write it down

Hair parted as curtains to a quiet inside
A sleeping animals quiet
Feeling the presence of a sleeping fawn
Not knowing where it is curled in wet grass
Wet and dense like a slow sleep
Heavy legs striking knees striking ankles
Muscle holding tendons holding bones
“Ill grow my hair long just to cut it short again”
Rifling aimlessly
Large copper rod windchimes
Bumping eachother in the day-night pre-dawn
Your teeth scrape every utensil on the way out of your mouth
Somehow your mouth is kinder
And more open to me

Im second guessing every word that ive said in the past 7 days seriously. In a way that clearly so clearly feels unreasonable?? Inaccurate?? Simply not based in the reality of realities that we share? I feel like every word i have said recently is hanging in the air and that none of it is landing?? I feel like theres so much more that i want to say and it doesnt feel like the righ time for any of it??
As i said this out loud on this paper i literally envisioned myself stuffing bread and butter into my face. What the fuck
This stuff goes so deep my god damn digestive system is the one who ultimately has to feel the brunt of my process. It doesnt feel right to put it into words but i also dont want to fucking think about stuff like this any more than ive already given space to it in my head.
I feel like ive been waiting for the things to end! Il start something and clearly visualize the end– the culmination of the thing in my mind, and the whole process of the becoming of this action is pre released into the visualization of the carrot of the end. BUT THERES SOMEHOW NO CARROT??? And even if there was i feel like im in the place of denying and saying oh no no not me im not hungry does anyone else want the carrot???
And this is it.
This is the crux of it
This is when the space between my skin and my heart becomes uncomfortable:
When the fruit that i had visualized has arrived – and when the action that i have labored over is distracted entirely by the projection of its end – that i am estranged from the fruit as well as estranged from the action.
Its the whole the destination is in the journey thing– except there is no fucking destination at all.
The materializations of the product of the actions that i take somehow feel acutely not mine. Yes i sent you the money – yes i started the spring cleaning – yes i threw the plant over the balcony and it exploded like a powder puff on the asphalt sidewalk. But the sense of finishing and completion is consistently mentally aborted eVEN IN THE PRESENCE OF THE PRODUCT IT HAS PRODUCED.
I still have to make more money so later i can send you more money – i still have to finish the spring cleaning, and i have to delegate the tasks which are too much for me to do myself, and i have to let everyone know what everyone will be doing, and go to the trash bins, and buy a swiffer and and and and and infinitum- the plant throwing was really satisfying and it really needed to be off of the 4th floor balcony, now i have to go clean it up in the cover of night so nobody associates me with this mess. In doing so i am alienated from the mess!! I am hiding myself in hiding the mess!!

UGUGHGHUHGGUHGHUGHOKAUDHAGU,H

I feel weird. This morning i felt angry. Now i have to go ask my coworker to explain something either today or tomorrow with how to do a complex task that is already something i should have a command of doing but that i dont. I dont. And truthfully right now in this moment i dont WANT TO. I DONT WANT TO KNOW. I DONT WANT TO LEARN. I dont want to configure the data migration and the flow and the assignments and the subtypes i dont want to!!! But mostly i just dont want to talk.
I dont want to ask and i dont want to be heard and i dont want answers.
I feel like every compliment someone gives me about how its good that i asked or i really actually know well how to do this or i have helped them or i am beautiful or whatever is a nicety that i would much rather be spared!!!!@

I dont remember feeling this level of self doubt, anxiety and inferiority in quite some time.

Crazy beans dude.

Well thats how it goes i think. And its cool. Im not going to finish this journal with a why this fits into gods plan or the universal will or why im stronger now than i was before because i dont even want placations from my own damn self. xoxoxoxo

An issue arises in the world when humans do not feel like their life, actions, creations are an extension of themselves. It has been called estrangement, isolation or in the case of marx: alienation. Marx– approaching the phenomena from a class and economic dialectic is foundational in many ways– but looking into the essential aspects of human inertia and natural propulsion to create from a metaphysical perspective is also relevant. The idea of humanism and philosophy thusly is not considered a directly “metaphysical” realm of thought– but one of humanity's most innate (and alienated) elements of being is this sixth sense in relation to the energetic and subtle worlds. So the estrangement we feel from ourselves and our universe in regards to creating or expressing is not only a matter of repression and diversion from “productivity” of labor or material- but a separation between man's sense of autonomy, faith, and hope (concepts which, while existing in the physical realm are largely metaphysical principles). I In turn, humankind has created modern day relationships with religion and institutionalized them so that they may have a recognizable, justifiable presence in the material world and society we share. We have taken Jesus out of our spirits and placed him again on the cross. Begging the truism; they know not what they do. (insert narrative on education from previous chapters, the fallen, institutionalization and operation within the system of oppression as a form of pre-modern rebellion and revolution, maaaaaybe expound on institutionalization of religion from protestantism to catholicism– slave coopting of christianity and reclamation)
And this may be true in some cases– but largely this call to full realization of human potential, a metaphysical awakening spreading at the community level of the world is calling, aching to be KNOWN. Which means that we are having, to return to the marxist foundation in a new light, generations of people who do not dream of labor in any capacity of the structures who currently organize and institutionalize modern labor. These people are not lazy or tepid or uncommitted to the human cause– and many are not nihilists. The removal of labor from the dream of our shared humanity is due to the estrangement from self and subsequent suffering that is being produced on massive scales from the foundational enmeshment of labor to social workings.
The expansion of “the gig economy” – “side hustles” – resurgence of “small- businesses”, “black-owned, women-owned, palestinian-owned businesses” – “permaculture-homesteading” – “van-life” – “nomadism” that has been introduced to individuals in modern society on the level of the sharing of ideas has been also immense. These innovations and new ideas as well as revisiting previously important values have become put into ACTUAL PRACTICE in recent years- definitely the past decade (circ. 2015). IE. You buy your produce locally, your meat from your neighbor's animal, your water from the stream, your friend who is a fantastic cook takes care to cater your wedding. These trends and ideas and values have not been acted on or reincorporated into life because the modern system of labor or social safety has opened up and given us more freedoms– quite the opposite. But because, “here's a time when the operation of the machine becomes so odious, makes you so sick at heart that you can't take part! You can't even passively take part! And you've got to put your bodies upon the gears and upon the wheels, upon the levers, upon all the apparatus -- and you've got to make it stop! And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it -- that unless you're free the machine will be prevented from working at all!!.”- Marco Savio (of the Free Speech Movement and Berkley Riots). (expand on popularization of alternatives from a cultural level, estrangement from connection to expression (sound ie, public silence, stifling, social isolation from a vocal standpoint,, the arts and arts funding), connection to the natural world (air quality, grass, greenspaces)

