all up, move away. Never to return. But where’s the life responsibility? How do you tell your brain damaged mother I’m never coming back? Who’s life is in a bad situation… how can I let her life be bad why I try to make mine? So I continue on this path of guilt. 

Being pulled from reality pt 2

Standard

Falling into the abyss. Darkness over takes me pulling the breath from my lips and sucking my lungs dry. Around me life is being drained from the living to give to the dead so they rise again. A cycle of unforgiving light. 

I fall with my back toward whatever direction I’m going – am I falling up? Everything seems to be getting smaller – but if I’m falling down maybe I’m looking up? It’s all dark anyways. Light dots and darkness dots begin to penetrate my eyes. I can only feel my body – falling falling into a never ending cycle. Never reaching terminal velosity. It just keeps on pulling me sucking the breath out of me, yet I still can breath – or am I? Have I died already? I feel my body, but the darkness is to dark to see if I’m actually still in it. 

Infinite darkness in each and every infinite piece of gathering darkness. But in that darkness light also exists. Between each dark spot there is a source of light. I need to fall into one of those. Smaller than an atom I have to fit or I perish. Would it matter if I did? So I turn towards what’s pulling me. A light. I see it. I dive. Straighten my legs and arms close into my body – but if there’s light why can’t I see my body? Never mind that, I need to focus. What does this light bring me? Why is it pulling me? I’ll fight to survive. 

I never get any closer but I’m still heading towards the light. Why do I not feel the sit being pushed around me? How do I know that I’m falling? 

The Surviving Battery. 

Standard

I search, I search beyond myself to find what it is I need. Under  the stars, over this hill. It goes on and on. Soon exhaustion takes over me, and I loose control. I need to be fulfilled. So I fight, I kill for food. I steal when I need water. I am human. I pillage for my own life without regard for yours. I reap the soil and suck out it’s life to create my own life. I fight for my own survival. They say it’s survival of the fittest, right? 

But what my inner spirit needs, the whole to my very existence, the battery to my body needs I repress. I am human. I hunger for love. I thirst for desire. Instead of finding life within, I take life from the outside. Of course my body needs maintenance but what kind of maintenance is good to a car that has no battery? It can’t even be started. It’s as though we are all batteries wondering why our cars won’t start. We are looking down in our hood at an empty space where we would, could fit but we are looking for outer sources to try to hook up and while something may work it doesn’t quite fit appropriately, or doesn’t lay very long. 

So we take things that we think fills our life’s. We kill and steal for substantial feelings. When all we need to do it ask. Everything is provided. Everything. 

Yet, our fear hinders our ability to see. Our “desires” of “the hunt” keeps driving us, this minimially efficient battery. But love, true love, our spirit/soul, that’s the true battery to life.  

Disassociation 

Standard

Where you know it’s happening but you’re watching. When you feel your body but can’t control it. Where you understand but don’t act. Numb. Fights inward. Fights outward. Life. Acceptance? Grief, GUILT. What is it? 

Words can’t describe, because words don’t experience. If I place my hands, just there you’ll understand. But you can’t, you don’t accept. 

I give, give, give… to nothing. What do I give? My life, my energy. Does it matter? It only is matter. Matter and their workings. Energy. I put my energy into you. Then what? Push back, flaming death back into my face. But from under it comes. From myself. Was it I who pushed? Did I give to receive this? 

Words, distraught. Words, misunderstood. Words, painful words. They mean nothing. 

But if I place my hands just there, maybe you can understand. I repeat this why? Because you’ll never understand. Never. You will not understand because you are not me, you don’t need to understand, so why speak? Silence, just, patience, time; tried and true 

Fight, fight again, with me with you. Feel the push. Feel. The. Push. When I place my hands just there. It’s true. My hands, they don’t lie. My hands can’t lie, they can’t speak. Truth is hidden, it’s hidden from above, below, under, in, out, around. Forever truth rings in a song. Music so beautifully, painfully, emotional. The music of us. 

Disassociation of life. Reality? Truth? What is it? 

Misunderstandings 

Standard

I don’t understand why I get into these moods. I clam shut and if someone were to say something I’d blow up on them or want to hurt myself. It’s like I hate living. But really what is motivation? Motivation to live or to die? You can be motivated to die… it’s super easy though, and humans like to complicate things. I could die..

It’s like my views and perceptions get completely turned upside down. Maybe because I can understand and accept so many others points of view that I have no idea what is my own… but really, my own isn’t worth anything but another’s opinion. If your opinion doesn’t matter then why should mine? 

I feel so helpless, no one can help me because everything anyone says I understand and accept but I don’t allow it to seep inside me. I don’t allow it to penetrate. Like in self defense, I use their words against them… I know how to turn things around, I know how to make nonsense make sense. 

I just don’t understand the point of life when all there is is death, destruction and chaos. Yes there’s love, but not the pure true love. No one can honestly say “I love you unconditionally,” then there’s the: “except if you cheat… then I won’t love you anymore” okay there’s a condiontion. Or “I’ll love you unconditionally, except if you don’t answer me for weeks” there’s a condition. Unconditional love does not exist on this plane, only through this plane. It can’t survive in our minds, because our minds can’t perceive it. So what happens when you do perceive it, -like a near death experience – then come back to reality? Then what? Oh right there’s me… I didn’t have a near death experience, however I was there I felt it, and now again, I’m stuck here on this plane in hell. In this body, in this life. The point is mute. 

Religion is powerful 

Standard

So the question before.. if I knew I lived forever would that make me happy? If you’ve ever seen the Vulgar, yet seemingly true ‘movie,  sausage party the answer is no. In fact,  was the thought of dying after this life should make me live it out more. Who cares what I do because I’m dying anyways. Who cares what happens because I’m dying anyways. But what you and I are impacting is life itself. A push and pull of energy. A life force beyond “us” we are in essence all else that exists. An exsistance of nothing of everything.