It’s hard to pinpoint anything about my life. It’s hard to say if any of these things are really “about my life”. Everything I say lines up with a moment, a particular, that I am when I say it.
Now though, when I go back, to agree or disagree, to say it louder, as though that is what I am, so often I find that it seems like a lie.
While I know that I only ever say things if I think they are true, I become confused, and do not at all times know who I am, or what to trust, because if I am not what I said I was, then what was I when I said it? What am I, if what I once said and what I now say, regarding who I am- isn’t right? What if the best answers I can think of do not fit with what is inside me on more than a surface level?
I either love people too much or not at all; I thought this yesterday. The same people, often. I want for them, to hear of their lives, and more often, to balance conversation about my own life off of theirs- to hear them agreeing, connecting, caring, and being made of the same flesh as I [seem to be].
That is one side, and the other is not feeling that anything I say is expressed in the same human words as they can hear, and feeling that my own knowledge is separate, because my connections in the world are not in other people. They are in life, god, the spirit, myself, but not in human beings.
I don’t believe this is a wish to distance, I think it comes to me as the only way. But again, there is a second distancing; this is when people don’t interest me, and I feel that I need to be away from them… I don’t know what I want anymore, and the only thing I can truly decide is that I am alone, that my state of being is with myself and as myself- that I’ll never be accompanied by anyone. To look at it in a real way, I’ve always had more acquaintances than friends, have only known a few real close friends.
I don’t think this is because I don’t know who I am, but rather, that it is who I am. I have people on some sides of me- friends, I suppose, are there, and they offer something; but so often what it is they offer is a way to go outside of myself, and be something there, enjoyable, real, but not full.
Often I look at what I have just said, because I repeat it often to myself, and sometimes aloud into the world, and I hope that one day I will find a balance between the solitude of my own mind and soul, and the worldly fun and happiness of friendship. Between introversion and extraversion, to simplify it.
See, at the same time as I feel essentially alone, I want that to be proven wrong. I believe in soul mates. I believe in the thick ties of friendship. I believe in the happiness I feel when laughing, in groups, in the flow of conversation. Conversation with two lives that connect and have much in common and feel good [with each other] – myself, and another whole person. There is one friend whom I have, a best friend, it seems. At this moment I would say he could be in my life for its whole foreseeable future, knowing everything of me, both of us creating energy from the other. I would say so, except that every day there is a stronger wall of hopelessness surrounding him. I would say so except that I don’t know who he is sometimes, and I don’t know what to do. I would say so, except that I want to be happy, and much as I love him, I do not want to fall after him. [I have been there].
This kind of thing- do I need therapy or not? I have days- weeks, ages, it seems- where I’m high, but it isn’t high in a ‘manic’, out-of-control way, is the thing- it seems natural. In that time, those periods, I feel as though I know my purpose. I feel connected to god, and more than that, I feel connected to myself, like I am all I need, and being in my alone state feels right. I am myself, everything is right in me. I am my own god- the world is going through me [as a vessel] and coming out in my way, my coloring. That is what is right. I feel blessed. The infinite world, the universe, and its soul have given me so much- understanding, strength, the ability to hear what it is saying and use it. I don’t feel I am god, or a god, or God, but I’m thankful to god, for what god is, what that makes me, and for having him inside me. Giving me this and blessing me in this way. God, to me, is an essence, an element, a being both larger than the universe and a piece intricately twined into it. Looking at myself as well, I am a miniscule piece of the universe; and yet, the entire universe is embodied inside me- breathing through me- possible within me.
I lose sight of that sometimes, but it is always true, and it always comes back, falls into place as the right part of me. Makes everything right. It always comes back… I’ve been told that my sadness comes from not being able to hold on to my happiness. Not having a grasp of that feeling.
Or I feel as though I am called to something: to pursuing gender studies, and pushing towards a more openly possible world gender-wise; towards the kind of equality that is doing what you want. There was a period when I was drawn, forcefully, completely, towards police work, towards service in the field- and to think that now, I’m shy to admit that, as though shameful- because it isn’t a part of me, of a large enough part of me, anymore. I feel like I can’t make decisions about anything, anything in my life, because I don’t know if by the time the decision becomes reality, I’ll still want it. Some things make me anxious- things that I once wanted to do become uncomfortable, things I can’t go into because they aren’t me, they aren’t what I want. I wonder, then, whom I’m letting make my decisions. This is why I feel like no one knows me, as well- because I don’t know myself, because I am not anything, or because I can’t remain as anything I am; I’m not one thing, and nor am I anything I was in the past, and nor does who I am now giving any indication at all of whom I’ll be in the future.
I’m not female. I could tell you that at any hour of any day. There are some things like that, like how I know that love is being glad someone exists. When we die, we exist inside a manifestation of our souls, age backwards, and then reincarnate with a stripped down version of the same infinite soul. Everything, every possibility in the universe, is inside a person’s soul. Every person is a tiny piece of the universe, and each action contributes to it. Consciousness came into being to fire a higher form of energy, to power the universe and all existence in a meaningful way, [a way with choice]. Irony is a kind of human beauty fashioned after natural life, that never ceases to be beautiful. These, things that I know, that a squared plus b squared equals c squared.
Most of what I know in a true way takes place in a scope and measure of the world that most do not have the same awareness of- that doesn’t affect working and breathing or the access of money, food, health, shelter, water, comfort, and love. Most of the things I know take place in a world that I want to be a part of, but that I currently am not familiar enough with. Most of the things I know take me away from the world… and often leave me breathless.
There are many fragments of myself. Divided firstly into the four quadrants of any human being, there are the mind, heart, body, and soul. Divided then, forevermore, inside me, in ways that manifest outside me. That is my way of saying, I am here. I am real. I exist. I connect and react. I think, I feel. I go on.
That is my way of saying hello, if I am ever able to do so from the bottom and the peak of who I am.