So today was rickety; bodymind shaky, like metal on metal down to the bone worn out; i didn't accomplish anything of value that i could easily gauge, i felt out of sync from waking till now, early evening. I didn't fit into today; words feel creaky.
So the desire arose to erase my capacity of noticing all this—temporarily no doubt—to reduce myself to simply being, a sensate creature experiencing a physical body with nothing more than primal desires: no thoughts, plans, suggestions, critiques, deliverables or assignments.
I wanted no shoulds or what-abouts, just a simple, nearly unaware passing through the next few hours.
Because paying attention is exhausting half the time, when all i want is to Love well, but today i doubt my own capacity to do anything than suck oxygen for 16 waking hours.
i may have to let my 18 y/o post-traumatic self die. that might be the loss i need to mourn.
it may be time to put aside a child's things... and weariness sits next to me on the park bench and says isn't this nice, no more running?
two things are different this time around, this span near ptsd, being in my fifties rather than 19.
- One, i can witness this desire for self-negation from afar, and behold it. I can wonder at it, contemplate it and still derive some of the gain i would get for actually plunging in. I don't need to live out that desire for self-destruction to fulfill it; i can simply bless it instead, and see it on its way.
- And two—the shitty day continues—should i decide to imbibe heavily, say, or forgo sleep in order to become more disoriented to these grubby planes of existence, i will do it while humbly, and kindly watching me do it.
Now, i'm still subject to the laws of physics here, no matter how; that might be worth the price of temporary oblivion.
Thank you plants.
Maybe if i say thanks like that enough i'll earn my daily rent.
i want to get up, so i do
i want to work, so i do
anyway, i desire, it happens.