Explore the discussion of this chapter in ESC_KEY NOTES: Cosmic Consciousness
She’s as nearby as she’s always been. Perhaps it’s a relationship with Jesus Christ I’m seeking. I don’t think so. I think it’s physical drenched in sensual hot sauce. I’m ready. I’m not ready. I’m not seeking. I need her to be seeking me too. When she finds me…
Well, here’s the thing. I’m transforming my life right this very minute. Each day I get closer to the person I aspire to be. I’ve been striving my entire life, since 7th grade, when I began to write short stories and science fiction novel beginnings. I really liked designing the covers of the books I was writing. Or, going to write.
I’m writing now, motherfucker. Where are you?
I am intentional about the creative process. It’s time to get serious about the business end. Monetization. I see, it’s going to take money to make money. Fame is expensive. Perhaps the girl on the moon is waiting to discover me. Somehow, we are together, yet. She is out of frame.
I look up at the stars and moon at night, pray to some god or my dead mom. My sister must be up there too. She’s so essential to understanding who I am and who I want to become. I am becoming. I have arrived.
I can say without reservation, I’m a poet, a musician, a writer, a content creator. I am broadcasting on all channels, hoping to reach through the noise of today’s unrest and strife. What point is there in books? How can writing change anything?
Well… Okay… Except… It has changed everything about my life. I’ve transformed my own journey from disarray and depressive bouts, to something more manageable and sustainable. I don’t need to be a rockstar. I am a writer. I need time to write. Ideas to write about. The energy to keep writing. The health to live a long time. Seems like a likely equation for success to me. It’s not if, it’s when…
Today, a woman is not the fulfillment I’m hoping for. She can wait. I see her up there, alongside my other gods. I desire and I desire and I desire. I take heart in the strength of my desire. Never stopping. Sure, pauses for emotional collapse, but I am locking that down as well. I have learned all I can from being flat on my back in an anxiety swirl. I may have sadness, slips, and falls. I will no longer pay heed to the things that create pain and chaos.
She is not ready. I am not ready. God is not ready. I do think god, or Jesus, or the Holy Spirit is in my back pocket. I’m just not sure how to address them. I’m doing my work. Walking forward into the tough stuff. Asking hard questions of everyone around me. I can feel the loosening. The noose is still tight, but I’m hopeful relief is coming soon. A job. A loan. A release from this pressure point, this crisis point, an inflection away from pain and suffering, into acceptance and letting go.
I’m not letting go of my dream. I do want a woman. The women who expresses, “I’m a mess right now,” or “I’m too overwhelmed to start a relationship,” is a no. A hard no. Stop.
Stop seeking. Start being. Be more. Be rested. Be honest. Suffer the fools only as long as is absolutely necessary. They are all around. Burning down the structures of American life. That’s too high, out of my reach. I don’t want to be a politician. An artist is more my speed. An artist with an opinion. Ha ha. That sounds funny. I love George Clooney, who doesn’t, but he’s having little impact of rerouting our country out of the swamp. The swamp they said they would drain has been filled with Faux News crocodiles and coyotes. Full of lies, tricks, and debauchery.
I’m no longer available for the bullshit of others. I’ve got my own bullshit to deal with. I’m navigating my own ascention. It’s not to political power. Nope. It’s not even to power. More of a release. A pause. A rest.
Oh shit, except for my current job, my life is perfect. Even without a partner, I am happy to come home each night. Two cats, Sid and Hunter ready for a snack. What more could I ask for? “Living with ease” is my current state. I can be bummed about the low pay, the disrespect and lack of leadership. I can survive. I will proceed according to plan.
Time to keep pressing. Now, include the marketing side I do for everyone else. Music albums I released and then didn’t promote. Books of poetry with no “readings.” Time to uncover myself. Discover my new voice. Show my new teeth.
She will hear.
