Pulled a quick Jim Carrey, no biggie.
In the process of creating the life I want. Whatever that means. I can’t put it in words, it’s not really about materials. I’m not my house, I’m not my clothes. I’m just a persona wandering around to see what I can learn. Apparently random disappearances from the blogosphere are my modus operandi anymore. I can’t write if I have too much I’m trying to understand. Yet, then I get backed up like a fat dude after an all you can eat Indian binge chased by a cheese party. I’ve got a lot on my mind, but I’m trying to pace myself.
As a Libran, balance is my biggest need and biggest weakness. I go balls to the wall and then collapse exhausted and generally depressed. My mind is what it is. I’ve just stopped fighting about it anymore. I’m on a journey to discover me. The true me before I learned all the things I wasn’t.
Most recently, I took myself alone to see A Perfect Circle. I’m tired of missing my life because I think I need to share it with someone. This stupid obsession with “the one” or even “twin flames” has cost me a lot of energy and emotion that I can’t spare anymore. The one may be out there, I don’t really care anymore because I found The One in me. That’s not to suggest I’ve been out chasing tail, either. For whatever reason, The Universe, in all her wisdom, has decided to bombard me with every ex I’ve ever had coming out of the woodwork. I’m still pretty new in detachment and all these sorts of good things, so my emotions did what they do, but I did what I do best now. Move the fuck on.
“The Big One” came back in October. The Big One is the dude most of my emo-etry (emo-poetry, because I’m clever) is about. I knew it was going to happen, I even knew what date, and what he’d say. Don’t ask me how I couldn’t tell you. But it came and went and I am here. The timing couldn’t have been more perfect because I stood gazing at the love of my life – Maynard James Keenan – and said goodbye to the illusion of the love of my life. I came home and I blocked all contact because I just don’t want it anymore. The old me thrived on feeling like shit, chasing love, and seeking validation from everything but her own inhales, exhales, and heartbeats. It’s not me anymore. The old me did not understand unconditional love, and the old me believed you had to suffer for love.
The new me doesn’t. The new me changes every day, really. The new me doesn’t really give a shit about anyone’s opinions, which is why I’m writing again finally. I don’t care anymore. I felt the last of it die off standing alone at a concert feeling more alive than I have in my entire life. I drowned in the beauty of Maynard all over again, and I finally came home to myself.
People do shit alone all the time. I’m not some sort of special snowflake in that, but for me, I almost missed my favorite band that fucking reunited out of the blue (clearly thanks to my lamentations of never gotten to see them live) because I didn’t want to go alone. I know there are people that nod their head and say “yeah I wouldn’t go alone”. It wasn’t acceptable to me. It wasn’t acceptable that I could miss seeing Maynard. I’m obsessed, I don’t care. When you have a band that profoundly changes your perception of yourself and all you hold “real”, you go see them live. Or you don’t, I’m not in charge of you. And that’s x3 with MJK, because TOOL, APC, and Puscifer woke everything up in me.
I would not have studied Buddha & Jung if it wasn’t for TOOL, I would not have stumbled into the world of the other love of my life – Alan Wilson Watts – if not for APC, and I wouldn’t be writing if not for Puscifer. You go see that band. I went and saw that band. You get rid of the parasites of your happiness when you know that you are the only vessel of your own happiness. You look in the mirror and you see the fractured yet whole mosaic of your success and failure has transformed you into the Phoenix painted on your back with the emblem of the band that saved your life.
Then you come outta the clouds and you start writing again because that’s why you are here.
Hey guys, what’s up?