I picture Esfegione crumpled on the ground, his heart broken, the great terror clawing through his insides, his desire to stay near the ground, something safe and hard, as the dreadful abandonment shakes him. To know you are so abysmally worthless. To be discarded so easily. And even if you wanted to, you couldn’t blame them, they are the air you breathe, the sun, your reason for existing. 

I was thinking about the lengths I would go, sometimes safe, sometimes crossing boundaries to assure someone they were worth it. Like, my greatest fear in daily life, is that someone I love would feel that way, and my second greatest fear (by a tiny margin) is that I will again.

Friday

I am having a hard time applying to jobs. Part of it is not being excited, and really enjoying the sunny weather and time to stay up all night. Part because I feel unprepared in that I haven't technically applied for my license yet. Part of it is because I'm just scared and nervous.
We are celebrating my graduation this weekend. Low key family style.
I kind of feel like a fake.

Someone wrote me this morning. I responded with a lot of my thoughts on them, rather than what they shared. I wasn't nervous until the day continued on and on without a response.

Life and relationships are so weird.
What am I gonna do next?
Portugal?
South East Asia?
South Africa?
Buy an apartment?
Buy some chinese food?

Keep eating salads because I am worried about my health and maybe want to have a family some day?

Keep writing a book no one wants to read?
Hmmmm.... probably I should get a massage and do some meditation.
Walking around the lake with good music is a spiritual experience.
I have no mind. Probably gonna stay up all night playing games, and then get lonely at some point around 8-10 and feel like I will never find anyone.


Life is weird eh?

M names... and truama

I should be writing my trauma part 2 paper. I've been dabbling in homework on and off through the day. I find the trauma stuff to be really hard to stay focused on, but also interesting when you are in it. However, reading research studies of effective treatments is boring and exhausting and no where near as interesting as the stories, and the stories make you cry, and the crying makes you tired, and then its hard to do homework anyway. So I have left myself tomorrow to get it done. I have the references, and some notes, and the majority will come from websites even if I wish it were another way. The truth is that no one has a good explanation for how and why people get better. We have hopes, and we have people who drop out of the studies. We have people who get better, and often they find their way through a sense of purpose and the help of people who care for them.

I find myself lonely tonight. I don't know if it just the fact that I didn't really see anyone today, or the fact that I have been studying trauma. Or the fact that I have a crush on someone and when I see them it feels nice, and when I don't, I feel like it doesn't make any sense... but I am wishing we had infinite amounts of time to eat waffles and explore the tiniest muscle movements of the face. I am wishing I had more time to ask questions, and sit with the answers, and then ask more questions. And sometimes, though I am trying to avoid it, I also wish I had a seat next to her instead of across.

And none of that makes sense of course, because reasons. Checklists make no sense. Red flags make no sense. Attraction and chemistry make no sense. Logic is not a real thing, rationalizations are just mental chatter.

A potential new friend asks me to hang out and we talk about all these things that I ALWAYS WANT to talk to people about, but instead of being excited, I am putting up walls left and right internally. These red flags are abundant. All of these words sound right but something isn't right here. So by the end of the night, I am actually ready to be alone. I'd rather be, and she is inviting me into her life, and I am... not vocal enough to say no.

But then I look at these situations. And in so many ways they seem similar. On paper one could make the argument that this new one is a great situation, better than the other certainly. I could learn a lot, and invest in new ways, and it makes so much more logical, rational sense... and yet, I am wary. Meanwhile, this other person, who I should be wary of... hey, please text me more. I want to hear about everything, even if I don't respond. stupid.

I don't even have the right words for this. This tone is all wrong. Its short and mean. But somehow its also... true.
What do I want?  I want that feeling. I don't want the reality, the reality is that things would end up awful. And of course in the middle of this I get one of those texts, and it is meaningful and wonderful. And then I know I am vulnerable to this...
and I want to say, can I please just have this part without consequences? And I know the right answer is NO, that is not life, and I need to wake up.

