On dying, on living.

"It is a very mixed blessing to be brought back from the dead." -Kurt Vonnegut

Here's what's been happening, everything is dying and ending and it feels like it is happening all at once. Maybe it's simply the season for it. That may sound callous but trust me, it is not like that. But assorted happenings, words people have said or written to me and I, back to them, papers I have been writing, books I have been reading, all have me considering the unusual (though more common than we think) practice of living after partially dying, or after being so close to actual death. 

I trust that you are all familiar with the term "ego death". A concept that has fascinated me, that I have spent the last 2 or 3 years of my life trying to attain. I have come close on a few occasions, but as I begin to dissolve, and as dividing lines between all I see go fuzzy my mind seems to go into a defensive mode and my 'self' reasserts itself. I know what I need to experience, I believe in it. But it is different from actually experiencing it. Unfortunately, I have not been able to find time to meditate for long stretches of time which is something I need to fix because meditation is my favorite thing, probably.

Ever since I passed out from being stung by a mostly-dead Portugese Man-O-War I feel my brain has never worked the way it is supposed to. Maybe that is an arbitrary turning point and it's more than likely the case that that just isn't true. Maybe my mind never worked right.

Once, a different time than being stung and much later, I was closer to death than I had ever been, or have been since. Looking in the mirror I did not recognize myself. I had over time become someone who I could not recognize or bear too look at. This stranger had an empty, pale, sagging face, around her eyes were dark purple circles, her eyes themselves were listless, yellow and bloodshot, her skin lacked any vibrancy or mark of the living. Until the day I die I will never forget seeing myself as an 'other', seeing myself, seeing that other die before my eyes. 

I slept forever, on the other side there was a warm and soft nothingness.

But even when one sleeps forever, there is a time to wake up.

The bruises all over my body that I had gained eventually faded.

And since then I am always gaining new marks, new scrapes and bruises

Since then my body has never been free of wounds,

the fragility of the body, the strength the soul requires to make up for it.

When you die, then go on to live to tell the tale it is not something you will ever fully forget. Your death is always in one corner of you mind. One might say looming, but that gives off the wrong connotation.

"You have to die a few times before you can really live." -Charles Bukowski

When you yourself have been close to death, when your ego fades, or when a substantial part of you dies and you are there to watch, you know that there is nothing to fear. You can overcome death; you cannot live forever but you can live. To actually live is more powerful than to live forever. 

Whenever we die, we should pick up the pieces, we put them back together different. Try to put them back together better.

Whenever anything dies their pieces, their matter, their energy is still a part of the universe as everything else takes the pieces of the dead thing. Everything else puts themselves back together. What use are the dead if they cannot fix the living?

But also

What use are we if we cannot fix ourselves?

I am different now, maybe even better in some ways. My temper and judgement take longer to come, I look at everything anew. More importantly, I look at everything. I am happy now, but I know that happiness is hard work. I recognize the world is complicated but I cannot help but oversimplify things most of the time.

The most complicated aspect of the universe: It is simple sometimes.

Once you see that everything means something while meaning nothing it is easier to just accept, to love boundlessly. You are as free as you want to be, but you may not even want to be very free at all because what is freedom without love, which kills freedom in every sense of the word.

I am bound to all of you because I love you.

I am bound to myself because I love myself.

I am bound to my moral standards because I love them.

I am bound to the universe because I love it.

And I accept death too. I know, in my heart that it is never the end. Because I am bound to the people I know, many of whom will live on after me (if only for a short while). Because I am bound to the universe, which will endure for longer than I can fathom. When you die and then live you recognize that death is nothing to be afraid of, you accept it and you do not fight it anymore. You do not push it out of your mind when it appears because it is a part of you and a part of the universe, both of which you should love.

I am bound to death because I love it.

I am bound to die because I love it.

I know this may be hard to read for many of you, hard to understand for others. I know those two sentences up there may upset every reflex you have, your mind might cringe, your heart might worry.

Death is painful for those left behind I know this and I know you all know this. But leaving someone is all in the mind, it is a product of how we see time, how we see space and how we see matter. We can see past these instinctive boundaries. We can hold onto everyone and everything and we are never left behind.

What is the dirt that is sitting between your toes? What is the wind that is whistling through your ears? What is the Ocean? What is love?

Here's what they all are: Reminders that the universe is, reminders that everything is, and has been, and will be, reminders that morbidity only exists sofar as we let it.

Leaves are falling, the grass will grow from them in the spring.

We will all die, most of use more than once. But to exist, and to love, is to be a part of something bigger and neverending. So we need not worry.

I love you all so much.

One a.m. (part two)

Again I found myself a bit lonely in my bed

So I took you out of my head (Where I know you didn't belong)

And, once again, I put you next to me (Even though you don't belong there either)

"Did you ever get over your fear of dying?" you asked me

and I was taken aback by the question.

