i like peace an’ quiet.
don’t really like feeling so feverish with desire most of the time. my nearly 30 year old bones are hardly able to contain the heat, and I am forced to wear hoodies in summertime. maybe it’s because the open spaces of my body are so expanded due to years of steamy showers, pornography and hot air inhaled from smoking for so many years. so cold in the winter, seeking warmth from without.
mary jane tempers my emotions to a remarkable degree, making it easier to be content with the pleasures of simple survival. Sustenance, healthy environs and digital entertainment. The path of smoke soothes my heart’s chakra, transmuting the chaotic energies of the root chakra into the creative ones of the fifth and beyond. (But perhaps it affects my ability to be… grounded? What does it mean to be such when altered states of consciousness are the new normal?) materiel for another post, I think.
It’s easier to see lust as something that’s unsustainable for me without expending considerable amounts of energy I just don’t have. A decade and a half of petit morts have taken their toll, and I feel frigid. This, and the conditional affections of those whom I couldn’t see eye to eye with. Poor dietary nutrition as well. The present demands of physical existence tire my heart out easily, and I don’t feel comfortable anywhere else but the largest parks in summertime and under heavy blankets in the dead of winter.
Having another child is presently out of the question. Too… complicated. My heart is open to be loved again and to love, but only so far. Unconditional, agape, like that of a child…
… my sweet love child. I look into your eyes, and I can see forever…
… I want something simple, uncontrived of societal norms. A life of musical jam sessions, home cooked meals and good health. For a softer heart, I guess. Don’t remember meditating on death so often as now.
Quietly sipping on tea in your favorite place with a friend, no strings attached.