We are now entering a sacred space, in space and time. Just for me. I am the only being in existence right now. Everyone else is frozen, in a bubble of healing rest. I am questioning whether or not this is a helpful visual. I worry that I am a toxic, self absorbed, trash person. And I would like to let go of that. I think that’s my mom. I think that’s my grandma. I think that’s my sister. I think that’s being terrified, deep down, of being my dad.
So we’ve established that fear is a part of my existence right now. It’s actually everywhere. I’m in a horror film, and the scariest part of it all, is that no one will ever watch. Or maybe, everyone’s watching. I am tired of explaining that I’m losing my mind. I’m a losing a mind that kept me imprisoned. I’m losing a mind that kept me complacent. I’m losing a mind that kept me obsessing, and shaming, and always, always striving. Go on, then. Get lost.
I’m listening to a fascinating album called “Biocic Music — the earth” by Toshiya Sukegawa. It started out cosmic, sparkling, and optimistic, and it’s now funky and primal and eerie.
I feel funky and primal and eerie. And maybe I need to embody that for a time. My shadow would like a seat at the table. That is very clear.
I like a boy and if I don’t talk about it, I will explode. I think he’s a gorgeous being. I really do. I can’t explain what happens to me when I want someone. I become so enamored. And I think I miss the point sometimes. But he’s soft, and firm. Everything about him feels so soft, but there’s this unyielding backbone to him. He seems to know himself on a level that is very beautiful to me. I don’t know myself like that. Not quite like that. I think I might be sort of his opposite in that way sometimes. I present myself like I know myself, I try to be firm, but the softness is always oozing out of me. The willingness to comply, to change, to accept, to let go. I am all soft inside. I don’t truly care for anything sometimes. But I also feel I care for every particle at others. I’m a confusing and constantly changing expression. I would like to spend more time around his firmness, his gentle firmness. His accepting, discerning, and deeply caring firmness. I am actually enchanted by him. And I really don’t care what anyone else thinks. But I will address that I have cared at times. And Clay in particular has poked and proded and stifled a bit, the feelings that were growing naturally. Now I feel much anxiety regarding the boy, he doesn’t need a name, because he’s much more than a name. I would like to feel free again, like it’s just the two of us again. I sort of feel watched and judged and like every time I’m with him it’s my only shot or something. Just a lot of pressure. A lot of confusion right now.
I sort of don’t know which voices to trust. Except for that I know exactly which voices to trust, I just haven’t had much practice.
And then there’s the gender, the gay, the self doubt, the body dysmorphia. I wear it around. I am stifled under it. I feel like if I don’t look like the girls in the movies, no one will want me in the end. I feel like if I allow my masculine energy to flow naturally, I will scare everyone away. I will be a predator, and I understand why. I have to sexualize my masculinity or I deem it unnecessary. If I can’t make it sexy, or kinky, then I don’t want it. I don’t want it’s calm, protective, powerful, adoring energies. I feel the most selfless when I embrace this masculinity. I’m scared of it. It’s like a superpower I wasn’t prepared to have. It makes me want to hold people, and actually listen to them. And say “sick, you’re hot” sometimes. I’m nervous that it’s unacceptable. That it’s obvious, that I look ridiculous trying to hide it.
