Golden
ALWAYS UNDER RECONSTRUCTION
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I’ve been killing my vibration with horror movies lately. What can I say? I feel like shit. So I end my at 2, sneak into one of my spots, and pass out on a couch watching the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre. The way that I watch movies is pass out to them, wake up at some point and rewind to the point where I left off and repeat the whole process numerous times.
When I woke up I got the feeling that the whole movie was a waste all because the final girl didn’t make it. ’What’s the point if evil wins,’ I thought and then it dawns on me— the only time there is no point is when evil wins … simple … PERIOD! That means there is always a point to everything and anything that we go through.
And with that, I got the answer to the question I’d been asking the week before.
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A Misfit’s Dilemma
In my younger days, I focused so much on disciplining my mind and building an extremely potent connection to my spirit that I did not recognize how invaluable such things were increasingly becoming to the world around me. I quite often wonder if I had known back then that I would be currently experiencing such a disconnect with my physical environment, would I have begun the uphill battle to a greater existence or just abandoned virtue and followed everyone else to hell by “putting lipstick on a pig”.
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Another Paradox
I found that
after just accepting the fact
that life has challenges,
that it always will,
and that no matter
how much we seem to think
that we have mastered it,
the challenges
actually intensify
as we increase our frequency
in order for us
to bump ourselves
up to the next one,
things just naturally
seem to have gotten easier.
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we stayed up all night
smoking cigarettes,
and talking,
but i couldn’t find anything
we had in common,
not books,
not music,
not tacos,
not a thing,
but her body
was bright and beautiful,
and her smile
was a rose in winter.
and so
so when it came time
to fuck,
I closed my eyes,
and imagined
I was fucking somebody else
with cheap perfume,
and a chain around her ankle.
when I opened my eyes,
it was still her,
and we still had nothing
to hold us together,
as the morning sun spread across
the mountains
and made shadows of trees
I knew I would never see again.
It’s not mine but I had to. This had me speechless!
(Source: poetryontheouse)
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GTP True Stories
My First Encounter with Parallel Universes
We were poor— dirt poor. Nonetheless my mom let me have the room in our one-bedroom apartment but I refused to sleep in there alone so I slept with her on the living room floor. I wake up one morning to a racket in the kitchen parallel to the living room which we lay perpendicular to. I open my sleepy eyes to see her fixing my lunch. I was in what I now know as the hypnagogic stage of sleep but can remember her asking me something while putting vanilla pudding in my pink Barbie lunch bag. I hate vanilla pudding and now Barbies and pink! Anyways, I turned over to see the same woman which I had just seen in the kitchen next to me, sound asleep.
Now this was no apparition or a twin but physical flesh and blood in two places at the same time. I’m pretty sure that
I don’t need to try and describe how afraid I was. I can only say that to this day, I can still feel my heart trying to break
out of my chest when I think about it. I did the only sensible thing a scared child does during these moments which
was gently turn my torso and face back up to the ceiling and force myself back to sleep.
