#eyeofi

the tiles that adorn the ceiling of the coffee shop i am currently sitting in, i believe would look lovely in my bathroom. i would stare at them while i showered and simply think about how the vision initially formed during the sullen hours of my sulking. the moments, though daunting, will come, and if i let them, they will go. there is no need holding onto the feeling that sits in the stomach during those odd times.

Although I know I am not in the same place I was a month ago, let alone last night, the belief has no real substance. it doesn't stem from optimistic roots. it doesnt caress my thoughts of regression as they appear. i just know that im not where i was a month ago. its a limiting realization.

after parading around senselessly, aimlessly, with a shallow heart and a shallow mind, you will ultimately come to a decision on it. sooner or later, your legs give way, you hit the ground. and whether or not you like it, you'll have to accept that you only have a limited number of options and each option has its consequences. fortnunately for you, you get to decide what's worth it and what's not.

there is torment laced between the confines of one option, there lies less torment within another, and then, within the last option, there is a repetitive cycle of a loose, sharp pain quickly followed by the fullest of exhales. each option, regardless of personal belief, will affect everything that surrounds it. there is no escaping that fact.

grief is inevitable. nothing in this life is permanent, everything is temporary, life especially, and the act of prolonging the inevitable will most likely allow the prepositioned pain to sit and fester. imagine a softball pitcher, winding up their arm to achieve maximum speed. the release is inevitable. but the pitcher is the one who decides the impact of the ball hitting the catcher's glove.

i wanted to start partaking more in the practice of meditation, so today i took music and a preroll and sat amongst the clovers and fallen leaves. led zeppelin's "tangerine" was on repeat and it had seemed as if it would rain but nonetheless, i sat and stared at the clouds. the sun would shine through for moments at a time, it's light warming my skin, and i stretched my limbs towards the sky like a flower in bloom. i placed my feet in the grass for a moment or two and closed my eyes. when i opened them, a busy bee flew past my face - it had to have been in a rush. just then i noticed a butterfly in the far-off corner of my backyard and i had remembed the butterfly that crossed paths with me earlier that day - yellow and black wings, it took its time while flying - and i smiled and crossed my legs. i rested one hand on my shin and held the other out in the open.

i've had many an experience with curious butterflies finding a resting place upon my being, so i asked the universe to send a butterfly so we can play together.

i closed my eyes, took a breath and sat still.

i cannot pinpoint the exact number of minutes that had passed but it wasnt long. i remained still, steadied my breathing and stayed patient, knowing the butterfly would soon fly by. i felt a tiny ant on my thigh, i heard the trees rustle above me, still i did not move nor make a sound. it wasnt until i heard the sounds of my mother coming outside that i opened my eyes. i turned to look in her direction and in the corner of my eye, i saw something move. gathering my attention, i turned my head and a monarch with gorgeous wings sat idle by. there, she sat on a blade of grass, but eventually caught flight and flew away.

at first i was stunned, then i smiled. hmm, i thought, a butterfly.

my mother was in the act of walking my dog, captain, when her presence shook me out of my session and she sent him over to sit with me. a playful thing my dog is, and he rightfully won my attention with a quick kiss on the cheek.

we played for a little while i sat and thought to myself:

meditation is the practice of reaching and staying in a higher frequency regardless of outside forces. this is why it is usually practiced in private/uninterrupted sessions, because its easier to reach and maintain higher frequencies when there are no opposing outside forces to rival it. in the act, you are balancing oneself and clearing energy before the peace of stillness can occur.

around 20 minutes pass and i decide my session is over. as i am about to stand, i notice something by my hand - the one that was initially resting on my leg. i would not have noticed it if i wasnt paying attention.

there it was. the smallest thing i've ever seen. a green thing. the tiniest of caterpillars squirming on my blanket below.

i pick it up (regrettably) and i place it on the tip of my finger - the opposite of the one that i expected the butterfly to land on.

i watch in complete amazement as it nibbles at my skin, it bringing a slight tingling sensation where it stands.

there it was. the butterfly i asked for. just not quite how i'd expect it to be.

after watching it for a minute, i decided it had a long journey ahead of it, and i would keep it from it no longer. i placed it on a flower petal of a peach tree that's currently growing outside of my bedroom window. i gave it a blessing, blew it a kiss, and wished it safe travels on it's journey then i turned to take captain back inside.

once inside, i thought about how i asked the universe to send me love and it did. it did. i thought it resided in a lust-riddened sicko freak (i lower my head in remorse), but that's only because i was searching for it. i can wholeheartedly say i was wrong. it was more just lust with the word love spray painted over it in with dark eyes and a hatred for the outside world.

and for hours i've been thinking, had i not been paying attention, like i was with the caterpillar - i would not have noticed the love i asked for. it was not in the stages of its evolution i wished it to be in, but love came when i wasnt looking. love appeared during a rather unpleasant stage of it's evolution, but nonetheless, it appeared. and love was here. and love was here. and love is here. still.

i know i have to set you down and allow you to grow into the butterfly you are meant to become, and i know that when you get your wings, our paths might not cross again (or i might not be paying attention next time around), but for a moment, you were mine and i loved you.

