Thoughts on thursday

When you become apart. Something over time questions the unity of you, the togetherness of your structure of your being. It drops off without you noticing, just falls on the floor. And the rest of you walks on, takes a deep breath of relief and freedom. 
 It was holding me back and I was clutching at it to keep me away from doing what I am meant to do. All that unnecessary baggage we lug around through decades when all it would have taken was to drop it off along the way in a big blast or a quiet awakening. Now it leaves of its own accord without consulting us. Reverse self-mutilation.
 Strutting forward as a walking wounded, learning to live with all that pain, letting it eat away at us is so much easier than make the life-saving decision of cutting the gangrene. Accepting what needs to go and let it drift off. But no it is a better way to live and avoids making difficult decisions. Brute adaptability and acquiescence.
 I have to let go, it will destroy me but if I let go will I still be there. I will have to redefine myself, build a new reality from scratch.
 Live another life
 Of pain and loss
 But light as a feather
 The burden has left
 It has sought its own freedom.
 Put one foot in front of the other, take the next breath. I go on and live and meet myself anew, rediscover a smile, my smile. The one that was buried, in purdah behind a veil of pain. Questioning and letting go goes through the core of yourself of the people you love and the convention of society you have signed up for. You have been signed up for.

Choose life, choose a future. The past can cope with itself.

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Funny here I can’t write, never think of writing. Haven’t tried because I know it wouldn’t work. But it does just go with the flow. Let it happen. Get a paper and scribble. Writing/drawing same action of the wrist in cahoots with the brain. Creating lines, any lines, no map set, shapes that look like words. Colours that help define the moment, the occasion the mood. A meaning defied or an understanding I will never grasp and nobody will even if we try.

But does it matter it is the action that matters, not the meaning. As a boil that wants lancing but once out the release is amazing. Done over. I don’t have to like it. I don’t have to claim ownership.

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Return to the internet. As tectonic plates moving away from each other and slowly merging again but becoming different so the internet is evolving to reach adulthood. Leaving shapes and ecosystems behind to birth new shapes and ecosystems.

Internet evolves but becomes more exclusive, we use it to drop our needs and wishes, a vision of us that we enjoy but we do it to people who understand us, make room for the way we tick and think. I know what I don’t want to read or see and won’t change my mind if you step on my foot. People are more outspoken but more choosey. Internet is a liberation and a very scary place.

— — -

There is in my life a time to draw and a time to write, a time to think and a time to vegetate and a time to digest things, of course a time to relax and let go of myself for a while.

Year divide into months of different activities, settings, people. Make us of the time that is given to do what you have to and what you have set aside to do. Make use of the energy when you have it and relax and nap when you are lacking it again. Wonder why I slept so badly. Believe the only things that need clearing is money and where to stay.

— — -

What are my limits, my borders are they defined by my physical contours or is there more to life. To write as a breath, to breathe as a line, a contact with paper, with myself and eventually a viewer. The act of doing, of pressing a depress button. It is an act, an action. Watching other lives moving in front of your camera. Put the finger to the button and see a copy of it there on the camera. But through an electronic distance carried by a lifeless gadget. An intermediate, a pen, a brush, a keyboard, a screen.
 A paper as a support, a friend, a confident, a companion that listens and hears. A piece of paper as a support to be kept under glass for safety reasons. Not sure am writing anything worthwhile sitting her

This coffee is nearly too cold to drink even for me.

— — —

Why am I so excited, expectant, waiting with glee, not knowing what, when or where? Again that spontaneity that doesn’t get worked on or elaborated, just spat out as it comes, no tomorrow and a today that lives itself as it comes. So is my life, buying toys, handbags, coffee without thoughts of where the money is coming from. Funny old day. Funny old life, what is there that makes me look forward to something, somebody, maybe even tomorrow
 Weird and bizarre but the money will be there. Have to unlearn fears and worries, my stomach will be the better for it. Just stop and live in the now, that is so easily said and I have said it easily for a long time. But so seldom put it into practise.