Scents

I’ve lost so many friends this year. And I wonder, is it my fault? And I don’t want to know the answer to that question. Is it because we were never truly friends in the first place? Is it because nothing is real anymore? People place so much value on their social media accounts and appearances. Nothing is real anymore. Forced. Fake. Fragile. Broken. No one wants to share their broken pieces and let others help them mend them back together. Pride. We are all broken. Lost. Lonely. Scared. I can smell it, the putrid fragrance that develops densely, deep within the bones. The scent pierces my nostrils, envelopes my lungs, sneaks into my pores. It becomes me, and I become it. I take it on. It conforms me.

Guidance

A compilation of texts I’ve received from a certain Spiritual Guide

 

“Having lived long, I have learned that not one thing is true– it’s all true.” Ernest Hemingway.

“No thought, no reflection, no analysis, no cultivation, no intention; let it settle itself.” Tilopa

Meditation is bearing witness to thoughts as they arise like bubbles from the bottom of a pond. Don’t add to the thoughts, just watch them rise, burst, and vanish. Eventually they stop rising.

In your desirelessness lies your only fulfillment.

“In your complete helplessness suddenly the whole Existence moves to help you” -Osho

Hope is desire for things to be other than they are. Without hope you deal with reality.

Pessimism is expectation of the worst. This is no expectation and no preferences.  Nothing is better or worse.

You are all neutral, accepting all.

The admission of confusion is the beginning of enlightenment.

In your hopelessness lies your only hope.

If you have no desires you are fulfilled.

Helpless, you are not striving, but moving with existence.

Let it be.

Night Crawlers

She sat

afraid

yet trying to ignore

the

impending darkness.

There used

to be a time

when sleep was fine,

there were no

mysterious entities

doomed to enter

into her brain.

So she remains

awoken in

this simulated state

of human consciousness

in order to avoid

the realities

of the subconscious

thoughts

and desires,

unknown night critters that

crawl around

unannounced.

By day

the bed is her

friend,

by night her

enemy,

not knowing

if there will be someone else,

that certain someone,

to lay next to her tonight

to protect her from

the monsters

that dwell inside

her closet and

under the bed–

phantoms only to creep out

and prey

when there is no comfort

of sunlight.

 

Starbucks

Green walls

little tables and chairs

This is where you go

to escape the

Real World and

pretend your a hipster

or a student

or a writer

or a business associate.

People staring idly

at their lap tops

People reading and studying

their text books.

All in their own

little worlds

Within the mini

universe of Starbucks.

Do they go here

for the coffee?

Maybe.

Do they go here

for the atmosphere?

Probably.

The majority of

them come here

to escape

their realities.

Their daily

monotonies.

A little break from

life as we know it.

Home is too quiet

and lonely.

Just being around

people is okay,

you don’t have to

talk to them.

A perfect little world

in the middle of

Chaos everywhere else.

War. Politicians. Gangs.

Drugs. Violence and death.

When you come

here,

you don’t have to

experience any of

that. Unless you

read the newspaper,

of course.

A simulation of

Perfection

to keep yourself

Ignorant

Even though

deep down

you really know,

you just don’t want to

acknowledge it.