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Scrambled cities: If you're not gonna do the work(on your soul), then you might as well work til you die

 There are two tiers in normal life. Those who are survive and those who thrive.  But nothing is a mistake in life: Nothing comes by chance. You have to prepare for it.  If you thought life was about making money and beating out the Jones's, you've lost already.  Life is: Desire for connection. All unhealthy competition is isolating. We live in an isolated-enough world already. This connection comes from a surprising place: Self-acceptance. A lot of us need to go back to the classroom. A lot of us need to take a silent breather and check in with what we need. This takes serious work. It's the real work. It relies on respect for others and self-respect.  A lot of people in the self-help community try to push the self aside: Manning up is the only side of it they see. But there are certain non-negotiables in this life. Certain things we can't cheat ourselves out of. We are not a piece of meat being acted on.    However, this is where God comes in. Some o...
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Bootstrapping stuff together

 After the fallout of my last breakup, I had lumps of poisonous material stuck in my veins. It was the nuclear debris of things that can't explain. I had to form a whole new vascular structure, but before that time, I could feel my heart straining away at a system of knots. It was like I could never blow through the damn stuff. It felt like I never would. And even now I feel weak somehow. As if I've got to climb a mountain to get back to where I was supposed to be. 

This brings me to right now, where no matter what I dream, there's a sky that doesn't accept my prayers and dreams anymore. It's all blocked like a massive sheet of steel. And I shamble along and scramble along some days, but it's never fluid, and everyone sees it, and everyone knows that I'm a veritable Howls' Castle of bootstrapped rooms and doors and parts that don't seem to fit quite properly. 

This brings me to the girl I've been interested in lately. I sent her a letter in the post, and the way I did it was by sending scattershot letters to addresses I didn't know saw her face. It was the old life-force that gave me the energy, and I was hoping for a reinvestment into it, but instead what I got was and angry reply on the Line app with 3 Line bears having their heads ripped off or being slammed by poles. She couldn't see her way to accepting them as normal. 

And even now as I wake up after a vascular-constrictive dream, where nothing fits together and I'm all alone because I'm 37 about to turn 38, I'm alone in a room full of rich people; belonging nowhere in my own dream and shambling along as if there's no breakthrough in the near horizon. I invite people to go places with me but they don't go. I'm there for entertainment value but no one ever seems to place a value on me beyond that.  


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