Now, here’s the reason, or perhaps I should say
this is another motivation
behind this journal.
The mind is the real trick.
This is how we lose to the different concepts
of thought; in which case, we can literally
think ourselves out of the best scenarios,
at least
I think so.
And the emotions we have,
well?
What about them?
The fact is
they are very basic and simple.
Feelings are not the same as emotion
and thoughts are not the same as feelings
or emotions yet,
people like to begin their sentences
with the words, I feel,
as if this is an all-embracing,
and all-encompassing idea,
which it’s not. . .
But still.
I feel too.
I have fears. I have insecurities.
I have subjects of inadequacy
and hang-ups about not being enough,
or worthy, or worthwhile enough
for someone else, to which,
I can see where Chaos took his toll and burrows in,
nice and deeply,
because everyone has a thought process
which can do one of two things.
Our thinking can either condemn us
or
set us free.
See?
I want to be free.
I want to be rid of the past
or the wreckage of things that I did
or said out of haste or fear, or insecurity
or out of pure selfishness
just to survive
or get by.
I want to be free from my irrational side,
to which, intellectually,
I understand that human math is simple;
however,
emotional math tends to complicate things
and next, we find that we add our thinking,
which multiplies in misguided directions
and this often divides us
from our best possible outcomes.
This is what becomes of us
when lost to a thought.
And so, now
going forward;
I take full responsibility, here and now,
for each of my downfalls
and each of my mistakes and more,
I take full responsibility for my actions
and for my overreactions
and for my fear-guided missiles,
which I launched out of fright; and so
in my own defense,
I created more destruction
and caused more pain than needed to be
and worse, I tripped the tripwire
and hence; I ended up in my own minefields
which appear to me as a magnified version
of an inaccurate scope called
emotional warfare.
And let’s face it:
All’s fair
in love and war . . .
Right?
Perhaps this is true.
But –
there doesn’t have to be a war anymore.
Did you know that?
There doesn’t have to be
the worst-case scenario
and the fights can end,
and, if we truly wan to
we can reset ourselves
and plan for a better future
(together).
There is the freedom and the right
and the ability to go and seek and to live
and to laugh but most of all,
there is the undeniable and most of all,
there is the inalienable right
to live the way we want to
and be happy.
No one has the right to take this away from us.
Including us,
for that matter.
We don’t have to live in the wrongs
or the past
or in the resentful phases of post-war arguments.
We can come to a truce;
at least within ourselves,
and “let go,” so-to-speak
and whether the past tensions are unresolved
or they are otherwise ongoing; still,
we can choose to move beyond this
and choose to wipe the slate clean—or lastly,
we can set ourselves free
from the overthought intrusions
that we tend to collide with, again and again,
and thus; we keep ourselves sick—or if not sick,
perhaps we keep ourselves, “pissed off!”
so-to-speak
because, of course, there’s the saying which goes,
“The first time you hurt me, it’s shame on you.
But the second time you hurt me,
it’s shame on me.”
And shame?
Shame is a real bitch
(sometimes).
I understand shame all too well
and more, I understand the back-and-forth tussles
and the love and the hate
and the fights and the ego
and the sense of foolishness
because, to be clear on this,
of all ideas to contend with,
there is nothing worse than the idea that perhaps,
I am a fool
or that I have been played for a fool
or that foolishly, I believed in a lie
or that somehow, everything that I thought
or believed was a lie, or not real
or that my belief was sucked away,
or vanished in plain sight,
and taken away by some eye-opening event,
which was hurtful to say the least,
or dishonest, or all too exposing
or in any other case,
there is nothing worse than the idea
which promotes the thought
that says, “perhaps I am an idiot,”
which, maybe I am
(at times),
but who isn’t?
(at times)
Thoughts trick us into battle
and send out an all-points bulletin
that runs throughout the wires in our body
and then comes the feelings,
which can range from happy, or sad, or nervous, and next;
with regards to the anticipation
or the worry or the fear that
“Something wicked, this way comes,”
we tend to send out a distress signal,
like some kind of internal S.O.S.
and this goes throughout the wires in our brain,
to which all the brain wants is to do is protect us.
Understand?
All the brain wants is to keep us
from repeating the process;
however, fears and concerns,
and overthought worries
can, in some way,
lead us back to an unwanted path
or a self-fulfilled prophecy,
And that sucks.
But it’s too late now.
War has been declared
so, we release the hounds.
We open the gates
and let go the dogs of war, and next,
we release the million foot soldiers
who march in the mind
and send them off to fight a battle
that never existed (yet) or needed to
and preemptively, we fire upon our world,
as if to shoot first
and ask questions later.
I don’t want to self-implode or explode
or burst upon the scene and more,
I don’t want to live or die alone
and certainly, the worst of all my fears,
is as follows:
and by the way,
here’s where I like to say how
“no one admits to these kinds of things,”
but in either case—I have to do this
for clarity,
if not, my own sanity.
I don’t want to be sick
or held to a boundary in my head
or follow a misbelief
that there is something faulty or wrong with me.
And lastly, I don’t want to live up
to someone else’s prediction of me
or believe what “they” say
about me.
And as for emotion,
this is our bodies chemistry.
This our circuitry
and this can be a sign of how our wires cross
or short circuit, or fray and burn out.
This is us,
chemically and then physically responding
to a series of information
which has been fed to us by a thought process;
who of course, has been inspired by the man, himself,
Mr. Chaos.
Out of curiosity:
Ever have a real panic attack?
Ever have an anxiety attack so bad,
that good God,
you thought you were going to die?
Pain in your chest.
Shortness of breath.
You fall to the floor and collapse
or perhaps lose consciousness for a minute.
Ever have this?
I hit the ground this time.
I thought that this was it.
I swore this was the end.
And all I kept thinking, and pleading was this:
Please don’t let me go this way.
Please.
I don’t want to die alone
or unloved . . .
Please, I have something I need to do first.
I have someone I need to love with all of my heart;
and should I be chosen,
and I mean really chosen;
as in to be the only one, and not shared by
or co-existing with anyone else
for the rest of our natural born life,
then let me overcome the burdens
and the barriers of my own misconceptions.
Let me do this
so that people like my old friend, Mr. Chaos,
will never keep me down again,
nor will I let him because, to me,
once I am free, then let me be free,
and once I can be me,
then let me realize what it took
to get me this far—this way,
I will never volunteer for this kind of captivity,
ever again.
I see what love is and truth
and more, I see loss and the pain of loss;
in solace and with a heartfelt mindset,
I understand that love might not fix
or conquer all –
but when people love and someone passes
I think to myself, their love
was unmistakable
and unmatchable
by anyone else in this world.
One day, I know my time will come
but –
if I am lucky,
or if the universe
is willing to smile upon me;
at least, or at minimum
someone will be there
to hold or console me
and tell me, you
are the love of my life.
Please . . .
I know that I am impure and
perhaps I am unworthy
but I am willing
and working
and with all of my heart,
I am waiting, in kind
to love you back with all of my heart –
forever.
En el nombre del Padre,
y del Hijo
y del Espíritu Santo,
que la paz y el amor
sean vosotros siempre y
para siempre ~
The Written Addiction 