It is time to post this collection of thoughts I forgot existed – found in the file called ‘SD v02112108’. (I name all artistic digital documents I created by a date code, so I know where pictures and writings go, chronologically speaking, when I choose to look back on things. 🙂 So, for example, this is February 11, 2018’s compiled deeeeep thoughts and such). Here it’s:
My Mental Martial Arts
I’m about to make a major life change and its got me thinking about those I’ll be leaving behind. Got me thinking about how much they matter to me and have taught me about kindness and grace and helped me improve my mental martial art skills. Though years will make my memory of them fade – surely that’s just the way of life and the way it must be – my gratitude and periferal awareness of their influence on my character and the direction of my life’s journey will never evaporate. I surmise this level of gratitude to a kind of undying love. Though love-feelings may be pushed under by the incompassionate waves of life’s progression, storms often bring old things to shore to appreciate and remember once again. This, I have experienced many times now, and is one of the surprising pleasures of getting older.
At my best in life, there is a bird calling sweetly.
She or he, raised his or her head
So that I may know it is not weeping.
The complaints I heard, were not large in a bird,
But they flew, so it knew every place, through them, quickly.
He/She filled up the place as its stops for scenic photos caused LIGHTNING to appear (out of breath)
(out of depth)
(out and about without meaning).
“I live in a pretty prison and I sleep in a sweet cottage. I don’t worry about so much anymore. Not really worrying or concerning myself so much in a future-centric place. I sometimes feel out-dated. My mind can be a very dry place, and it’s a spooky, fucking-awful-really kind of feeling. Describing it is hard; “numb” doesn’t do it justice. Just a spooky, uncomfortable, blank expanse. Interesting thoughts, anyway, and it feels good to write this. The “I” in Jen just isn’t here. She’s out astral-projecting somewhere. Jen is afraid she hasn’t really seen much of her, and she…she…I…I’d just like to know…”
To see is to be able to report back to yourself.
An adventure is 20 days. (Fucking assholes wou complain about kids getting trophies for participating, but you fucking invented Magnificence in YOUR mundane lives for decades! And you fucking portrayed YOURSELVES as ridiculous “self-made demi-gods”. Fucking ridiculous. About without meaning.