Stream of thought2011-04-05 at 10:59 am Blog RSS
I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. I know I’m others guilty secret. I’m good with either I suppose. I know I’m a tortured man; by his own mind, never society. I’ve learned the art of faking in relation to my surroundings. I know I’m and sick and disgusting to some. That’s ok as well. I crave that at times. Pushing just a little further than some of you pious fucks can handle. My cock rages hard at it even, sometimes. Then I have to ask, is my true sickness feeding on the sickness itself or reactions there to it. Is it my justification, no, my goal, to push it because I am broken? Or is all because I only thrive when I’m considered not normal?
Some ask why I post the pics I do. I suppose I love the tortured nature of them. My famous avatar speaks volumes to me. Always black and white folks…it just isn’t classy if it’s in color. Then it becomes, well, porn. But, it symbolizes something beautiful yet tortured in my brain. The beauty comes from the total lust that comes from it, enjoyment, and sexual activity. The torture from the physicality of the acts portrayed itself; chains, hanging, blinded, whatever.
Feeling unworthy of unconditional love, there’s an issue. So, maybe I think it has to be earned in some way. Always! Or is that to get the sweetest rewards one must go through pain to achieve it? After all, what is the reward if it isn’t earned? If everything is just expected…thought to be deserved..well then we lead to gluttony don’t we? Hummm, lots of people have issues there..or with entitlement.
But other times, not a single of these thoughts approach my mind. It’s often heavier in meditation and double vodkas, or back alley blowjobs..heh, I jest.
But in reality, when it’s all said and done, all you end up with is me. Just me. And, I suppose some of you like to pick and choose which parts. And so, I suppose the hidden poison is in the very fact that you can only have all of me, not parts of me. And to add to that I suppose everyone always has/will only want the parts rather than the whole. It leads to the, well, funk I live in at times.
But I give you this, despite all the baggage, despite all the imperfections; I think my higher power wants it all. Whatever he/she/it may be.
I’ve been deep inside myself as of late. I enjoy it there. I have many thoughts and conversations to keep myself company for years.
Trust me when I tell you, I feel your pain more than you know. Trust me; I feel your sadness more than you know. I bask in your happiness far more than the average Joe ever will. I love you on a spiritual level that most can’t comprehend.
This was said in the closing of a show the other night…and it hit a nerve…
“ Someone once said…Our lives are the sum total of our experiences…. But it’s not experiences….. it’s the people. Not just the ones in our lives…but those who play through….all the fly-by, small, but rich relationships…Sometimes they’re the most special of all. It’s why we always promise to keep in touch. If only we did…if only we did…”
And so, I do ponder the play troughs more than the mainstays..a lot. I can recall vivid details about just a few souls that have touched me, if only for mere minutes, never to be seen again. I wonder where life has taken them. I wonder if they ever have a fleeting thought of me or of past situations as well. I wonder if they have attained happiness. Even you guys, locked in my internet world, cross my mind daily, at some point.
This blog has no point. It’s just random stream of subconscious that I have allowed to come forward.
I’d surely be in denial if I said much of what I feel now in my life, much of what I wonder doesn’t involve in some way the passing of my brother. It has changed the way I view moments. People. Life. After-Life.
In the end, it leaves me with the quest and thirst that I learn to be happy with me, the whole of me. I cannot leave this world unhappy, wanting, yearning for something. I cannot continue to always feel some sort of discontent inside of me. I MUST attain satisfaction with myself. I have to have that sign that in the end, I am worthy. In the end, I have to have some sort of gained knowledge that I have risen above my humanity itself. Of knowing that I am okay and not a mere freak of nature.
Anyway, I have rambled enough and in the end prolly didn’t make much sense. It’s okay, par for the course. Sometimes I just have to get things on paper if only for myself.
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