A future wise woman (baby)

There are few things in life that have made me so profoundly happy for no reason.

When other people try to put words to it, I scoff, I roll my eyes, because the words are so inaccurate to what they are really trying to say that it seems like an insult, the impossibility of it is so profound that they shouldn't even try, its demeaning.

And then I am holding you, and something tugs in the most joyful and irritating way. I want to be swallowed up, and also I want to run. The slightest twitch and I forget everything about myself. The slightest movement and my whole world seems completely unimportant. You inhale and exhale too quickly, and roll your eyes, or stare at the light, and this can't be right, because I could so easily panic.
What if something happened?

And then a minute later, I am back to the conversation, you are a living weight in my arms, and as long as I am being gentle enough, and I am always gentle enough, then it seems like maybe you could sleep, and maybe I could too.

And then again you kick, or yawn, and I am lost with you in my arms, wondering how to get myself back. It makes sense why no one can pay attention to anything else, how people forget themselves mid-sentence, how people would do anything and everything. How incomplete our family has been.

on a fathers day or birth

I just finished Sula, by Toni Morrison.
I really liked both the story and the language.
I really liked the longing, and the connection, and the lies we tell ourselves.

I am missing people, and feeling lonely, wishing someone knew me enough to try to unravel, and not for their own need, though, of course I'd want to also.

Sometimes you make mistakes, say the wrong things, mean things differently than they come across, bend yourself sideways to make messy fits neater, come out all tangled and wonder why you bothered, fleeting glimpses of smiles and tears, remind you of the curled warm shapes, the way a piece can slide in place, even without completing the puzzle.

I am in-between things, and being in-between things means a lot of time to contemplate what unnatural fits feel like, and also why they call so strongly, whether friends, or work, or someone else's purpose flung on you... direction, momentum, feeling collected, and I don't just mean internally -feeling welcomed...

sun and dust

I was waiting for you to reach out, and for that reaching to mean something more. 
Though I could not presume my arms were sturdy enough to hold.
My stance, grounded enough to share the weight.
But sometimes still, I wait.

As if to see, the color underneath, once the murky water clears, I had one time a glimpse, which, I thought might mean I understood.

But simplicity was never caught, 
and
sometimes I hope she'll never be. 

And the light and shadows' glistening,
by distance made a softened storm, ever shifting, 
resistant, ripe and rare, 
for at least this little while, 
shall hold my curiosity,

if not something more. 

I spent two weeks writing this essay of personal reflection and a critique of the class.
Now it is over and I don't know what to do with myself. I suppose I can evaluate the class. I suppose I could look for jobs. I suppose I could get back to my own writing process. I suppose I could prepare for the clients I am seeing tonight. Read a book. Call a friend. Do something with my life.

I have two more months of school. New classes, CBT and Trauma, plus the capstone and a supervision class. I am looking forward to the electives, I am not looking forward to more attempts to show my growth.

I am not looking forward to a new job, not at this point. I wish I could be a consultant. I wish I could go back and forth between things, with a team of people I like.

It has been sunny. I have gone for walks, and now my feet hurt a lot.
I got more sleep than I have been, but don't necessarily feel rested. I finally shaved and brushed my hair. I need to exercise more. I probably need more commitments to keep myself focused, but I will likely fall back into unhealthy patterns for a few months as my internship winds down.

My brother and sister in law have a baby. I am an uncle. Visiting in the hospital it felt emotional, exciting and even a bit overwhelming. Mom couldn't stop pointing to parts of the baby, "aren't they the most beautiful part you've ever seen?" Yesterday at their house, the baby asleep, it felt like it would soon be no big deal. Just another day. Getting to see my parents happy. Getting to know that things would be ok for the future. Its a promise, thats what a baby is, but soon enough it will be a personality, a relationship. For now, she sleeps and makes faces while she sleeps. Babies that young are cute in the ugly way.