There's this one song. It plays and I'm his again. It lulls me to sleep, comforts me in the night. All because I imagine him singing it. How crazy that must be, to imagine your peace in such a manner. It's dulcet, almost. To imagine him in a way like this. Not in any explicit light, just a low one. In a way, I find peace in keeping my lingering affection for him to myself. It's like my own little secret, kept between me and the pages of my notebook. I believe it's better this way. I get to love him as loudly as I want in there. I wouldn't tell a soul, it's too intimate. Makes it real that way. I would rather love him like this than love him out loud. That's what makes this intimate. He's quite a man. Quite the man. To experience him one last time would be Heaven on Earth. I know him. I know him. His likes, his dislikes. I've shared a drink with his mother. I've made him coffee, tea. I've watched him while he slept, and held him closer on colder nights. I've heard him scream his favorite song in the car during road trips. I've witnessed all the things that made him human.

I think the reason as to why I would rather keep it to myself is because I secretly enjoy no one tainting it. If it's mine, it's all mine. No outside forces can impose on it. It's quiet and cosmic and unlimited that way.

It's so boundless, my God. This love. His love is mine still, but only in my head. And I am his still, but only in my dreams. How beautiful it is to love loudly. Magnificently.

your time is so precious. where is the benefit to wasting it? whether it is something that plagues your mind conastantly or not, the clock stops for no one. it stops for nothing. it doesnt only tick when you’re eyes are focused on it, so why don’t you understand the severity of wasting it? why do you think a quarter of your day being spent completeing non-life altering tasks isn’t an issue? what part of your day do you not pay attention to? every day you got Jah work on my mind. what parts of your day could be replaced where you could instead focus it on your work? you don’t have to feel guilty or be upset with yourself for letting corruption consume the hours you are meant to be working. the past is the past. what has been done cannot be undone. you have work to do. why are you hesitant on completing it? on even starting it? on even finishing it? with great power comes great responsibilty, you cannot be scared to take the necessary steps to do your work. the work you were put on this earth to complete in the first place. you were not put on this earth to party with friends, nor bake cookies from scratch in the middle of the night. you were not put on this earth to paint the mona lisa, or star in a movie. those are the luxuries of life. those are things you could accomplish DUE to having been given this life, but those are not your life’s purpose. you are blessed to already know what it is. others struggle and fall simply beacuse they spend their time trying to find the purpose of their life. the meaning and purpose of life are completely different things. do not set one in the others corner. your time is more precious than you realize, and you are not promised an entire life time to actually do the work you were put on this earth to do. you were not promised an able body that could perfectly execute said job for an entire lifetime. you were not promised the all of the equipment necessary to complete said job. you cannot take the state you are in for granted and use the time you have already been given on filler. you have the time, and the knowledge, use it.

don’t force it. what is your obsession with being desired? why does the idea of someone wanting you make you feel complete? would you deem yourself worthy of your own love if someone were to look at you? if someone were to desire you? is it validation? are you looking for a sense of permission to care about and take care of yourself? it is not vain to take care of yourself. you deserve to give yourself what you would offer others. can you, for one moment, imagine what life would be like if you ended up being the love of your life? would you sit and wait to take care of yourself until someone came along only to leave you with yourself again? or in the spare months in which lovers come and go, would you take that time to truly pour into yourself in the ways you would expect a romantic interest to do? there is no love in the world better than the love you experience within your bones. you will crumble at the touch of a man. the only way you could ever put yourself back together is if you learn to love the feeling of your own touch. this is the most difficult think piece i’ve written in a while. all i….hands. what is it with hands? what do they do? why do they catch my attention more than anything else? is it because i want to be held? cradled? supported. to hold something is to support it, it’s entire being safe in your grasp. the only negative is you decide when it is no longer safe. the only negative is they decide when their hold on you is no longer safe and they have the choice of whether or not to tell you. i want to be supported. i want to feel support. i want to be seen without the fear of being judged. i want to be touched without the feeling of disgust clouding my brain because there is an insane amount of trust between us. i want to share a space with someone and not feel like i take up too much of it. i want to compromise. i want to forgive and forgive again and again and again and i don’t want the pain of letting someone go. i want to be held and have someone not want to let go. what is this feeling? i want to not feel ashamed of my bedhead on day 5. i want to talk. i want to talk. i want to talk and talk and talk and dammit i want to listen too. i want to listen. i want to listen and listen and listen and learn from listening. and i want so much more than that. why cant you find that person within yourself? why do you assume that person is out there? why wouldn’t your first belief be that the person you are looking for could come from you? what if your being creates this person? what if you don’t immediately shift your position on the couch to seem smaller and take up the entire couch when you’re the only one sitting there? what if you made as many servings of your favorite food as you wish, and stored them so you could enjoy them in the future? what if you didn’t mind your bedhead on day 6? not 5, but 6. what if you take up the entire fucking bed and let your limbs relax and stretch as far as they would like to? what if you loved yourself first? would that be so bad?