cycles.

sometimes i have to remind myself that the earth is not a cold, dead place.

which leads to me reminding myself that my heart is not a cold, dead place.

which leads to me telling myself that people are not stone; there is fire inside of them.

which makes me realize that God is breathing into people.

then i feel my own Self and heart being breathed upon; a Light being shone into this darkness.

then i find myself alone or waking up in the morning, and the perpetual cycle of this thought has to start all over.

but lately, i am feeling the Sun again.

i can't help it when i get into these moods. whats mine is mine, and i am not eager to share what i have. i can't help when i feel an invasion of my relationships is coming; when something i have cultivated and made my own feels tread upon. my self worth has been beaten into the ground, and just when i find myself building it back up, something always intervenes, causing me to retreat back into my Self, away from the crowd and those i care the most about.

where two or three are gathered, there i am content and happy.

i know i invent these in my head. i can't help it.

Live Oak, with Moss.

I SAW in Louisiana a live-oak growing,
All alone stood it, and the moss hung down from the branches,
Without any companion it grew there, uttering joyous leaves of dark green,
And its look, rude, lusty, made me think of myself.


But I wondered how it could utter joyous leaves, standing alone there, without its friend, its lover near -- for I knew I could not,
And I broke off a twig with a certain number of leaves upon it, and twined around it a little moss,
And brought it away -- and I have placed it in sight in my room,
It is not needed to remind me as if my own dear friends,
(For I believe lately I think of little else than of them,)
Yet it remains to me a curious token -- it makes me think of manly love;
For all that, and though the live-oak glistens there in Louisiana, solitary, in a wide flat space,
Uttering joyous leaves all its life, without a friend, a lover, near,
I know very well I could not.

-from "Calamus Poems" from "Leaves of Grass" by Walt Whitman.

--

This makes me want to cry.

did it hurt?

when mumford fell from heaven?




--

i can't get enough walt.

I know I have the best of time and space, and was never measured and
   never will be measured.

I tramp a perpetual journey, (come listen all!)
My signs are a rain-proof coat, good shoes, and a staff cut from the woods,
No friend of mine takes his ease in my chair,
I have no chair, no church, no philosophy,
I lead no man to a dinner-table, library, exchange,
But each man and each woman of you I lead upon a knoll,
My left hand hooking you round the waist,
My right hand pointing to landscapes of continents and the public road.

Not I, not any one else can travel that road for you,
You must travel it for yourself.

It is not far, it is within reach,
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born and did not know,
Perhaps it is everywhere on water and on land.

Shoulder your duds dear son, and I will mine, and let us hasten forth,
Wonderful cities and free nations we shall fetch as we go.

If you tire, give me both burdens, and rest the chuff of your hand
   on my hip,
And in due time you shall repay the same service to me,
For after we start we never lie by again.

This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven,
And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs,
   and the pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we
   be fill'd and satisfied then?
And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.

You are also asking me questions and I hear you,
I answer that I cannot answer, you must find out for yourself.

Sit a while dear son,
Here are biscuits to eat and here is milk to drink,
But as soon as you sleep and renew yourself in sweet clothes, I kiss you
   with a good-by kiss and open the gate for your egress hence.

Long enough have you dream'd contemptible dreams,
Now I wash the gum from your eyes,
You must habit yourself to the dazzle of the light and of every
   moment of your life.

Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore,
Now I will you to be a bold swimmer,
To jump off in the midst of the sea, rise again, nod to me, shout,
   and laughingly dash with your hair.




- Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself 46"

process 1.

i am trying to process all of this newness i have been given. all within a few weeks time:
stress about school, graduation, camp, next fall, sickness...it's all there weighing heavy.

truths that i have forced myself to believe about life, love, people, and myself are being proven wrong progressively more and more as each day goes on. truths to me that grew out of this deep melancholy that has been the past several months. it feels good. in my chest i can feel a literal sense of who i was and who i imagine myself as pulling my heart open, revealing who i AM to myself. this melancholy is apart of me, but it isn't who i am at my core. at my core i am good, i am light, i am love, i am free. these four things i have hid from myself for so long; that i am so undeserving of those four elements that make a human being Whole. but i'm not. i deserve that. how have i fooled myself for so long in thinking i wasn't?

this is good. i am still trying to process it all, and it will be a gradual, changing event. i am thankful for the change happening inside of me, but i don't want to become entirely reliant on a person or medication to make me feel better. they help, and they are worth it and good, but i truly need to become okay with myself with those other things aiding me along the way.

this is just the initial rough draft of the process of my current thoughts of today.
today has been difficult for me, but i have come to learn i can't expect every day to be completely perfect inside of me.


i think i have found something special though. something different and real.
something making the sun come up again.


it is a good feeling.




this video is dumb but this song always finds a way of bringing itself back to me.

Perfect.

Ezekiel 37

The Valley of Dry Bones

¹The hand of the LORD was upon me, and he brought me out in the Spirit of the LORD and set me down in the middle of the valley; it was full of bones. ²And he led me around among them, and behold, there were very many on the surface of the valley, and behold, they were very dry. ³And he said to me, "Son of man, can these bones live?" And I answered, "O Lord GOD, you know." ⁴Then he said to me,"Prophesy over these bones, and say to them, O dry bones, hear the word of the LORD. ⁵Thus says the Lord GOD to these bones: Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. ⁶And I will lay sinews upon you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live, and you shall know that I am the LORD."

⁷So I prophesied as I was commanded. And as I prophesied, there was a sound, and behold, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. ⁸And I looked, and behold, there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them. But there was no breath in them. ⁹Then he said to me, "Prophesy to the breath; prophesy, son of man, and say to the breath, Thus says the Lord GOD: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe on these slain, that they may live." ¹⁰So I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived and stood on their feet, an exceedingly great army.

¹¹Then he said to me, "Son of man, these bones are the whole house of Israel. Behold, they say, 'Our bones are dried up, and our hope is lost; we are indeed cut off.' ¹²Therefore prophesy, and say to them, Thus says the Lord GOD: Behold, I will open your graves and raise you from your graves, O my people. And I will bring you into the land of Israel. ¹³And you shall know that I am the LORD, when I open your graves, and raise you from your graves, O my people. ¹⁴And I will put my Spirit within you, and you shall live, and I will place you in your own land. Then you shall know that I am the LORD; I have spoken, and I will do it, declares the LORD."

mirror mirror

most hours of the day, i am content by myself.
i have become an expert of weaving myself through people on a sidewalk with little interaction. i have accomplished the straight face of empathy and apathy. and even in the most public of situations, i can diminish myself to dirt in the carpet.

i live inside the caged, locked up, without a key container that is my body.
i see people and i hear people outside, walking up the stairs and to the door.
just because you knock doesn't mean i'll let you in.
this porch light only illuminates for a few; insects.
and if you are in, you should reflect on that, and how difficult it was for me to grant you that access, and consider yourself one of the few lucky ones.

sometimes days are good, sometimes they're bad.
i hate that i am a never-ending calendar of feeling.

if you can't bear the f-word, you probably shouldn't play this. but i love her right now.