Need to reconnect with friends, but feel like I am coming out of a fog. Had my head in this paper too long.

Got about three months left of Grad School, still feels a bit long. I am more worried about ending my internship. I like the place so much, plus I have some clients I don't want to get rid of so quick -for their own good. The hard thing is that I still want to take on clients, even though I don't have the time or skill to handle them. Too much trauma there, sorry. Too much drama there, sorry. Too simple, kind of boring, sorry. Plus I want to keep the relationships with counselors. It would be easiest, if I could just transition into a job super easy with hours and supervision and a little volunteering on the side.

Also friends, and writing, and family, and a girlfriend?
Two years in grad school plus a year at MCTC lead to nothing in that regard.
I did make friends though. I don't know who will last. I like having K and T in my circle. I'd like to include a few other people from school who have interesting ideas, ask questions or challenge my assumptions. I am pretty sick of the professors. They are all nice enough, but fuck em.
I don't know how I will incorporate teaching and counseling into my schedule. Like if I get a counseling type job then maybe I should volunteer for ESL at night. If I get a more mixed job, maybe I should volunteer at Wicc. If I don't get a job, I can write and do both, wouldn't that be amazing? Maybe that's what I'd spend my billions on.  Actually I'd probably start another Wicc, with a few paid staff.

Or maybe a free school, a drop in center with great classes, a combo of the above, with groups!
And a home. And some travel yearly.


I am at the Northloop Spyhouse. it feels very different. Kinda chic, techno music and tile floor, kinda european, makes me wanna travel, i've been thinking a lot about Argentina and Chile lately, how much I loved them. How nice it was to travel with J. How wonderfully different they were from the Andean countries.

It feels like spring, though the weather is cold. Flowers are pollenating and it is headachy.

A few days separation from M allowed me the headspace to remember that we are very different, that I don't actually know her that well, that there is nothing promised. Then I randomly ran into her at the co-op and I was like, "damn, I'd drop my afternoon if I could."  I didn't feel it that strongly, but there was a thought.
Thats what I want to have again.

Gonna go conquer the world.

Nothing to Hide

I woke up and told myself I was not my body, nor my mind, nor my mood. Too low, too biologically predisposed to stay in bed. I practiced being the observer of thoughts, of behaviors. Nothing but a boy washing himself in a shower. Nothing but a guy driving to the coffee shop. Nothing but a pull in the direction of a pretty girl. Nothing but a frustration with homework. Nothing but an ever present worry that loneliness will remain. And temporarily, I could of course remind myself that only yesterday I had felt otherwise. And tomorrow of course, could be a new day. Likely will be. Just focus on the task at hand, I told myself. And laughed at videos on youtube. And smiled at the games played at the baby shower. And reached out casually to those I love. And worried all the while in the back of my non present mind, that I was fooling myself. Going through the motions, while every bit of my soul pleaded for some taste of what is really desired, and my observer self reminded it that it wasn't true, wasn't the only reality. You're nothing more than a serotonin deficiency. Wear something nice in case they take pictures. Nothing but a gray sky. You should have combed your hair. Nothing but the lack of caffeine. You should eat more protein in the morning. Nothing but too much sleep. Go to target to get gift wrap. Nothing but a pending headache. Stop wasting your time on social media. Nothing but the end of a hard week. Help with the clean up at the party, find a role, don't hide, don't mind your phone, smile, speak louder, don't mumble, help others feel better for showing up, for contributing, think about their day, think about their anxiety, their nervousness, put yourself in their place but don't feel guilty, don't feel ashamed, thats the worst thing you could do right now. By the time I came home, I wanted to sleep but had a paper to write. Still do. I took a nap, had a dream that was thrilling and felt so real, woke up to multiple texts from people asking how I was. I didn't want to reply, worried it was my agitation and not my pain that wished to speak, wished to plead, wished to reach for something true in a day of being so outside myself.

