Whiskey soaked words (tapped out on a cell phone screen, so necessary was it for them to find their way to life.) Words as an attempt to float above the 3D feelings, to return to where they belong, which was never down here. It’s been a minute, since I felt so down; down here…
There’s nothing really wrong, apart this familiar, distant, ache, but outweighing it by far, the magic of life falling (finally somewhat) into place. Still there’s the pull to write (through it) as I do, to understand, from where it came, and why, and make sure this time its gone. Because today was one of those days where, if I believed I was being tested, a pop quiz was on the agenda to see if I’ve done ‘the work.’ No malice, or ill intention, just life unfolding as it will.
This path on which I’ve found myself, the path I agreed to walk, this position I chose to take, in some time or place, worlds away from where I now stand, is, no lie, a mother fucker at times. In all ways beautiful of course; if mother fucker and beautiful can be used in a non-ironic way, to describe the same exact thing. My friend, a strong and badass warrioress, says this journey she wouldn’t wish on her worst enemy, even as she’s it face, voice, and champion. But if you don’t understand, you won’t understand, the weight of the privilege, of being, a feather in the wind.
The ever present energetic and physiological upgrades, the feeling of every feeling all at once, mine and (global) yours, and holding before me of mirrors from which the gaze cannot be broken, because there is no where to look that it doesn’t exist, while always about me, but never just about me, can wear a sister out at times. Sometimes when looking in a mirror, all you want to see reflected back is big bright eyes, kissable lips, a great rack, and a lush round ass, instead of the smudge of residue on a cheek, that you thought you’d long ago wiped clean.
“Sand through the hourglass” whiskey through the lips, and kind arms that earlier caught me as I stumbled, helped me clear the fog and tears. Tomorrow I’ll be me again. I’ll remember the lesson, but forget the story, because I know now what it was. And I’ll continue on my path of healing me while I heal you while I heal me. Because I am here to shine light, and be light, to love and be love. And this was always my path, even when I didn’t know it. Maybe I’ll even find the rest of the words that meant to write themselves tonight, that abandoned me, 2 heartbeats ago.