Coffee #9: (Psycho) Delic

balls-748448_1280Psychedelic: 1950s -formed irregularly from psyche1 + Greek dēlos ‘clear, manifest’ + -ic.


Ice. Cold. Welcome to the four seasons.

It’s the season when “hot” cups of coffee is demanded at scalding temperatures.

So, I’ve lost feeling in my tongue from burning it all week. I have nooo idea how this stuff tastes.

I hope you made good tea. I’m trusting you, here.

 

Clear, Manifest

The year 2015 was a time of much reflection. The first time in many years that I slowed down. Stopped frantically hoping from project to project. Test after tests, hurdle after hurdle.

Never thinking. Reflecting. Contemplating. Expanding.

So I finally did.

And now, in 2016, I’m still reflecting, unpacking, dredging up stuff I thought I had forgotten. Things I have forgotten.

May I make an allegory?

There is a house, with many rooms. You spend time in some rooms more than others. But there is one closet, deep in the wing, way back in the corner of that one room you never enter anymore.

You made it off limits to yourself. You wanted to forget it was there.

But now you’re back.

You open the door, and the must and dust kicks up and makes you sneeze. You snap on the light, and the grey cobwebs sketch against the pale walls. The closet is crisscrossed with chains and locks. You hold a ring of keys that jingle as you cross the room, past the table and chair where the light hangs above, and approach the door. The keys grate through the locks, one after the other, the chains slam to the ground.

The last one falls away. You reach for the doorknob, and give it one final twist-

And stuff explodes out everywhere.

That’s what it’s like for me.

Disorganized stuff erupting all over, and now I’m pick the pieces up and trying to make sense of it all. Understand how all of this is me.

Eggads!!

People are So fricken complicated…

 

New Leaf

So, I’m changing myself. On the outside.

Say hello to the diet. I’ve been on this diet before, and it worked out great. Then I got stressed, shut down, and stuffed my face. For the billionth time.

I was so angry afterwards. I’d fucked up and it was my fault entirely. I did a lot of planning and thought to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Now is execution time.

I appreciate that people say that I’m fine, and look great without a diet. But let’s get real, I dress well, so I can hide how bad it is. And I know my body, and what is normal aches and pains, and what is a slow death by fat. I love that people are supportive, but that’s almost counter productive for me.

I need to do this, I need to be better, have better control of myself.

Exercise some fucking discipline for once.

Nothing worse than personal failure.

So, I’m not giving myself up again. I’m not giving up on myself. I’m the only one who can get myself where I need to be.

But diet isn’t just the end, it’s only the beginning.

I implement exercise shortly. It’s a gradual thing, I’ve never exercised seriously, without being forced in gym class or otherwise, ever in my life, and I’ve never had a good example in my life, growing up, for consistent exercise regimes. Not my father, not my mother, nor anyone else.

So will be me, starting from less than scratch.

I’ll learn, I’m good like that.

Thank kakarot for Google.

 

Disjointed

If my dialogue here isn’t as smooth, it is an accurate reflection of me lately.

Equilibrium will return, I’m sure.

Once I can sleep.

Oh, yes, my sleep, or lack thereof. I haven’t gotten much sleep this week, but I’m working on that too.

 

Failure

I hate Arrow (2012) now, and I can’t take it seriously. But one thing does echo in my ears.

The part when Oliver shouts “___, You have failed this city!!”

My inner dialogue eats it up. Like it’s sugar frosted sin.

Now, everywhere I go, I have this inner dialogue of “You have failed”, cycling in the background. My inner soundtrack.

Sometimes I enjoy torturing myself too much.

 

So, yeah, no HE – happy ending

I’d rather be honest than forced to lie.

Here it is. And in conclusion, I am human. I have good days and bad. This just happens to be, not such a good day.

So, just give me a hug. And let’s finish our tea, and stare out at the skyline covered in snow. Let us sit in silence with our thoughts.

Let nature do it’s thing and wipe the day clean.

Let’s start over.

Tomorrow.

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opalflame

I am artist, analyst, author, poet, composer, musician to name a few aspects of myself. A bit of a jack of trades, I dabble into many fields that encourage the blossom of imagination and allow me to channel my creativity. I dream vividly and view the world through the lens of optimism and opportunity while acknowledging the ink and shadows.

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