xylopoet

4:44am i find myself thinking about quitting thinking a track of thought to begin thinking  another idea only to later come to know that as the very essence of escaping an only moment - the present; but that’s my best stunt - slipping away into the night into the wilderness into the music carried by the waves so seldom caught when my glory senses are high and i actually feel alive only then when i do not think therefore i am not…  and that’s freedom. Your friend, someone who’ll give a damn it isn’t me the one who was there the person who cared i’ve come so far since castles collapsed and i fell back on after off like you can stand  again, my friend a term i’ve proclaimed too generously in times of stress dressed in success but has saved my life during downs and outs, of the closet into the hobbit hole, chasing magic running, being on the run, and the retrospect we reverie when thinking about  how much i’ve changed; egoic blows make room for soulful expansion.  i...

I go on one therapeutic woods walk, and suddenly, everything changes. It is now obvious that I’m NOT reuniting with my former partner. I’m on medication for delusional thoughts. Ever since I quit toking grass, I was under a spell; it was a falsehood. It’s not a big deal. This is just the ride. I’ve processed a lot of trauma and: it is the fact that I am done with him. I realize two hours ago, I was writing about inviting him back and thinking that was our destiny. But it’s not. That’s just a stupid idea I had in my schizoaffective disorder. Moving right along.  I’m not going to delete the previous postsfrom the past 3 weeks because it’s important my readers understand the whole story. The juicy details of this live-action journal show is the content you’re subscribing to. The more I write out about my past, the more it remains in my past. This is powerful healing. My intuitive dialogues have started saying, “okay, now you’re over him and it is not reality for a reconnection.” Again...

All’s well that ends well. This start of my story says that my therapist appointment went quite excellent. I processed a ton of negative emotions, &, blossomed in my maturity. I spoke about how my senses are a driving source building my future. A brilliant future that mustn't have residual remnants of the impurities my partnership had in it during previous eras. In order for that to be the case, I must state my boundaries. No phone addiction, no sketchy people, no misinformation fed to me. Only honesty in Truth, acting in accordance with our shared heartsong. I hated being submissive to a power imbalance, but hey, what is the best improv actress supposed to be, when the alternative is much worse. I didn’t wanna lose one of my many Loves, until I did, then I gained the clarity necessary to keep on carrying on. I’m serious when I say my ex’s cell phone was pistol whipped out to me, and I hated being a member of the intentional community. Too many troubled people infected our harm...

Today, I have an online meeting with my therapist. In my diary, I’d like to share what I will be sharing in session. This is so my partnership is clear from past negative trauma, and I can return to my intrinsic state of being a lover of life.  What’s going on with me is that once I quit smoking, my intuition has delivered me the news that a reunion with my partner is in the making. That is in fact what is meant for me, in the purpose of my life story. It’s excellent, as floating in and out of our togetherness has been a theme for quite some time, and I wanna be ready to let bygones be bygones. In order to do that, tho, I must rant on here for a bit. The style of our partnership was simple - I will say, “yes and” to any and everything, as we make our ways through our shared world. And I proved my worth in that, even when times were stupid. What really happened at the instance of our falling out, was that the one narrative he kept feeding me about his solo poly lifestyle got way out...

I’ve been scrolling through my past timelines and diaries, reminiscing fondly on how good memories are all I have. I mean, I only make positive expressions of my heart, and that’s reflective in my poetic narratives and photography. That’s the key to enjoying life - create the joy you wish the world to be. Be the reason you believe in Life as Love. I got uplifting messages early in existence and pursued them in my journey. Now, I have bouquets of heavenly material to carry me through this walk of breathing time.  I’m still out of what to say. Is there anything left to tell? The universe takes care of my nature so I know I am in good hands. I’m racking my brain for what to write. I have shed my scorpion cloak to a new condition; I am proud to declare that all I’m doing is waiting for my new apartment to come through. Until then, it’s nothing for me here. Yesterday I said this. Now echoing myself like the polly parrot bird owl I am. When I am settled into my new place, the one that be...

feminist quote “I am at my clit’s end. [wits end]” Today, it’s not that I am really confused or worried any more… Praise the lawd, my education and experience over the course of time have alleviated me from my female hysteria. I am, however, at a crossroads of my jaded state. I’m honestly bored with drawing sigils, as my points are clear and well received. And I feel out of topics to write about, since my ideas have all been expressed. Do you realize I’ve been doing this now for my entire life, literally… I’m just vibing for my next era. The boredom is engulfing me. When there is nothing left to say, what do I do? I’ve gone on a milli woods walks and runs, feel satiated by music, have no place to go and no one to see… this is truly a simple little kind of free. But my in between dreams time here at my mothers apartment is a fact of my life. Whether I want it or not, it is what it is. There’s a difference between being in Transcendental Meditation and being lazy. I don’t wanna rest on t...