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be random what is now when is then where is email who i am how it is why it is leave a note? share me, share you make me smile thank you other journals (of course I should be sleeping) (what's life got to do with it?) about me (too much to know at once) friend? (tic tic tic, toc) BE MY GUEST (BOOK) << MISSING �SOMETHING? >> the bottom line who can when i had the time the first of december (has another song) what i do < ? me # > < ? harrychapin # > < ? Random Acts of Journaling # > < ? Poetic Voices # > < ? The Write Club # > < ? Nights Awake # > < ? Fluid # > < ? Adopted # > < ? Childlike # > < ? Poets-Muse # > < ? Five Hundred # > < ? As You Wish # > temporary place holder ()))CRAYON-BOX)))> published blogmad! varb? �2015 CANDOR COMMUNICATIONS IF YOU WANT TO USE THE WORDS FOR ANY REASON TALK TO ME |
but I digress... I read this somewhere today and already the connection slips from short term memory... if it comes back later I'll link the place to thank the person... but for now I share what came of today's journey... (ah yes, an old fav reminded me)...
-E.M. Forster the question so often becomes, whether watching What Dreams May Come or just pondering navel lint, whether reading Stephen Hawkings views on Einstein or Poe's views on words, whether haunted by memories of traumas experienced or by blessings lost, must we believe in existence to exist? do we paint our own reality or does it paint us? is the dream we hold most dear the one that comes true in the end, or is it the dream we share? awareness of existence is existence... or is it existance?... sometimes I wonder if this life was meant to prepare me for spending eternity alone, I mean, what if we are each alone for all eternity, if there is never true sharing beyond symbolic communication... what if loneliness must be intergrated into bliss if bliss is to be secured?... well, wouldn't I be the butt of my own joke if that was not the case, if true sharing that is becoming one with another being and sharing symbiotic awareness exists and I'm all set for it to be an impossible dream... ironic?... maybe I just chose this life because I got bored... what can you do when you lose your way when you see your truth without words to say what it means to you or what you can share when you feel like you forget how to care and nobody is aware nobody is aware when you're not aware staring into space watching your energy fade into the distance what is happening is what you believe or whatever might be whatever is true whatever is acceptance whatever your brain receptors receive what good is a heart stuck upon a sleeve? what good is a heart that can only grieve? what good is a heart that can not receive? what good is a heart that will not believe? why is your heart beating why is your mind thinking where is your love your energy? and what does it matter if it all ends where does it go if it all ends? it is possible that everything I know is wrong, that everything I want to believe is fantasy, that all that I consider real is illusion... as best as I can figure it so far, as long as I am prepared for this possibility, I am virtually prepared for anything and therefore have nothing to fear and can disempower fear, as long as I remember... the more right I am, the more wrong I might be... in spite of the distractions "" "sometimes when you lose, you win" "maybe stuff people call impossible are things they've never seen before" so I'll just go on believing in my dream and hoping that someone comes along to share a symmetric symbiotic matching dream that allows for mutual satisfaction and the realization and actualization of the dream... and that is the moment that will be... and nothing else matters...
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I love you all for coming... for reading all these words for every click feels like more love (I know that sounds absurd) if I could only tell you... one thing more tonight I'd say I wish you could come home with me and be my friends for life |