Being pulled from reality pt 2

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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. 

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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.  

Religion is powerful 

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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.

Not there

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It’s always always always when you need someone the most they’re unavailable to help you. Even if they are laying right beside you. The heart ache of trying to be there for someone and not fully being there when they need you or when you need them – but really who really needs them anyways? What’s the fucking point of all this when there really is nothing? 

The turtle and the golden yolk almost got me. Time is relative yes? So in another universe a blind turtle lives in the sea and there’s a golden yolk for an ox. And every 100,000 years the blind turtle surfaces. If his head pokes through the golden yolk – a human is born. Well Reality Il y speaking yes that’s a long time for the turtle but not for us. Because humans are being born all over the place. No one is special or unique because guess what? We all bleed red and we all die. I kind of feel like I’m not going to get that “ah ha” moment because im the ultimate. The ultimate thinker. The ultimatum- death. 

You see, everything will eventually in this deminsion parrish into nothing. Our “spirit” lives on to what? Nothingness. What’s the point of living when we are dying? Would I be more happy if I found out I was living forever? Let me check into that… 

Is death our mother? 

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Honestly, 

What’s the point of living if beyond living there is nothing? Beyond dying there is nothing. I don’t see the point in any of it. There is no “heaven” and the heaven that you think is heaven is beyond the self so the you that you are now won’t be then. You don’t experience “pleasure” you experience nothing. Because there isn’t anything. So to bring yourself out of something is the hardest thing. Maybe the glory is killing yourself. 

Maybe that’s how you reach nirvana… but knowing that dying is okay. So if dying is okay – then why do we wait to die? What do we experience pain, suffering and hate only to die? Yes there is love and goodness and joy – but are those even real emotions? I mean chemically speaking yes. All the neurons fire in the brain to create a release of hormones that create an emotion – so truely what is the point of living if death is the ultimate end. Why do I need to go through this suffering of existing when I don’t even need to be me. 

They say we go through a journey of self discovery – but do we ever find ourselves? Who has turkey found themselves? No one – why? Because no one exists. This is all just a made up world in my mind. It’s my world like the one you’re living in is yours. There is no point in “living” only happening. We only “happen” so why not end the happening before the “projected date” the fate of us all lies in dying. We will all die there is no difference in you or me because we both will die. 

Death does not segregate, does not go unpunished, does not hate, isn’t bias, in a twisted way, it loves everyone equal. Maybe the good die young because death loved them more. If death was a mother, everyone would go to her. But why do we all not? Our ego drives us to be contained in this world – to drive us to end with nothing.

Or if death was our mother were we born from her? Absolutely… we are all made from a death of a star, a death of a tree to decompose to make fertilizer to become another tree – a death of a person to become another person. A cycle. A woman’s cycle, our earths cycle. 

And I’m not upset. I don’t say these worlds because I’m mad or angry or sad. Yes events have brought me here but I’ve been this way since I was a child. I remember being upset at 10 years old. For reasons I could never explain. I was in therapy since I was 8-9 and I could never get it “right”. So honestly is a chemical imbalance that you people stay here? Or that I’m still here? What was the first person that came to be say – hmmm I think living is good so I’ll make more. Was it evolution or God? Could it have been both? Are we puppets to a game to inhabit a planet for a few centuries while a slower race (not mentally but timely) measure our chemical reactions? 

What IS Reality?!

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It is but a dream, a perception of the senses that create a chemical compound to create an image or emotion. Like music in a car or a motion picture. How is it that the “energy” from a computer chip creates a sound or an image that creates a real emotion? But it’s not in front of you, yet this emotion from the music or movie feels real. It pulls you in, you get into a funk after a sad or crazy one, one that makes you think. 

