Long time waiting to write, to live, and I've been wondering what I'm waiting for - is this right? Is this the life I'd want to die for? I question whether the questions are working, and if the work I'm putting in is gonna make it worth it. Perhaps this is the grave presupposition--I'm not following through with my philosophy enough--and so I'm failing to realize if this will ever measure up to be meaningful.
A brief moment struck me as I coughed up some blood: I looked up to the mirror to see my face, dripping wet with sweat or water but that doesn't really matter because my body was saying, "Look. Your heart is crying. It's showing you something real enough that you can feel it echo through the stairwell of those lecture halls, where others feel their feet hit the ground. over and over. they go up and down. over and over. like beats. heartbeats.
How long has it been since you've felt grounded?
You should reflect on your connection to the earth- not just think about it in abstraction- and uncover the reasons why the mother in you wishes you to be well and take care. Your heart's got to be in it, and it is somewhere, but it's also got to beat, and to sing, and without you being able to breathe it won't be right. Whatever you write is got to come from a heart that's alive.
See how your mind is jumpy, your lips are lonely, and your hands dismembered and searching like crazy to pull you up from a handhold on anything, even if that thing is unstable, and the spills that ensue because it's all off balance?
Be like water.
Remember to be like water; if the cup is cracked the water leaks out, it finds its way back to the ground. And if the heat rises too much, to heaven the water will ascend first and fall back again once it's collected itself. Be like water. Soft. Don't force anything. Mold within the confines you've been given but know that your nature is strong and resilient. It only knows one truth- that to make it home is to go towards the center of the earth. Resistance to home, feeling alone, and wandering too far uphill is dangerous.
Be like water."
-8/27/08
A brief moment struck me as I coughed up some blood: I looked up to the mirror to see my face, dripping wet with sweat or water but that doesn't really matter because my body was saying, "Look. Your heart is crying. It's showing you something real enough that you can feel it echo through the stairwell of those lecture halls, where others feel their feet hit the ground. over and over. they go up and down. over and over. like beats. heartbeats.
How long has it been since you've felt grounded?
You should reflect on your connection to the earth- not just think about it in abstraction- and uncover the reasons why the mother in you wishes you to be well and take care. Your heart's got to be in it, and it is somewhere, but it's also got to beat, and to sing, and without you being able to breathe it won't be right. Whatever you write is got to come from a heart that's alive.
See how your mind is jumpy, your lips are lonely, and your hands dismembered and searching like crazy to pull you up from a handhold on anything, even if that thing is unstable, and the spills that ensue because it's all off balance?
Be like water.
Remember to be like water; if the cup is cracked the water leaks out, it finds its way back to the ground. And if the heat rises too much, to heaven the water will ascend first and fall back again once it's collected itself. Be like water. Soft. Don't force anything. Mold within the confines you've been given but know that your nature is strong and resilient. It only knows one truth- that to make it home is to go towards the center of the earth. Resistance to home, feeling alone, and wandering too far uphill is dangerous.
Be like water."
-8/27/08
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