Move is this great goal I want to achieve, but only to connect, I genuinely care about people, romance, its process and intricate detail and the reaction response or reward it conjures from the work put into it, but it breeds comfort, I’ve never been comfortable and when I tried to seek it, it became my ending, I don’t care much about feelings as much as I care that I feel, so that I know I’m alive, but even then I question that, I feel mechanical, like connection and love being a tool that validates my heart but distracts my mind
I want all out of the people I interact with, though most can’t have all of me, or at least not in the same stuck place they’d like me to stay at which makes them feel more comfortable and full, but I am the very void I cause
I know at my highest ideals of achievement exists no comfort, because there’s always more to do, maybe I might not aspire to do everything, but I haven’t even touched the floor of most or even approached a lot
Maybe I crave love for legacy, though I connect seamlessly with women and their emotions, I’m also cold and could care less about deterring myself for someone else’s emotional hangups and needs, I embrace my emotional flaws and faults, it fuels me
I need a partner that I can share love with more than a person that’ll want my love unshared, I don’t need comfortability or complacency…I guess anybody likes to know someone somewhere worries about them, but I’m on a mission and I can handle distractions as long as they don’t seek to actually get in my way because I can turn emotion off just as quick as I can turn it on and dive deep within it
Love or sex…maybe even company is a sign of art and expression, a declaration of personal desire, it can be shared with anyone, but those you share it with show your pallid and canvass
I think we usually think of people sexually before we think of them platonically, it’s the wonder or mystery just like any admirer of art observing a painting and the artist’s mindset and process when creating…what do they look like, sound, smell, taste, feel…are they ravenous or reserved, does their interior match their exterior, is their personality a match to their intimacy, it’s those deep intimate describers that really helps you know a person, but it’s obviously a privacy everyone is privileged to know, but that wonder is what is so enticing about people, it mirrors life, because it’s a journey that takes effort to know and experience to personal satisfaction, as in love, as in adventure and exploration, as in career and achievement
I crave to know, know everything, the things that are hidden and taboo, the things that are in plain sight and invisible, because knowledge in its makeup is power because it empowers you, and the more you know, the more you evolve, the more we know, the more we get to become, so the more I know about someone else, the more I can know of myself
I wonder and I want, in many ways that makes me dangerous, therefore I wander places in thought emotion and being they I’m not supposed to be or wanted at and feel I’m stranded being a drifter into people’s life and emotions
Seeing things I’m not allowed or given easy entrance or access to
what is there for me, but more…I want more
and that fact will alienate me because everyone else does to but they limit that wanting, hide and lie about it, and then make others feel guilty for wanting it, I hate cages barricades walls and enclosements, my nature is to break them down or transcend them
we all have borders that once we get over them, how fucking amazing will we be and will life look when we get to the other side!
Earlier, how was sex relevant? everything…EVERYTHING is connected, we only created brackets and barriers around certain aspects of life to create a personal feeling of ownership and therefore ability to hide and disguise ourselves, creating many faces while trying to stay true to the one face we believe we have, and when those facades run into themselves, we panic shut down fight or run, because no matter how much we claim we want to live, living in denial and hiding is no living at all, it’s just existing, and when you merely exist, personal beliefs anecdotes and philosophies run counter to each other and end in a confusing emotional steeple and stupor, numbing and detaching us from one another, where we engage self-imposed artificial defense systems and create distractions or succumb to addictions of sorts that mask the conundrum of self-deprivation we inflict upon ourselves
I want…that’s my affliction
but the fact that I want more…that’s my crime
because I see so much, so I know how much there is to be had, beyond just materials, and I can’t shut these thoughts urges and desires off if I tried!
Because to me, dying is not having, purgatory is being comfortable and dying is becoming complacent
I hear what you are saying about me right now…and for the first time in my life, I don’t care!
I can handle distractions but not deterrence, so I will not be denied
I have things to be had, though I don’t know what they all are, I still want them, because that knowing and wonder is all a part of the adventure, it’s all a part of my journey
I’m an open book, but you’ll never know me, because I closed some doors I’ve long forgotten about and have no idea where to find them or even craft a key to open them if I could, and I continue to evolve by the moment, because that’s all we have and its all I live, the moments
I wonder how many people could read this out loud and feel comfortable, fearless and still be loved by those listening to them
better to accept the love of ones that accept the things hard to love, even though love is easier than we make it out to be, but that’s a matter of resisting and wanting less than we believe ourselves capable and worthy of, but that’s a story for another day
I kept thinking I’d end this but kept going…that’s what I mean, there’s always more, bye for now.
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