I think I have an anxious romantic attachment style, but a secure friendship attachment. So when a potential romantic interest becomes a friendship I become settled into my role, even if I secretly want more or crave their attention it is easier for me to feel confident in the boundaries and the reality that I won't be crushed when they don't want me. 

My romantic relationships have almost all begun during times when I have multiple crushes, and I was able to jostle the different possibilities for long enough that I could settle into feeling somewhat secure in the role, because the positive feelings of each counterbalanced the highs and lows, after feeling more secure in the role, I have at times been emotionally drawn away by friends needs, but never physically (I haven't cheated). 

I probably seem avoidant to most people, because in my attempts to stay secure, I over compensate towards avoidant in order to not lose myself. I know my tendencies to be drawn by each batted eye or scent. 

The book suggests I fall for someone boring long enough to have a secure oxytocin connection rather than be drawn to the highs and lows of chemical anxious system response. 

Heart and the Head Knowledge

A friend told me the heart and the head('s) knowledge are different, some times they don't cross the divide. The bridge isn't always there. It was on a different subject. I was still thinking of Harriet at the time.

I don't remember if I got a warning. Part of me suspects I did and forgot to write it down, after all how many dreams of you pregnant have I had? Pregnant with a new idea, a new job, a new relationship, a new life... How many dreams brought me up to speed before your words did?
But the last one I wrote down for sure was over a year off.
Of all the things to be weirded out by, I wonder where the tether is... why it did not cross the divide. Was it around the time that Krystin died? Was it around the time I was told I was to be an Uncle? Was it around the time I stressed myself out over school? Or threw myself head first into counseling? Or cried so so so many times last fall? this winter? where was the dream?

I'm so happy for you, I mean on a personal level, I really am. I'm so so so so happy for you. I am happy for the world. I may not always approve of everything else, but the idea of a little you in the world makes me happy. I imagine it is a girl. Thats so weird.


I was up late last night unable to sleep. I was thinking of relationships and trips. I was thinking of how life unspools in a way that feels as if this thing will always matter as precisely as it seems to right now. But tomorrow it really doesn't. I don't remember what that room looked like. Or the name of that town. Or the name of that student. Or that face. That set of arms. That laugh. I wanted to stop to see Victoria, but I couldn't get myself to do it, just as always. I worried she'd be too skinny, or I would feel too distant.

I cried in Starbucks yesterday thinking about Krystin. Thinking about her Dad and his desire to find closure. Thinking about her brother and his distance. Thinking about myself.

I cried thinking about Harriet today. I couldn't even remember her name, but I did recall the sound of her voice, the cheeky look on her face, a restaurant in Sucre.

I cried today, just for a second thinking of my lonesome self. A pity party for one. I hate how often I am desperate for company, but don't want to say anything. Easy enough to tell a friend, I want you to like me, much harder to say why.

This reminds me

I remember when we were in high school, I thought you were beautiful, dancing naked in that thunderstorm. –Haven’t I written this before?

           

In psychoanalysis, there is an idea that a person will play out their maladaptive relationship patterns within the therapeutic relationship, that is, they will reveal their unconscious conflicts, their underlying issues. In the therapeutic setting then, the therapist is expected to remain separate but attuned, able to recognize, draw out and guide the person into a different psychological pattern, perhaps to prolong it until they see, perhaps to question it until they understand, to enact it until they can break the pattern once and for all. The theory goes, that if the analyst doesn’t catch it the first time, it will surely repeat, it always repeats. The cognitive-behaviorists say the same, but call it all by different names. As do the transpersonalists, inspired by the Buddhists, Jains and Hindus.

Samsara

The spinning world, the wandering path, the burden of suffering, the cycle.

“Isn’t this where we came in?”

            Have I not been here before?

This path feels so familiar.

            This reminds me of high school.

This feeling, is of the last time,                        and of the next time,    I’m sure.

This is   -was             -will be            -again,  

            Dizzily I plea, holding tight to my seat,

Let me off the spinning wheel!

