We interrupt my precious sleep to bring you this fast-breaking news story.
The past two weeks, something has been bothering me, and I couldn't put my finger on it. It was driving me nuts. And last night, I was in the first funk I had in two years. Because I couldn't figure it out.
It wasn't any one thing, as nothing can touch me nowadays, unless I allow it. Nothing.
This feeling came, as things start to come together in my life. I have a job I enjoy, working with people I have fun with. Finally, past baggage can be shed, and the company and the people are poised to move forward, wherever that may take us.
I get involved with exciting creative projects that stimulate my hyperactive mind, making an even bigger name for myself, and while that is not my goal or desire, it is an accomplishment that took me many endless days and weeks and months and years to complete.
I have people who have my back. I have those I can consider true friends, and even those I condemned to the deepest pits of hell, I have forgiven.
Yes, I have my debts to pay, and I still haven't quit smoking or lost enough weight, but those things will come with time.
And yet, for almost two weeks, I was just... disturbed. I was not happy. Everything is going fine, and I just, couldn't snap out of this stupid funk.
I tried many things, before I realised that it was not two weeks. This thing has been happening for the past few years. It has lead me to this.
All of it. All my breakthroughs. My discovering my own brand of spirituality and philosophy. The lessons learned. The bloodied nose and broken bones and the stabbings on my back. The knowledge and information and experience I have accumulated.
It was like giving birth, or emerging out of a coccoon. I mean, I knew the thought processes. I know. But knowing is different than realising. And the thing that brings you from knowledge to realisation is experience. That was the missing component. That was the dilation of the vagina. That was me going through the breach.
I was unsettled, because after months of focusing on things and other people, I finally had a breather, some time to focus on myself. Not the ego self, but the real self.
I mean, work just became routine recently, and I just learned to settle down and see a flow happening. For once, in my hectic life, I had the luxury to stop, look and listen. To myself.
I was in a funk not because of any thing, but because everything just came together in my head, and it was going out. Man, this took a lot of time. And a lot of wanking. Both literally and figuratively.
Just now, lying in bed, unable to sleep, I asked myself some really serious questions. I got my answer - answers that are right for me. And then? Nothing. There was just blissful emptiness.
I was not plagued by a sense of impending doom. No simulations and projections of the future. No past mistakes to live through again and again. I was just existing. Breathing.
I was... okay. There is no word for it. It wasn't me or a voice in my head telling me I'm okay. I was just... okay.
And suddenly, there was a welling up of joy. I felt like I needed to express it in some way, so I got up and wrote this.
I don't know what it means. Maybe I am manic depressive. I don't really care. I'm just enjoying it.
