déjà vu

today is my awakening. it feels like a new birth. it feels like a moment of truth. but i'm also clouded in this dream i've had a million nights prior. so why is this one real? it feels like a dream. i need a grounding. i need a line to pull myself back in. like an astronaut drifting pleasantly away. i'm suddenly jerked to a more terrifying reality: what if i wake up again? what if this ends like every other dream.

tonight is a moment of truth. this week is a moment of truth. this holiday season will be a long moment of truth. man, truth is scary as hell.

i don't want to slip into drama, but i hope i can be new again. thats the thought that is pounding in my head. with every single pulse that hope is giving me life. its this idea of waking from dream that feels so so real. like vanilla sky, you know? i wouldn't feel this way if i hadn't already dreamed today over and over. and now its happening like a deja vu.

i can feel my own body. i can voluntarily think whatever i wish. i can stand up and walk into a new room. i can choose all of these things, and that tells me that "the now" is real. however, anything that i think or do i am almost entirely convinced has happened before. its eerie. and its strange. i need something to connect me with the ground. but at the same time, i'm almost more afraid to just "snap out of it." i feel like there is so much riding on this moment that i can't just abandon it.

and now i realize that i must sound like i've taken a few pills, smoked some vegetation, or ingested some fungi... but i assure you, the reader, that i have not. existence just seems to be having its way with me and i'm having a little trouble adjusting.

oh man, i really need to stop writing but i feel like THIS is my anchor. THIS is connecting me to something so that I don't drift away into a vacuum.

ya, its happening... i feel like i should write "help" but that won't matter by the time anyone reads this... and whoever is reading this. "i'm sorry you felt you had to read this."

end.

dal mio cuore e nei vostri orecchi

how do you write the words that
a million hearts have already sung
while a million hearts sang along?
how can you make that new?

it occurs to me that those hearts
they don't have a clue
and those words
they aren't nearly as true.

because they weren't written for you

desire and fulfillment

Art.

It's something I feel. It's something so deeply embedded in my being. I need it. It's fulfillment of a desire to express. It's the appreciation of another's desire fulfilled.

But it is also elusive. I'm stuck somewhere in the tension between desire and fulfillment. For writers its called writer's block. I don't know what you call it for anyone else. I'm one of those people that when I reach out my hand I don't know whether it will grab a guitar or a pen. And if I touch my pen to paper, I don't know whether it will write or draw. Sometimes I feel without a niche. But other times I just feel lucky. Right now I feel stuck.

Between desire and fulfillment.