But your face reminds me of a beloved friend, not so much physically, just the presence. And so, I reach out to her, and you, assuming the similarity must mean something true. You have a new name, but your voice reminds me of another love, and I am sure it’s the same oxytocin in my arteries. Your story reminds me too, and so I continue to reach, as I do, as I have, as I will.

I write a new poem, and find it suffuses into an old one, the next stanza, so you must be my next verse, next chapter, next friend or lover. But I could have sworn I dreamed you, have known you, have met before. And it must be so, because this is all too familiar. This behavior. This pattern. Isn’t this the same old story…

Karma brought us here. I know the rhythm in my veins, what did I do last time that brought me more of the same? What should I do this time to fulfill my dharma, or to cast it aside and become enlightened? To heal the wound in this unconscious conflict? To address the issue of my attachment?  

Yet again, I’m called to your side with a quick plea and a grin, dopamine drips, my mind splits from the grounded path, drifting, scattered, some part of me always wanted to learn to be care free, to float towards the heavenly, some part of me has always wondered why I cling to the dirt, claw for its regulations, moral anchors, dense and dull. I see them now my grasping hands, my rigid stance, even as my heart drifts toward the intoxicating scent, the fantasy flight, enamored and clambering, where am I again? And this is how I am split open, a heart butterflied, a soul crucified in its place, struck bridging the divide, I realize I’m tantalused again.

I’ve been here before, haven’t I?

I always sooth myself with Gibran’s declaration that the lute must be hallowed with a knife. oh, I listen to your song, tantalized, oh, I wait on each word, eye wink, hand caress, drawn breath and smirk. oh, These are the instruments playing, and I love a crescendo as much as the silence between the plucked notes, oh, those strummed chords, oh, I know this, its clenched ache, its longing to release, you’re playing my heart song, again, oh om.

Was it not Judas, who, with such noxious lips, embraced the lord, condemning himself, and yet saving the world? Not knowing the part that he played, he saw only the vicious cycle of his attachment repeating, the betrayal of himself again and again, this unconscious wound split open and un-mended -and by his dharmic suffering sanctioned the miraculous.

Chained to the wheel of longing and sorrow, focus on one point to dispel the dizziness, proclaim it beautiful, raise up the pedestal so that from any position in the spin, you can still proclaim your devotion to the idol -and even if it’s a new love* tomorrow, worry not, the familiarity will follow.

I’ve come to expect the hurt, ever enticed by the sirens’ pull, as Goldmund had to find out, despite logical Narcissus’ warning. And between the suns and moons, that set me spinning, I meditate, learn to discern between stories, practice crafted words, taming my tongue to sing others songs so that I can stay anchored while they enact them again and again. Watching the river flow to the sea, drift up into the sky, collect, and crash again.  

But I remember, as the world and you spun, your arms outstretched, the flashing terrible, and glistening and cold - so vulnerable in your need, so giving in your desire, you pressed your tongue into my mouth, and ground your soaking skin onto mine, and for a moment I thought, this feels right, so beautiful and human, so familiar.

Well that hasn't happened in a while

I am totally going to regret this post at some point.
I have a crush, like a legitimate one, and its on another person who is totally unavailable and probably doesn't like me like that, but she has been really friendly to me. So, it feels good sometimes. And also horrible sometimes.
And in general I know this is setting myself up for disappointment because when I say she is unavailable, I mean it. But I've been trying to remind myself to use that energy, that feeling like things are possible to look around and see the world with that new light. Like maybe things are possible even in the dark.
She reminds me of other friends. Of people I miss because they are far away or too involved in their own lives. And it reminds me that I am capable of loving, that in fact I do love quite a lot of people, that they warm me still even though I sometimes forget.
It's funny how things like this happen. I met this person several months ago and knew from the first time that I wanted to be around her more, but as we've come to develop a few routines, started texting occasionally, hung out once, it became a reality I couldn't not admit to myself, because I was talking to her in my head all the time. And again, she is totally unavailable; like not a single possibility. But she lights up a bit sometimes when I am around, when other people are around too, but its nice to have someone spread a little of their love in my direction. And I can learn a lot from her, usually do... so why not enjoy the friendship? even if I know its a little hard sometimes. Even if I know it isn't a possibility. Even if I know at some point she will say something or I will, and it will be over forever, because at this point we barely know each other and there are so many differences easily recognized even at this distance, that to get too close surely means catching fire and burning the whole thing up. But again, why not enjoy the moment, why not enjoy the look in people's eyes, and acknowledge their smiles and just be comfy being confided in? Share a joke now and then? Flirt a little, because its safe, for her at least right? And I need a little warmth now and then.

