Love. More of It.

Love…

If chasing sunshine has taught me one thing, it’s that opening your curtains means you can just let it come.
(Generally, open curtains means a tidy room first…)

*     *    *    *    *

My experience of love is one that can be expressed on so many different levels.

There is the love of the flesh, the appreciation of the physical world around us. A love of a moment, an enjoyment of a platform created by our material world. It is a fickle love, like the flicker of a sun as it bounces off a mirror, a glimpse of your smile as you try to hide behind your smirk. That blue flash of flame just before it turns orange. It is love.

There is a love of the heart, the emotional resonance of love’s existence. A love of a person, to dwell in the company of a friend, a relative, a lover, even a stranger who shares the experience of “youness” in that moment. It is a lingering love that stays, like the love of a friend who makes you laugh, the love of a relative who makes you comfortable, the love of a lover whose presence warms you. It is love.

There is a love of the mind, the mental and sentimental spark of both brain and body. A love of a conversation, a concept, an idea. It is a love that revels in whoever or whatever embodies that expression. It is a temperamental love, impulsive and vibrating at a whole different frequency. It is an intangible love, its permanence  encompassed by us. Much like the unformed winds that can rustle up leaves or up-root a tree, it is a love that is made whole in itself.

Finally, there is a love of the soul, the universe that is both within and around us. The universe of which we are both creators as well as inhabitants. Our soul is the expression of the metaphysical world reflected by our physical one. It is a love in itself, a love that consumes itself while it reflects. It is like the sun, burning at high frequencies and eating itself while regenerating the light to reflect onto the moon. It is a love that is self-reliant, self-sufficient, yet self-destructive. It is a love that provides to all and gains only from self-regeneration. It is a love that regenerates, it does not disintegrate.

Love.

I love you, so very much right now, and I’m sure you feel it, too.

MG

It’s Good to Be Back

(Disclaimer: If this post causes emotional discomfort, please confront your demons by heeding wise advice.)

I was spontaneous yesterday.

Now, for those of you who know me — it really does depend which era of me you know, now, doesn’t it?

Let’s try this again. For those of you who have known me in the past couple of years, maybe three, you’ll probably gasp when I, of all people, say “spontaneity”. And I know exactly why; I know the reasons for your surprise probably better than I let on, as I do with most things in life, to be honest.

So why was being spontaneous a big deal for me?

Because, mates, it’s good to be back.

You look at me and think, “but you didn’t go anywhere”. Physically no, but in the past two years I did go down a path I once promised myself to never venture. I promised myself I wouldn’t because of how many people I lost to it — the cancer of the mind, eating away at the soul, leaving behind a mere shell of a human body to remind us that yes, this living, breathing, entity is our responsibility.

So I left. I couldn’t leave physically — I had too many commitments out here in the city, a life I’ve spent a decade trying to build and am still dissatisfied with my efforts, knowing how far I’ve fallen when I look at how much I achieved once upon a time.

I couldn’t leave mentally — no, my brain is generally over stimulated due to intelligence, which, unfortunately for a lot of people, means I have no off-switch. I notice things. Then I understand concepts because I’ve seen it somewhere before, so I associate that and make a connection. That link tends to be more logical than emotional because I like being objective, studying the facts, understanding the patterns.

Logic is my comfort zone.

But I left, emotionally. It was one of the longest journeys I’ve ever taken — to be completely void of emotions and shut down, tuned out from the world around, still hearing details but feeling like everything is meaningless. Sometimes, this can be a good feeling, like if that emptiness is actually contentment and peace. If that emptiness is actually silence and solitude. What I felt though, was far from that.

At first.

It was a lonely emptiness, where not only did I feel like no one could relate to me, but that I hadn’t found a way to relate to myself. I was so far gone, so different, so…unfamiliar to myself. Most people think I had it done to me, that I was a victim of victimless crimes; that I was subject to whatever abuse had led me down that path. But it was my morbid curiosity, because I chose those situations knowing that I am entertained by aggression.

Aggressors find my amusement annoying. It adds fuel to the fire, pushes their limits; unable to laugh at themselves, the angry flip from aggression to full on abuse.

Of course it’s fun, it’s like that predictable explosion, a controlled avalanche.

And it’s what I do, I laugh in the face of rage. I laugh, because I understand anger, I know rage, I terrorized them a long time ago, and they are now subservient to my control. I don’t avoid it, but I generally don’t project it either. So yes, watching each and every single one of you flip out in vengeance does entertain me, because I remember what it was like to be immature.

I remember what it was like to be insecure.

But I also remember…what it’s like to be fearless in the face of insecurity.

My darlings, like I said, it’s good to be back. Oh, how I’ve missed you…

G.

Larger Than Life

I wasn’t
looking to
change you.
Just your mind.

I wasn’t
looking to
take over
your world.
Just your thoughts.

I wasn’t
looking to
be apart
from
your world.

I’ve only ever wanted
to be
a part
of
(anything larger than life)
you.

~MG~

#imissyou