the work

I've been in some dark places. No matter how much of the divine I consume, I'm always thrown back into the dirt. My eagerness to achieve that which is most holy is actually keeping me back in the dirt.

My desire keeps me from realizing what I desire.

I used to dream of flying- and I knew it was possible. The dreams kept me from realizing how I could actually do it. Sometimes the only way to fly is to jump. Let go of the earth to realize heaven. But it is exactly for that reason that we find we can't jump.

SO! What do I do? I get depressed. I throw my mind about in ways it ought not be thrown. You don't know how far you can really fall until you skim the clouds with your fingertips. The horror of decent actually speeds my fall. I clog up, lose that feeling, overcompensate and then... depression.

I think it is primarily my environment. I don't have anyone to talk to. Not dedicated anyway. My awake friends drift in and out of lucidity.

What is least favorable about my experience is that not only am I surrounded by suffering people, they feel the need to inflict their suffering onto me. I must suffer as they do or else it causes them greater pain. I think I should study more about Buddhism to learn how to deal with this kind of thing.

I think often about suicide. I could never do it, but the option gives me comfort. I have been told frequently that my options are limited depending on the circumstances. Perhaps I'm one of the few that sees the diversity of choice available.

And yet... and yet I'm fucking stuck. Just have to keep it together. It's nearly my 22nd birthday and I'm moving back in with my mom and her boyfriend. I can't believe it.

I don't know anymore. Never did, really. I can see this beautiful patchwork, but I can't find a suitable way to fit inside it.