Real talk 

I’ve been waking up with crusty eyes. 

I’ve been going to sleep alone. 

My body is swollen. 

Tonight he said he didn’t want to give me a hug. 

We talk about (his) loss or pain. 

I drink mine away. 

He’s mourning the loss of being with other men. 

I’m feeling bad because I just want to be with him. 

Welcome to Wednesday. 

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What is this? Silence. Exhaustion. Distance.

I want to try and cross the distance. But it also seems like I must be the bridge that we walk across. Is it worth it? Am I fighting a lost cause?

My fear is that when all is said and done, you are just looking for an excuse to walk. Over me? With me? I want us to walk together; but that feels so far tonight.

Exhaustion? I just wish we could relax together.

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This cycle needs to end. 

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Supplanting another’s consciousness is a delicate balance of exploring and yielding. Because all memories are stored in meaningful layers within the folds of the brain, I do not have access to the entirety of  my new past all at once. I must become aware, usually via serendipity. 

This actually helps my cause due to the fact that all feelings today are shaped by how we view and remember past experiences. In the recalibration it is important that I maintain objectivity as much as possible (until I become too ensnared in this body and it’s processing faculties.) And so I spend my initial days just allowing the body to follow it’s normal unconscious routine. Humans don’t realize how often they move, talk, and respond simply out of muscle memory. 

So far this morning I’ve experienced this body (again I need to get used to saying my body) waking up, playing on a phone for two hours,  greeting his husband, pleasuring himself, attending therapy, and ordering a drink along the river walk needing absolutely no help from its consciousness: Me. 

Pivoting from habit to choice is as simple as deciding to do so, and yet it is my most harrowing task and the reason I exist. 

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Over time, I’ve learned that mindful stillness is the best approach. Upon waking, or still cuddled up in that pre-conscious moment, I’ve found that focusing upon the body and noticing all sensations makes the absorption process more natural. It is not important to try and determine location or gender or age, these factors are immaterial, the only element I concern myself with is awareness. Vestiges of this body’s former Mind still dance among the neurons, and if I listen to them I can understand the path we will soon be traveling together.

This morning I heard anxious rumblings of regret as the gray matter attempted to cycle through it’s usual routine. I felt hypertension squeezing the inner-workings of this body, my body I should say, as the blood flowed from heart to limbs and crotch and brain. I became aware of extra elements, symptoms of past discord, like body fat concentrated in the midsection and cholesterol lining the inside of veins. But I also acknowledged an optimistic calm in the act of breathing, a sure sign that the body was awaking in the exact position in the world it was supposed to be. And so I released my stillness and moved toward the the necessary innervation.

And so began another excavation. An attempt to uncover the truth of a human’s existence unclouded by anxiety and pain and allow this truth to move us along on the path toward nirvana.

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And the truth is…

I just want you to see me. To understand me (or try to). To make me feel desired. To make love to me. It would really feel nice to feel special, not because of how I make you feel, but because as an individual I am compelling enough to draw you to me. 

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Friday Night (de)Lights

TGIF… might as well let it all hang out. (4ish days was a good run.) 

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