"Well..."

I spoke up, paused for a moment, continued.

"When I said that I seemed to be thinking of the body only

the body, despite how amazing and beautiful it is"

I started to slide my fingers into your belt

stopped because it wasn't right

craned my neck instead

kissed yours.

"It's going to die

it's going to degenerate

we know that much.

But we don't

know about our awareness

it is separate, I think.

By definition, unknowable.

We cannot say what happens to it

if it continues to 

see

feel

want

have

long after the body ends.

It might be okay not to believe in

beginnings

or endings.

Maybe it's okay. I can't say but I'm allowed to believe."

You laughed

it was low and quiet. Nervous and maybe a little bit sad.

You took me into your chest

(I do like when you do that.)

Pressing your lips against my forehead gently

(Always gently, I like that too)

you said I was beautiful

for once I believed you.

Then you were gone

and all is beautiful.

It's too cold.

Oh but what's to be done in a world so undone.

You cannot tie knots as quickly as the knots unravel.

As the impersonal mechanisms of the world start taking you under and you know not who you are. Why does this always happen?

...Or, why do we always let it happen? as the line between fate and personal responsibility unravels and splinters.

Can you suffocate from having too much air?

Oh but I wrap myself up to stay warm. No one else will do it for me.

World's best apple cider.

Nature slips in through the cracks of society.

As an abandoned factory is slowly overcome with ivy, spiders and bird's nests.

The world knows more than we do. 

It can endure.

We cannot destroy the earth, only ourselves.

We cannot save the earth only each other.

We cannot endure alone.

No floor, just the sound of the river passing through.

No ceiling, but the cloudless blue sky.

I love it all.

Here's how it is: 

"We are made of matter."

"All matter is merely energy condensed to a slow vibration." 

"Energy can be changed from one form to another, but it cannot be created or destroyed. The total amount of energy and matter in the Universe remains constant, merely changing from one form to another." 

"Entropy is increasing constantly." 

"It's okay."

Long weekend.

We were so foolish to believe we knew what we wanted while we were still living. Truth is we wanted everything but we would settle for something. And it's depressing how few people open their third eye during their life time, but it's a downright damned shame that even fewer open their hearts.

And oh how every moment matters so much.

A dead bridge was given new life as the scrawling and marking meshed into one.

The communal nature of the world.
Let's take it back.

30 degrees and I am shivering not because of the chill of the air but because of the warmth of your body.

Driving over bridges are leaps of faith of sorts. Technology vs nature, as I read thick well-worn paperbacks that are often overly self-concious. They are testaments to the human desire to create something greater and more lasting than oneself, both in their existance, and often in their theme.

This too shall pass.

Yes sir.

"I'm glad mushrooms are against the law, because I took them one time, and you know what happened to me? I laid in a field of green grass for four hours going, "My God! I love everything." Yeah, now if that isn't a hazard to our country … how are we gonna keep building nuclear weapons, you know what I mean? What's gonna happen to the arms industry when we realize that we're all one?!"

BILL HICKS KNOWS WHATS UP.

Riding the infinite moment

as the wind blows the leaves and also my hair around.

Accepting the absurdity of everything existing at once

sometimes I feel like I'm growing up.

Reminders

"I wish I was an earthworm"

"But then you'd never seen the sun!"

"yeah but I'd aerate soilz."

"yes, but you were made a human and you can't very well change that now, so you might as well make the best of it!"

Sometimes we forget something until we say it.

Considering going to sleep.

But oh how good it feels to be at this point. 

Where everything is wrong. And that just... feels right.

It's never too late

to try to be sincere.

"Writers are always selling everyone out."

But in my transgressions is an apology,

quiet and mumbled, I'm sorry I have to do this

as words rise up and make my bones ache,

I can't help it that some of the words are meant for you,

Hurting your autonomy to protect myself.

I hope you understand.

But you understand less than you let on

I am walking towards the orange lights on the far side of the field

I can't see any stars, but the moon is so low and close and round.

"After all, it is you and I who are perfect, not the next world"

I've always loved the moon most of all.

Tonight shadows seem wide and loose, aching to be cut free

and the light plays tricks on us

and we, on the light.

Public Service Announcements

-When you throw your television from the window

please make sure not to hit anyone with it.

It makes twice the mess.

-What have YOU done with your free will today?

-The universe is infinite and also it's constantly expanding

Isn't that amazing?

Best of all, even with these odds, you'll still probably find your car keys.

-Go outside and count the petals on the prettiest flower you can find.

or don't.

But at least go outside, it's nice out!

-Try to make someone's day

It's not as hard as you think

You can make mine just by trying.

-If you want to do it. 

And you're not going to hurt anyone

Why don't you just do it.

-If you can't find beauty, why don't you just create some?