As I ran my eye over some of the internal dialogue today, I came across the thought that so much of "my totem" is curated... not just what’s presented at any given time to the outside world, but also the internal blocks and thoughts. The whole being slivered up and doled out in increments: a trickle here, a spurt there. Even a burst of a dam or a downpour is, in some way, a prescripted dose, palatable or not. All a choreographed observing and approving... a lived-out unveiling of that which I hold most dear: the mind that writes this.
I am seated within the flames of my own eye, anguished by an itch that vibrates in meditation, an opening that hollows out the gut for breath. Gnashing of teeth? Tearing of clothes? I can see where they apply... a spiraled breath of longing that reaches out umbilically towards an unknown source of comfort... mother, father, lover, end. It tugs you open through the midline and roots you to the floor, far-seeing eyes fixed on a horizon the mind cannot conjure... waiting in the flames to be known on a level of understanding that causes the sweats.
It is not a loneliness; it is a wandering for the sake of one’s existence... born into you through your ancestors back to the stardust that wrought them. A mind that writes and reaches and yearns and calls in silent screams, through blood-born flames... I am here watching for a sign of rain.
But how much of this is all for my own entertainment and nothing more, unbeknownst to me? A bewitchery of my own design to withstand the recesses of my own mind... to explain the thoughts and dialogues I often find within? An internal friction of my own creation …? Is awareness the handing over of the editor’s key from unconsciousness to consciousness….?
This is my attempt to be honest without the curation that I speak of, the kind that only another like you, dear, can truly understand.
I hope it helps.
The truth is… I do not know if confessing to curation is itself a curated act. Or for whom such pageantry would really be... For some future totem self or another macro “me”? I do not know. All I know is I am aware, and I edit where I see fit, and even if I do not see a reason to call a fit, I find all is done on an edit either way… does this make sense? Perhaps not... perhaps only to you, dear, perhaps only to task managers aware their minds hover over Ctrl+Alt+Delete…
