Thursday, November 6, 2008


A person doesn't necessarily need to be in love to make love; to understand life to live life, et cetera. I instead, would say that a life understood is a life lived and therefore, a successful life. Alas, it seems that too many people live with this belief that because 'then' happens that 'now' doesn't (perhaps this is why Tolle's The Power of Now is all over every bookstore?). But why now live in the present with the chance to see how exciting the consciousness of life is? There are things in this life, such as matter, that are tests; eyesight, then, being a test for our eyes to see beyond it and so creates imagination, dreams, ambitions, and an entire realm of new possibilities.

Only five days remain until I am back on my way to Seattle with nothing more than my checking account and Lucas. Without any real sort of structured plan, any other acquaintances, and without any real knowledge of what Seattle will have to offer. I am, by all means, just 'winging' it with the hope that I'll survive.

I haven't seen much of my friends, my house or anything else lately and I wonder sometimes about the outcome. I'm quite tempted to just keep going, heading west for now, but who knows after that, and who really cares? I could just leave all of this shit behind and still feel nothing more than alone.

Earlier today, I melted down all my burnt-t0-the-bottom candles and re-formed them into use able light sources, I guess that I make metaphors out of too much, but a lot of times I can't really understand even my own life if it's left the way it's lived. It's like I'm literally burnt out of the same ol' same ol' and I haven't left the country in over a year. I really need to get away - to accomplish something more than travel on these concrete streets.

I worry that I am only leaving for Seattle to recollect my thoughts and restructure my life. I worry that my motives for this aren't in the right place, and it breaks my heart to think this way.

But this i going to be a good experience, I'm convincing myself more every day, and it isn't a matter of whether or not I love Lucas nor whether or not he loves me. I simply need to know Lucas; I need to allow him to know me. We are deeper than the ocean and it seems that we have been focusing our attention in the wrong direction. We've been studying the skies lately, gazing into the surprisingly clear autumn skies of Northern Michigan's beautiful and rural countryside. We've been spending our time together watching the sun sink below the depths of the horizon and leaving when the rays return in rise in the early morning. I suppose that we ought to be looking not toward the sky nor toward the ground, but within ourselves and within each other.

There is a lot that I'm afraid of; I've come to realize as I'm continuously growing up. Most of my fears aren't external as I once thought. Instead, they come from within. I guess the worst of it is that all the simple aspects of my personality which I dislike most combine and transform me into one rather secluded human being.

Ultimately, I don't mind spending time isolated, because although there may not be any other people around, I have the same level of human contact I would have anywhere else, and even with an isolated physical state, I am usually engaged in the consciousness that surrounds me.

When I speak to people, in even casual dialogues, there is a seemingly heavy undertone. It is not intentional, it just is. My thoughts are
embedded deeply inside of me, and are not, generally, to be taken frivolously. I'm learning to get past this, to focus less on philosophy and art and to relate, to the best of my ability, with people more casually. Perhaps this is what D. H. Lawrence tried to convey with the imagery of two people meeting on a road where instead of just a physical meeting (or a casual "hello") they recognized the confrontation of their souls. I don't see these things enough in people - strangers and friends alike. I think our society is lacking these kind of human moments.

People are quick to lose touch with reality. The trick then is to combine the consciousness that a person is, with the surreal state which she aspires - and so is what it means to become lucid. Herein lies the eulogy of cinema (and worse, photography - because it is constrained by time): Rather than with literature, or even when telling a joke, instead of saying a man meets a woman in a coffee shop, on film, the camera follows a specific man and a specific woman in a particular coffee house. What's lost is the essence of imagination.

I am not in a position to tell anyone how to live his life, rather I admit to doing my best to encourage the people around me to exercise their minds, knowing that it is only an exercise. And to dream with their hands and minds alike.

I am leaving in five days, perhaps I will wake up in Seattle.

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