A lot of times I don’t even know what I’m going to write about…but I sit down in front of the computer and all this shit just starts pouring out faster than I can type and I can hardly keep up with it. And then as I go along I discover things that I’m writing that I didn’t even know I felt and somewhere along the lines I discover all sorts of things I had no idea about myself until I articulate them and I find them just finding me. It’s always been like that. Just fucking catharsis. Writing makes you conscious. Makes you aware. And awareness is all just discovering awareness. We don’t even know what we’re not aware of. And writing begets writing. It’s always been that way too. And sometimes, just reaching towards consciousness makes you awake. And just listing what you are grateful for gets you there. Instantly changes your mind, your mindset, your state of being. I used to walk around Sicily next to that turquoise sea with a freshly baked $.50 loaf of bread in my hand and just recognize all of the amazing things that I had to be grateful for and I would just get high as a fucking kite off of that alone. Or maybe it was the bread. That fucking bread.
And this is good stuff to remember now. This is the right thing to remember now. That I can be loved. That I have been loved exquisitely and devotedly and outrageously. I’m worthy. That ridiculous crazy train that I got on when I was nineteen that never let up. That’s a good thing to remember. And not focus on the tragedies, focus on the way I was loved. Like the world was ending. That’s what I need to remember. I cannot fall into this trap of forgetting these things and thinking that I am less than I am. I am someone worth having.
Writing clears you out and makes it all real. The act of articulation is so powerful.
I wonder if I’ll ever get over my bullshit meter and just be able to do the things the world asks of me.
This is good. When I remember these men…Adam, Max and even Jeff…these men that so immediately wanted to marry me, one right after the other…and the way that they loved me…I feel strong as fuck. So that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna get myself back to being strong as fuck. And I’m gonna remember that. I’m gonna keep myself in this strength. I am not anything that ever flickers through the back of the insecure section of my mind. I am worthy of awesome love. We all are. But after all of this, after this crazy whirlwind…I’m ready to move slow. Step by step, piece by piece, no endgame in sight. No expectations. No pressure. Just floating. Just loving. Full heart, free road. I’m ready to just walk. No finish line. Just love.
I’m ready to have no idea where I’m going.
Fuck it I’m strong.