OOOH I didn't even write a new years post this year? 
So out of the habit huh.

Thursday night I had a sudden tail spin, felt a bit foggy, felt a bit off my game, a little more irritable though I think I handled it well enough. Friday, I went to breakfast with Mel, and things were ok but I felt like I couldn't wake up entirely. Later in the day I continued to get more irritable and felt more and more hopeless. I knew the headache had something to do with it, the weather, the lack of sun, but the symptoms of depression are so amazing, how they swoop in and replace things so easily: 
I'm lonely. I'm feeling overwhelmed. I'm feeling incapable of completing my goals. I'm aware that I have a lot on my plate, but I can't quite discern what it is. I am feeling left out even as people reach out to me. I am feeling unloveable even as they voice their concerns. I am worried about the future, the next week, the next month, six months, a year, and in that worry I can imagine a lifetime of failure, of incompletes, of isolation and irritation, so easily. 
I try to treat myself the same way I would treat a client, biology, behaviors, social life, thoughts, spirit. Are you getting enough sleep? Are you getting enough to eat? Are you getting the caffeine fix you need? Are you getting enough exercise? The sun? Are you breathing? Are you being mindful? Are you checking in with friends? When you check in, is it meaningful, are you sharing enough? Are you asking for what you need? Are you taking time for yourself -to recharge? Hobbies? Meeting goals? What are you overwhelmed about? What evidence is there? What feedback are you getting? What would you like to hear? What are you telling yourself? What does that mean? What does it mean over the long run? What changes can you make now? What changes can you make over the long run? What do you need to do so? 
I am in school and it feels like life is on hold. I make some new friends, but it cannot lead anywhere. What does it mean to old friends, is this a betrayal? Some of these new friends remind me of old friends, what does that mean? Who do you want in your life Mike?  Am I grateful enough? Am I giving too much? I return to the idea of doing homework and it feels abysmal and distant to everything that makes sense. But to do what I want, I have to jump through the hoops. Is this what I want? What do I want? I need a therapist, I need to be touched, I need reassurance from someone who can actually give me the love and support I crave. I feel incapable of getting those things right now... can't even set an appointment for a massage the next day -it's too far away. 
This entire conversation takes place over days, but feels like the thoughts and questions and concerns are jammed on top of each other, one thing -means the world, I need to unpack them, slowly, filter through, what is real, what do I want to be real? I feel like I am never enough. What does that mean in the short term, in the long run? What does it mean to want to run away, to move to Argentina to drop the facade of helping, of being useful to others, of being disconnected... Because I am aware that that is what happens -I take time for myself and become lost. I take time for others and become lost. There is no balance here, no assurance, no reassurance. 
And suddenly, much like my clients, I wonder if this means I am dying. Some cancer creeping up my insides, some limitation I hadn't yet conceived of, to place the lid on my desires, my grand schemes. Or maybe subconsciously I am looking for a means to convey my inabilities, a word to express my ineptitude, a scapegoat, a reason, a name, a something to point at -and just say "it isn't me -not wanting to be, but I haven't been given a choice, it's bob's fault." And who is Diane in that situation? (a joke from rory scovel). 
I pick up the next day, a little more determined, but also still hesitant, aware of the ache in my stomach, my knee, my mind, awareness is a demon sometimes. But maybe it's just the cold front storming, a lack of sleep, a lack of caffeine, not enough time to contemplate the reasons. Maybe you should plan ahead. A massage once a month. Maybe you should find a therapist. Maybe you should jump into that assignment you've been putting off. Maybe contemplation is overrated? But I start to feel a bit better assigning it to paper. This isn't me after all, this is a commotion caused by the unrequited. A collection of the neglected. A compendium of little worries trying to compile themselves into complexity.  Time for some cognitive restructuring. 

