Pardon, didn't mean to bleed on you.

 It started with a commitment,

A promise, 

A vow:

No matter what struggles,

No matter what scenarios, 

I would never return to living the life, 

of the living dead.

I'd take homelessness 

over selling my days for a salvaging slave's wage.

The vow grew:

Committing to healing, transformation, and relaxation.

Do you know how hard it is to truly and fully relax?

Thirsting for relaxation lead to regiments of body mind and soul,

relaxation through effort,

through exhaustion,

I could find no other way.


So I stayed low,

I stayed quiet,

I did the work.

Spontaneously, without invitation or any indication from me,

friends, acquaintances, and fellow unkowns

all reached out and came to me.

Their struggles mirroring my own.


I shared:

open, clear, compassionate, striving, hoping...

Hoping I helped more than I hurt.


Despite the many miracles, the synchronicities, the progresses made...

I can't help but feel very much the same.

I still fall into this same empty, yet heavy, place.

I am still plagued by pain,

and still the only consistency I have,

is in my inconsistency.

My incongruity to the skewed systems and structures I see around me.

Conflicted in renunciation and acceptance,

individuality and community,

will and flow,

Action and acceptance,

all discrete and continuity swirling in the multitudes of the multiplicity in and around me:
truth and illusion,
love and attachment,
freedom and family,

What else do you want me to say?