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20 January 2017 @ 12:46 am
will our story shine like a light or end in the dark  
1. we are experience, coming into form. we are form, seeking out new experience. the experience is on it’s way, the experience will be here shortly. the experience is coming into form. as for us:

2. we are moving out onto the surfaces, into the fringes, into the borderlands. we are ever moving out from center, because that is what we are supposed to do: move away from our origins, move out into the world. lose ourselves to ourselves, to failing expectation, forgetting what matters, what we need, who we thought we would be, imagining ourselves from the sweetness of center: gifts become vices, what nourishes us becomes what we are addicted to, what we barely let ourselves have, what we are drowning in. so for me, physical intimacy. altered states. the pleasures of motion, of contact, of alignment, of diving deeper. the pleasure of expressing something, of having something to express, of having someone to receive that expression and return it in their own way. the pleasures of the body. these things have been damaged for me, so much of my life has been spent negotiating the lack. sex was the most urgent - “surprisingly,” i wrote first, when i clearly meant unsurprisingly:

3. sex was the life-or-death matter, that thing i most needed to pull together a plausible, workable place of restoration for: sex is what i altered gravity in order to save. thankfully, eventually, found a partner i could trust enough to stabilize myself with, so i could finally begin to explore, move out from center. until we found one another, i was working my path of steel-re-enforced abstinence. not because i was afraid of sex, but because i couldn’t seem to protect myself from getting raped. that’s the thing about rape culture: it silences. it stops. it self-perpetuates. it most harms those of us willing and able to work sex in a transformative way, in a healing way; it makes us more walking wounded who either fold in on themselves and die of starvation or expel themselves meaninglessly in excess. neither situation is prudish. neither situation is debauched. it’s simply two of the typical ways the injured cope with their injuries. it's simply two of the typical forms our stories take. another way i do it: by telling stories. by re-routing killing trajectories. i’ve saved paul through my words so many times over the course of this last year, though i never use his name. i've saved others, sometimes those in no need being saved. i’ve remapped relationships, changed one telling variable. if, you know? if only. what if? i don’t know. i don’t know. i don’t.

4. it's that place where want becomes addition. it's that place where desire remains unrealized as the first stirrings of love:

5. it’s me with less information. it’s me without an important experience. it’s me before i worked at quest. before i started at livejournal. before i’d actually understood anything about the ways in which i was already working magic. it’s me, long before i became who i am. before, became, because. such different words, but then again, not really. before i became who i am because that’s what my experience used to be, that’s who i was when i was so much closer to center, when i still had a few whiffs of that new incarnation smell. back when i was so incredibly ignorant of cancer and, believe it or not! the cruelty of others. i thought every friend would stand by me in my breakup with someone who had clearly proven themselves as (at the very least) abusive, especially those friends who made noises along the lines of our not being a good match from the beginning. i thought, at least, that friends who had also endured abusive relationships would stand by me. it's what i’d done for them. instead, no friend stood by me. instead, several of my oldest and closest friends indicated that i was being unreasonable, no longer wanting to maintain even very tangential social connections to someone who’d so visibly plugged quite so many resources in exacerbating my pre-existing condition of worthlessness. instead, i had to go back to the places where i made the mistakes that trapped me in that relationship and release a great deal of what i'd made in my life to that point. this is because my life, as it was, was no longer safe or enjoyable for me: if i'd kept living like that, i wouldn't have lived for a whole lot longer. of course i lost friends. many of the friends i lost weren't really my friends in the first place. i see this now, but at the time it just seemed like unnecessary destruction; setting fires to watch them burn. that's how it has to be, sometimes. in beginning to heal what i could of my wounded sexuality, i had to move out that much further from center, i needed to move out that much further into who i genuinely need to become.

6. i don’t know and i don’t know. i don’t know why and i don’t know who. i don’t know where i’m going with this, i don’t know why i keep ending up here. the candle burns, like the candle does; the candle could offer such solace if i only allowed it to. and then. and then. and then and then.

the experience is coming into form.
the experience is coming into form.
the experience is coming into form.

7. stay warm today, stay nourished. try to rest. sit quietly with a loved one by whom you feel held. think twice about substances of any variety and remember: the experience is coming into form.


 
 
music: robert rich - spectre of lost light