So what different in a trauma of a dream, and real life? This is in my head – all the senses penatrating my brain. Sight, smell, taste, touch and hearing. All of my dreams are real. How is it that I can’t determine the real world and the dream world? I wake up to a familiar scene but that familiar scene can be one of a “reoccurring dream” so I implore what is the real reality? Isnt it that a scene is so monumental in a movie that it’s pulls you closer into the screen? You can’t turn away because of the depth of your feelings – you have no idea who or what is around you – only this moment in a movie. It’s a moment in my mind of these senses that captivate me in this world. How is it that I feel like I can feel other worlds? 
They exist, I’m not talking about aliens, yes those are quite possible – but I’m not all about it, obsessed that they do, I entertain the thought because how is it that I could ever know? Honestly? How is it that I know anything? How can my brain store more or less than yours? How does someone remember something but not another? Chemicals, emotions, feelings. It’s the self. This ego, this soul.  

I, I, i, i, i…. me me ME! That’s how. This is hell. This reality in which we are punished from oneness. 

Dreams; hell. Senses; hell. Life; hell. 

I’m the Bible it says hell is a burning firing pits. That pit in your stomach? That heat when you’re angry? Anger is love’s fear. God IS love. Anger is the separation from God. So here I am living in this hell with only a glimpse of what true love really is. What GOD is. What I’m meant to be – with God. Not as a me or I, but as in love morphed into nothingness and everythingness with God. Because we are made in his “image” in which our human language can’t properly communicate. 

Safety =Impulsivity 

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It’s when you feel safe you’re able to be yourself, is it not? When you were a child before bad things happened, you could “act out” because you felt safe around mommy and daddy because you knew they loved you. Until they punished you. Then you couldn’t fell safe. The safety you felt within them was gone – and they safety you had was taken away by the safety itself. How can you trust safety as an adult if it was taken away by the very means of being safe? 

As we grow we either act out because we feel unsafe so we want to rekindle that safety in someone else because we can’t find it in ourselves or anyone on the outside or we quit acting out. We become implosive. Hating ourselves but not letting anyone see it. As teenagers we were well behaved. As adolescents we go to college and be good little boys and girls for the safety we wish to find. We find a person to love and become attached until that person acts out against us and we no longer feel safe around them to be ourselves – to “act out” 

So we move on to something, someone else. Or if you went the earlier way, drugs, alcohol finding the next high to forget, or to feel better to not care about safety because you don’t believe safety has ever existed. 

But what if you’re caught in between? Where you don’t know whether to keep trying to find safety and continue to be disappointed and finding ways to “forget” or to “feel alive”? And by doing so breaks the safety for another so you harm that safe relationship? 

As I feel more safe with my bf I’m finding I’m acting out more. I’m on a path to destruction, not because he makes me feel that way but because I’ve never acted out. I was the child every parent wanted. Even as a baby I slept all through the night at least 6-7 hours about two weeks after the hospital. My mom said I was the best behaved child and everyone wanted me. How do you think that made me feel? To be an object of envy? How do you think that made me feel to kids my age who’s parents would say wow I wish my child would be more like you – why can’t  ou be more like tara? Uh hello we are both right here. 

Friendships were hard enough for me because I was different as a kid but you don’t have to make them worse lady. 

So now my bf makes me feel safe – I frequently hear why are you acting like a child? Or quit being a kid. This breaks me because I just want to play – I want to be able to “act out” I have to make up for lost growth in life. My impulsivity isn’t a normal impulse wherein shops, eats (although I do that more often than I should), do drugs or drink, it’s more of spontaneity in packing and leaving/moving or I get weirdly impulsive like a cat would. Biting scratching, knocking things over messing things up just because I get overly hyper and can’t contain my energy. Then just as soon as it came on it leaves. Boom just like that a 10-15 second (if that) bust of crazy then I’m okay. The biting though on my boyfriend will play back – and just like a cat I’ll fight harder until there’s a point where I don’t know limits and I’ll start hiting and I’m afraid of myself at this point. I’m not doing it to be mean or malicious I just can’t contain this energy and it explodes like a ballon; once you pop it you can’t recontain all the air that was once in the balloon… or like a cat – Start scratching their belly and they bite and kick their back feet against your arm. Then as soon as they attack they stop and run. That’s my “impulsivity”