…and suddenly, I learn to let go. Perhaps it is a fleeting thing, that my sticky soul will catch hold of these obsessions once more, but just this moment, I am free of all things. I imagine that enlightenment is like this, to the nth power, and I wonder if I ever want to feel that weightless; but this is enough, I think even that it is better than I’ve ever had before; though maybe that is a remnant of the illusion. All my life, I have had such trouble in letting anything go — all those women that I loved, I imagine that in my heart that I never fell out of love with any of them. Or out of lust — or was it not even anything like that, not love, not lust, only addictions, any of them? Only raw obsessions? That I can imagine of myself, too, for when the madness came, it had fruitful ground in which to grow. Who is to know such things? We only understand what is before our faces, what is passing casually in our span of attentions, and imperfect is our comprehension of anything. So this moment: it must be enough.
…and the minute ticks, and it is over, back into the dwellings of the sad house of my soul. Back into the worldly cares, where my heart forgets exactly how for those seconds it managed to be desireless. Perhaps it shall return, the sensation that all things were — not that all was right with the world, but that the world understood me for that little space of time, and nodded to acknowledge my existence. I cannot consider that the feeling itself was an illusion, for it lacked any decoration, none of the hazy deliberations of dreams gone by. I think of it now, that I am earthbound once more, that time could not touch me for that little consciousness: I landed this quick, but it was not a crash down to the depths, for I knew what it was to be flowing with time for once, and not against it, and when I was released from release, my velocity was not sudden stop. Strange how things happen, here in the outer regions of the ordinary. Sometimes wonderful.
Scop
11:02pm sunday, 29th january
I have been unable to let go of my recent past, about a six month period of wellness, or recovery, something that seems now to have happened so long ago. And the less recent past seems to be repeating itself. Soon I must make a choice.
Reflection
1:27am monday, 30th january
Friend.
scribblings
3:34am sunday, 5th march
My present experience is that the more I connect with the infinite, the more I accept riding the storm, the fewer assumptions I can make, the less defined the future becomes, it is frightening.
Scop
Reflection