You're in the right place....

Introspection.


         Should I feel bad that I do not always censor myself entirely when in the company of others?  No. Fuck. Stream of consciousness or carefully chosen words. Ideas, sentiment, it all means something even if there was no intention, no forethought. Be wild, why hold back unless it's absolutely necessary? Freedom freedom. Do I live in a time where passionate use of that word is a platitude? Break it. Uncomfortable when I'm not outwardly honest. Even at the risk of being obnoxious and seemingly uncontrolled. Awkward? Sometimes.

        I am a soft lump of flesh encased in a translucent shell. Alone and comfortably vulnerable, thus far. I mean it.
       I don't want to censor myself, though sometimes I feel verbally paralyzed by circumstance, and I don't know why. But it doesn't matter much anyway.
        We're not supposed to talk about our ideas, ourselves, risking being labeled as self-centered or self-indulgent, a fallacy with the exception of the narcissist.
        For the most part, I notice people censoring themselves or making it clear that they think someone else should. We can achieve a graceful freedom of expression, or lie low in straight up belligerence. Unreasonably so. It's like someone verbally belly flopping. Laugh and lighten up. If you can't take a joke, you're fucked. If you think everything is a joke, you probably have undergone a lobotomy.
         We all have a story, multiple stories overlapping each other existing in one vessel. Multiple selves that make the whole. Humans are the most interesting animals to me, ensemble of extremely complex behaviors and manifestations of innovation. We can create things for many different reasons, we can choose to destroy or create, transform. We have motives beyond survival. We are the fabricators of art, for the poetic emotion. We have the potential for graceful deliverance of our own observations of constant presence devouring moment after moment. But it can be simple. We don't have to achieve the highest heights or feel let down when something gets fucked up in our lives. Let's mourn and move on. Our time is not infinite. I think when we live like our time is infinite we sometimes forget the small things in our lives, like being able to walk to your mailbox and open the little door accompanied by anticipation, or the fact that there are numerous possibilities in our lives, and it's alright if we are just doing our part when we inhale and exhale and look around ourselves. Lucky us for even being here, this blink of human existence. We are capable of manipulating our environments to such a vast degree, even making ourselves feel bad for not manipulating something, making ourselves feel bad for relaxing and enjoying ourselves regardless of what we do (build a house or chill in the grass 12 hours a day, anything). Let's make stuff when we're inspired, make something for ourselves and maybe we can share it if we want to, not feel obligated to. Is it so bad being human? To make mistakes? To dream? To enjoy the fruits of life? To forgive or be forgiven? To express yourself genuinely? Sometimes it comes easy, other times it takes some searching within, but ultimately it's a great gift to be honest with oneself and feel comfortable being here.
            My life has been a series of strange events. This is where I feel like I expose myself. It's undeniably a story fit for an Oliver Stone film. Almost as though everything was observed in some sort of third person perspective...my story feels like it's actually someone else's. I read it in a book, watched it in a film, dreamed it up, why not....but then, where was I? I was there. Somewhere. I have climbed the haphazard stairs and have found relief.  I imagine I was cast as the interloper in my own life. I sort of like it, but it can be a lonely and confusing place, just have be positive with the understanding that it is possible that everything can change, don't expect anything not to change. I dig my life. I've learned a lot of things, but it's tough trying to relate to some people if I talk about details, that's how I know the "strange" events were in fact...unique, people seem to not "get it", my fault for lack of self control at times when I expose a vulnerable side of myself. I'd much rather leave the details for the interested, the miners of mind, zip. Keep moving at my own cadence. Like most people, I want to understand more of what and who I am, since everyday is closer to my death and I like being here after all. I'm glad I'm alive. This is my chance to breathe, tell jokes, stare at the stars, interact with ink and paper, contemplate the sciences that bring me closer to understanding imagination, and relax. Truth is, I'm highly interested in you. The world, in a variety of ways. I can't always look inside myself for insight. I've just been in the middle of processing my life's status quo. Feeling like a delirious common wealth realm driver caught in minimum speed 90mph while simultaneously gridlocked in the avenues of LA. Anyway...
           Talk about your magnificent existence, or at least what is close to it. In this search of other's stories, ideas, descriptions of personal observations in this short life, our short lives, one needs to keep an ear and eye out for the gems. Reason? I desire to experience the intangible environments of the mind elsewhere. Poetry, stories, dreams, and the seldom explored multiverses within a single mind...I'm talking about contemplations of the simplest to the most complicated things. Not all of these stories are going to be quality, but I can live with the raw.
          My brain has been storing a string of possibilities swimming in the folds. Scenarios playing out and rewinding, rewinding and out playing. Mostly positive. Mostly not rewinding. I have undergone some massive changes in my life this past year. I am adapting, moving forward, enjoying the uncertainty of my future. The foundations once established in my life have again dissolved. My curious attitude propels me forward in uncalculated directions. I am clumsy at times. I have flaws, they're obviously subjective. This is alright, trying to exist in a world where poetic frequencies of thought processes make for an unpredictable future, making everything more real, more beautiful, more interesting. A strange adventure is the only thing certain at this point, be it simple or lavish. Explore the earth more with a nice rhythm, just wander and get a little lost when I need to. I'm on board the spontaneous ship....tripping over my own feet when I'm called on to dance.