Now the ocean on my back feels calm to the touch
Smoother sailing for them all
But everything still flows down here
Where I shiver beneath them….
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Now the ocean on my back feels calm to the touch
Smoother sailing for them all
But everything still flows down here
Where I shiver beneath them….
Today, everything feels different. A bit muted or muffled. Closer to “normal”, manageable. When things are getting out of control, everything feels so big. Extreme. Like a catastrophe, the strength of some kinds of bad feelings that are hard to pinpoint and describe. I’m starting to recognize the “healthier”, or more balanced kinds of days. I imagine the way things feel on these days is more like what normal/healthy people are feeling. For a broad example, thinking about all the unknowns and inevitable losses of future decades — in bad times, this feels so horrendously unmanageable, it’s a physical sensation I can’t describe and a near-terror level of fear that I will become “stuck”, unable to manage whatever happens or ending up in some miserable situation I can’t reverse. Sometimes to near panic levels of fear, dread. That, or awareness of my difficulties with connections/socializing/whatnot feels like something I just can’t get past. I think this gets into that “trance”-like territory I talked about before, that suicidal people describe when they’re in that moment. Once they get into that, it takes time for it to pass and the further into the trance you get, the less the conscious strategies work…
Late spring Sunday brings
stranger’s fingers down my cheek
from across the sea
Here, today I stayed
I stayed angry
But I stayed
…
Your books are not my religion.Your heroes are not my religion.Your psychedelic trips are not my religion. Your buildings with magnificent steeples orbuttresses or sculptures or paintings or scrollsare not my religion. Exercise is not my religion.Kindness is not my religion.Food is not my religion.Dreams are not my religion.Ritual is not my religion.Respect is not my religion.Psychosis is not my religion.Memories are not my religion. Your imagination is not my religion.Your hopes, your needs are not my religion. Others are not my religion. Neither are you.Neither am I. This journey is not my religion,for nothing here is sacred andnothing here whispers infallible truths gently in my ear andnothing here presents itself to me, powerful and steadfast,as proof undeniable of what lies beyond the limitsof our understanding of the mysteries. May 12 – 14, 2026
“You’re my best friend.” she repeated, for the hundredth time if for the second. “You’ve come so far in two years, but there’s still so far to go. I just wish…”
….
I remember
It’s not a shiny little pebble
It’s a dull rock
Hard and brutal
….
Spring moon hidden, dark:
Under tumultuous black waves
Thrown pebbles vanish
Waves still rise and fall
Anchors begin dissolving
I begin to drown
I’m on a train.
I like the rumbling, the shaking and swaying.