Still wishing for the perfection of reality. .. still dreaming in an ordained Matrix. Still loving despite all…
Hugs, from the western shores-pictured above,
Om (without o).
Tonight we present definitive proof of the fantastic nature of our previous post’s photo. Its hard to believe either could, in fact, be real. But we would really love if the second photo were.
I actually really like both images. .. how about you? Real or fake..
Hugs all around
O and om
earlier i wrote that sometimes we can only know ourselves by asking others who we are. after all, it is through others eyes that our place in the world is staged. not determined, albeit, but staged. it is in an outsider environment that our delusions, whatever they may be, can be mitigated by society’s and loved ones reality. i spoke with cam about a natural human desire to create what i dubbed “accurate impact”. approriate legacy. accurate history. despite respect. Accurate impact is about attaining a proper self (in the now, future, future perfect) in an ever changing world where human perspectives and recollection/historical records are as skewed as the topmost layer of ocean on a stormy day. reminding ourselves that our own self images can be even more skewed if allowed to run rampant without refrain.
Today im throwing that all away and saying that only we can know ourselves. whatever history dictates for us is irrelevant.
go beyond those layers that weve added as an existential buffer to the other layers weve all built atop layers weve skillfully fastened upon a mysterious mountain like number of secret extra layers created to beguile all earthly witnesses – lets call these profound layers “Personality”. now go beyond the next set of layers that are almost as much emotional as physical in their existence, almost as much reality as untouchable soul… lets call these layers “the subconscious”
now go beyond the next layers you find. those best described as a soft underbelly of pale pink flesh so slight, so minimal in existence that no one has ever seen or will ever see them. so remote and hidden that no one has ever spoken of them before. these layers are so thin the very pulse of our thoughts as they form in our bodies are visible through them. we cannot name these layers for they are so faint they could never be seen by the aided human eye.
now go even further. beyond one last layer – beyond the most succulent point of our visceral coverings. a final hidden, never before seen layer that only exists in the very breath of others that have passed in another dimension- the final layer that protects the most vulnerable parts of ourselves – and you will find a place we ourselves are scared to talk about.
this is where our truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth lies. a truth that perhaps we can hardly handle for the knowing of it.
vulnerable. exposed. real. raw. open. pure.
this is who we are.
only god is able to reach inside that point and scoop out what is contained there beyond all other layers . to hold it in his hands at once. to weigh it/ us against all other things. and against the very truth itself.
and only we are privileged to know what lies within us while still mortal. we are not able to weigh it. we are just able to feel it is there.
i had to ask myself today:
whens the last time you peeled back all of those protective layers. and examined your real self. in the comfort and quiet of your own thoughts. without distraction. or hope of a different reality.
who was it that you found there?
is that true self allowed to live freely in society?
is that true self the one you allow to wake and fulfill the day?
if not, how can you bring your true self to the forefront?
*of course odie has never had to ask or answer these questions. but i have.
O and OM
im terribly sad at this moment. and perhaps overly tired. stuck in this pattern of questioning
god made me an artist. but he also made it virtually impossible to do my art. i have little confidence in my work. i find it difficult to make time for it. im the worst procrastinator in the universe. i tire easily, im distracted by the slightest thing. i have trouble concentrating. i have trouble working through the painful difficult moments that being an artist means having to struggle through for any success. i must admit im terribly lazy. i dont appreciate my work or my talents. i find it difficult to share. and i cant believe im writing this blog and will soon hit the publish button.
i doubt that anyone will read this.
if theres a place that dreams go to live then there must be a place that dreams go to die. im very afraid that ive found that place where you bury your passions, forget your desires, trample your creativity, chastize your instincts to fly free, supress your spirit, and give in to reality.
im afraid that my real world responsiblity detour will be a permanent slide into the darkest depths of hell. the place that dreams go to die. many peoples dreams end up there. maybe most.
ill still post a happy picture. about where dreams go to live.
i still have hope. perhaps mine will go there too.
i dont want to depress him.
Sometimes you gotta like your own blog.