Hello, I just joined and to say hi.
Just wanted to say, I have been looking to find a group that delves into dealing with everyday stuff, working it through. The sensitivities of it all. I think I have found it.
Will post soon, Ladybela
Ive made a lot of mistakes and a lot of bad decisions. Let me make it right! Let me forgive myself. Fuck, if I can't have anything else in the world, can I at least be allowed to forgive myself for my mistakes. Id trade the rest of my life to be at peace with myself. Why must all of this bubble up now. The flood gates are open I suppose and now its time to do some internal winter cleaning. I realize that sort of unintentionally I have begun purging myself of all of the secrets that have been rotting in the belly of my brain. I have been taking all of the things that scare me the most and pulling them up from the depths of the sea in my mind and laying it on the table for all to see, hopeing that somehow through this purging I'll find peace with it. I need to accept my life and mistakes and accept that it all has made me what I am today, and what I am today is not so bad. I have to love myself, and stop flogging myself for things I cannot change. I think right now I'm turning around and facing my worst fears. Im looking the beast within straight in the eye and I have to have faith in understanding. That somehow if I can see the nature of this beast I might be able to accept everything that mulches in my heart that makes me flinch. I think I can kiss this beast and watch it soften and curl into a corner and take a long sleep. I feel more alive right now than I have felt in years. What I'm trying to do right now is intensly difficult for me, but its time that I stopped being my own worst enemy, its time that I give up on fear. Its strange how one can be so afraid to let go of fear.
Things are always as they should be. They can be no other way otherwise risking a catastrophic paradox. Under that pretext though, there are infinate possibilities for the way things ought to be. And so they will continue always to be the way they are. Acceptance of this truth is difficult, but it seems the only peace that I can rely on. It is easy sometimes to allow yourself to float through the web of experiences, letting one experience flow into the next without conscious forthought. I don't know if it is better to control and analize and rationalize befor moving on to the next experience. And I suppose it doesn't make a difference, because you'll always end up where you are. At this point I can't claim to be either an optomist or a pessimist. Maybe a title would make it easier to direct my thoughts. If I could construct a box around my ideas keeping them neat and tidy and conforming. Just knowing I try to build a box though nulifys it. I become aware of the box and its transparency and realize it doesn't exist, and so it doesn't. Is this just a theory that Ive built to avert my own responsabilities and make them the responsabilities of the universe. Do I construct a fantasy to take the blame from my shoulders and dilute it in the expansive everything of infinate possibilities? I suppose if I'm right about all this, it doesn't make a difference, because no matter my intentions the result will be as it will be.
Has anyone heard of Shroedinger's Cat?
I look forward to letting go of the bitterness and excepting the tide of life once again.
Is inevitable, neh? I'm considering everything I used to stand for... politics.... stopping war. Contemplating further... if it is all inveitable, one will suffer, why give way to hedonistic societies obsessed with drowning the inevitable? Death will happen. Pain will happen. Suffering will happen. Why must we deaden our senses of such natural effects? Why do we not embrace this inevitability?
Is writing just an expansion of our egos? where does this process come from? When I sit back and allow for the thing in my head to simply flow i'm not attatching to them. When i write is there a subtle attatchment? I am letting go of the thoughts but it seems that i'm just trying to come up with more of the same egoo driven banter to fill the pages.
Perhaps this will pass.
I used to love watching other people, studying them from afar.
These days, I can barely stand to look at them.
I'd introduce myself, but that would be contradictory to the purpose of my journal. I'd like to share a snippet from my first post and hopefully get some feedback...
I constantly tell myself I would love to wake up each morning with a smile on my face, looking forward to another day. "Be careful what you wish for..." a voice tells me, "you just might get it."
Would that, in fact, be the worst possible fate? To completely love yourself and love your life? What, then, would one look forward to?