Dear Friends, Followers, Curious bloggers and faceless/nameless Google-ists from afar and the great beyond even further than wherever afar is:
My mind is flowing from place to place and face to face tonight as I remember many feelings and actions that once, and sometimes still, confused/confuse me. I´m remembering the people and places of it all.
I´m remembering how once upon a time, in my less sober time, I seemed to always need to be filling-up space, to be overflowing with activity in my life so ¨it¨ wouldn´t leave big voids and emotional blanks that would scare me if I stopped trying as hard as I could to be someone, or handsome, or fine and good...maybe you knew or know of that strident clutching for more-than-my-share of life too? It was suffocating the process of just living in the ¨right now.¨
I would grasp at the very next thing/thought I could attack to save myself from thinking about whatever that self-void, that inside hole, that pending betrayl was that haunted me and drove me so...don´t look back, just go, go, go. I ran!
I didn´t know why the ¨filling¨ up of life was so important...but ¨it¨ was important (vital). I didn´t know how to accept being ¨fully¨ present in reality without ¨doing¨ something to keep qualifying or fitting-in-it or smooching it until I couldn´t breath anymore and passed out (or the smoochie ran for cover).
I knew little of trusting in the world around me without grabbing at life, and many of you, by the edges of the greater energy around me as I insisted on projecting imagined success on-the-run that was mostly self-generated. I had to find a way to be me, to be ¨someone¨ or I might not ever be a full-fledged person...afterall, I had authentic *secrets* that I only shared selectively (even with me)...wasn´t I different? Wouldn´t you agree? I better get on with the fixing of me!
So I huffed and puffed and filled-in breaths of fresh air with whatever it took to run as fast as I could away from the spontaneous good that was always inside waiting for me to know *it* better...how confusing it would be to ¨be¨ for over two decades to not ¨be¨ simultaneously with existing as a forgery (mostly).
I couldn´t pull it off. I almost killed me trying to ¨be¨ a convulted me. I had to go natural. Native.
I had to face reality sober. I had to walk through the fears (and hate) that had tormented me...there was no longer anyplace/space to run or hide or grab, snatch, cover or thieve. It was impossible to pull off being the authentic me without letting me ¨be¨ more patiently . I surrendered to whatever is, to nature taking it´s course with me, to God of my understanding, to accepting good and also the real character inside of me. A custom job.
Gore Vidal died. I liked him (and in some ways he reminded me of the real me).
Peace be with you and with Gore Vidal too.
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