Why the fuck not. Let’s just put all this fucking shit that I have written. There’s fucking… whatever theshit. This is my stuff. This is the stuff that I started writing about.
14th August 2018
I am vague. Because I am endless.
I am a lot of things. Mostly contradictory and complex. It is both a delight and a curse to be me. How I feel about existence really depends on a lot of things that are all temporary and transient.
I have a lot of ideas and I struggle to pin down anything because … there are so many and they are always changing.
Speaking in indefinite terms on such broad and general “ever eternal” topics, in relation to specific and definite things… is so fucking annoying. Because it’s impossible to line them up in a way that makes any sort of sense. The mind and soul cannot be measured so therefore it is pointless comparing them to the physical body. Not even comparing… just… relating…
I am infinite in force but finite in form. I am infinite in possibilities but finite in direction. I am infinite is opportunities but finite in time. I am infinite in capabilities but finite in energy.
There’s so much I want to do and so much I can do and so much I have to do and so much only I can do. I know there’s more to existence than just “me”. Others exist too. And I want to give. I want to give of myself to them. But I can’t just “give” indefinitely without also …. someone or something giving back to me. It’s my struggle to reconcile the “infinite/finite” problem. As soon as I figure out something, time or energy is depleted and I have to give up and let go of… something, anything. I have to sacrifice something from somewhere. But no one else picks it up whatever I’ve let go of. How could they possible even pick it up if they don’t see it or don’t know about it? I don’t even know if they give a shit enough to ask. I keep saying please ask questions if there’s something you don’t understand or don’t know. But no one asks so I don’t tell them. Well… no one ever asks about me, what would help me, what could they do to help me, what could they do for me. I mean… I don’t know.
People are easy to figure out an understand. I always ask questions about what I don’t know. I wish people would ask me questions. I could give them opinions, perspectives, information… the scope as broad as their inquiry, the specificity of the response as pointed as the question. Conversations are great as they are am open conduit for exchange of information, often leading way to inspiration.
I am goddess. I am muse. I am magician. I am mortal. I am light and I am dark, and I am a myriad of shades and tones in between.
Sleep to hard-reset
Once upon a time I knew exactly who I was, and I recognised the immense power and potential within me. I was able to create magic not only for myself but for others, and I was able to bend the world to my will. I recognised the necessity for all of my limitations and the ramifications unto the world if I be without them.
I was slain and had to rest. I had to sleep to heal. And in this coma of sleeping and healing I have forgotten what I had learned… Like a dream, it has faded into distant memory. And like a dream, I question if it existed to begin with. Do I follow the breadcrumbs again? Or do I not? I cannot waste my energy and might chasing the same damn tail over and over again only to have it removed from my grasp each time. A different approach must be taken and if the findings remain still true, then I will know it was always true.
This is where I think I began. Or this is what I had at the beginning….
I have a thing for words. I enjoy learning of esoteric topics. Numerology, astrology, symbolism, tarot, divination. I’m good at maths and at writing. I want to create but lack creativity. I like psychology. I’m complex and contradictory. I want to give. I want to be given to. I like to teach, I like to learn. I am an educator. I like magic. I like role play. There are probably more but I don’t remember their importance? This list is not exhaustive.
Categories: Learn something