Monday and out of the habit

This weekend was good, I spent some time tabling for the internship on Friday, then did some homework and saw Alicia. We went to see a movie and caught up a bit. She is really trying to make some changes in her life after feeling trapped in a cycle for far too long. Its pretty inspiring.
Saturday I did some homework, I walked lake of the isles, I took a nap. Sunday I did some homework, I saw Illy, I spent far too long relaxing and watching youtube in bed. The assignments were fairly easy and didn't require much reflection. I spent too much time worrying, and too much time dreaming. The days are short and I spend half hiding in my bed. Maybe it is the push pull.

I have an easier week this week. Tuesday and Wednesday are full but the others each have just a few things. One big assignment due this weekend but requires group work. Some readings I would like to do. A mnspec event on Sunday -it would be nice to attend.
Next week I suppose I will get another little break.
Wed-weekend should be lots of homework time.
Each of my classes has a few more big assignments. I am sort of anxious about them as my investment in the work seems to be waning. The little assignments are fairly meaningless, but at least they are simple applications. The longer assignments that require thought, creativity or reflection are a little more difficult. Sometimes it is just the amount of hours. So many hours.

I am unsure if I should be satisfied or worried by life right now. I am not working, but it is hard for me to imagine working and being able to stay involved in the things I am doing. I am looking forward to winter break, hoping to be able to pick up a few more hours at WICC but also see people, do some creative stuff, maybe some spiritual stuff. 

I have abandoned my friends -at least the ones not involved in the current things. Its hard to make room when I am working most nights and in class or doing homework on the weekends.

It is hard to imagine fitting someone new in, but I still feel like I am missing out on a huge part of life. That being said, I don't have a crush on anyone. I have people I find attractive. Folks I enjoy spending time with. But no one that I feel especially called to. When Jesse messages me in the middle of the night I get excited, but I don't have any belief that it means anything. I'm still hung up on old loves? I look around and see some folks who make it seem easy. I look around and see a lot of folks in broken relationships. I look around and see a lot of lonely folks- who I am unfortunately not interested in. The independence breeds a stronger desire for independence, a set in the ways, all my ways in a set.  Maybe I need to leave this place again. 

Friends will leave, thats a given. I've been reflecting a lot on my commitments to people since Krystin  passed. What is it I am able to do. Why is it I feel obliged to do more. Why feel guilty or ashamed since I can't.  I've been thinking a lot about the ways I've tried to repay my debts, rather than ask for reconciliation or forgiveness. How with some people I grew angry, and rather than confront them I withdrew because I didn't feel convinced that it was my place to say, and didn't want to pay the price of walking them through it. Did they do that for me? Did they hold my hand through a lesson? Did I allow them to. Or with the ones that I have hurt, would it hurt them more to acknowledge or should I walk away so they don't have to be afraid? And if that costs me some price, is it deserved? my fate? 
And of karma? should I dislodge this burden or continue to bear it, find myself chained again in the next life.

It is hard to invest in this world right now. Easy to invest in the simple things, the daily connection at work, the occasional kind word, the spare dollar for a tip. But this world seems so lost, so corrupt, so bitter. I don't want to live that way. I want to push back. But the effort is so great. 

I keep getting distracted. Woke up too late. Curious about all the flashy new paint. Drawn and quartered that way