I do not mean to suggest that “van life” or “side hustles” will stop the apparatus. I do not mean to imply that all people on earth in its current configuration have the ability to stop working entirely or stop engaging with the systems of oppression that have inserted themselves so critically into human survival that one with children can forego interacting with state benefits for WIC, or can forego asking their employer for a salary advance or can never endorse corporate businesses again (Walmart, H&M, Sysco, Exxon). I mean to say that the seizing BACK of the means of PRODUCTION is NOT exclusively in regards to the material production under institutions of labor. Creating space in the human psyche to daydream– to take five minutes of silent repetitions of self worth in the car on the way to pick up a prescription – to use the instrument in the house collecting dust – to write one haiku every day – to hold the hand of your dying father by his bedside for as many hours as it takes for him to pass – THIS is the reclamation of ourselves which has been estranged. Because the cultivation of relationships, creation and rituals are elements of our humanity which we must reunite with ourselves if we are to live. These acts are metaphysical; they stretch us to the atmospheres of our own psyches, they introduce us to ourselves.
And subsequently when we make space for this essence in our lived experience, it EXPANDS. And pushes away the toxicity of the systems which energetically drain us from something so innate. The more we value our individual and collective remembering, unifying and creating, the more the oppression is phased out. Not just of our mentality in the sense that “Oh now i can fulfill my wage slavery happily because i have god.” or “this is divine retribution, my cross to bear.” – but because the structures of entrapment fundamentally fall away when the human realizes their ultimate freedom. (expand on concept of field of focus, perspective, psychology of resilience and artistic expression, studies of ageing and companionship data, community building from a mutual aid perspective)
This “ultimate freedom” is the freedom to dream, to create, to cheat the system and escape with the house cash of our domestic abusers, to take the kids and go live with grandma– to plant a seed. And these seeds will grow. Grow into ancient trees who will see us through the rest of our free lives. Do you know how disruptive are the roots of a strong old tree? A parking lot will never stand a chance– as long as the trees also stand.

death coming forward and stepping back
rocking into the forum and tallying the votes
on a horse- rocking

smother me in the way that i like
where i can breathe with drama
and dive back to your black hands.

its nice to feel a cool touch
and an embrace so deep it must be the end.

and because it is the end that we share,
in knowledge and sorrow aware,
that we share it together-
we have opened up our moaning and our wailing.
the walls keep them, as walls do.
thick and cold they smother too.
I breathe seven feet under in an upside down canoe.
I could float through the dirt if i wanted to.

but for a moment i look up
and love my burial.
a retreat into the solemn familiar
i breathe alone
until we breathe together.
the urgency has left to make our breathing mean anything.
we see that most of the time
a breath in is an involuntary response-
a vaccum animate.
that almost all of the time follows
a breath out-
a void pending animation.

now our atmospheres have different contents.
o2— c02— N
it is not that i cannot breathe on your planet-
its just that i must dig a terrarium of myself and my canoe
into your earth.
death helped me dig this.
and for you on my planet-
its not that you can not breathe its that you must ascend
percariously high-
where my atmosphere thins-
in order to catch a glimpse.
and death has given you a terrible fear of heights.

deaths solutions, his helps
are not tools, they are sentences.
he sentenced me to
“The Suffocation of Underneath”
and you to
“The Axphyxiation of On Top”
We were thankful just to be on the same planet- for the most part
to be touching- for the most part.

To fight the sentence of death- that we could not accept,
Is to fight eachother- until theres nothing left.
And when frigidity took
and our love shook
We took solace in the final rest.

— I want to dig a hole to another universe! Clean through!
— And i want to float far enough away, where there is no memory of you!

We have it now
the same thing our own.
My how you've grown.
Come so many worlds
Since you left home.

In the dark quiet where everything has a hue of blue cold and like veins shrinking away from the deeper body and revealing themselves under a thin skin
The opposite of an olive tone- no gold rosey radiance
Vision blurred and swells in lines- which usually blur and swell in waves concentric spherical
It is not sharp but alone
Heavy- a wet stone i rest in the downy riverbed
It is everything I thought it would be
But i am uncomfortable as only me
The intensity of red light has long left my field of vision
The recognized colors are only a memory
A felt sense
A clip from a faraway lifetime of ours
It was cold there too, and heavy
Even heavier maybe than now
And the recollection is my lullaby
I sing of my tears as they fill the bed and the river too
And rest now in gratitude that my tears have gone dry