Somewhere from falling back. The multiple vantage point awareness from one to the other. I continue to wake in fear, not fear, and indifference. The video record holds an image, a non image. The disappointment is held in the air, forgotten in the air. New pleasures evade and taunt the dutiful servant. The perversion blesses the saint and sinner forgets, calls in the air, holds hands in the air and witnesses nothing.

woke up to this. sent this home. got slapped in the face by this. listen to music because of this. crying because of this getting high because of this. not getting high because of this. allowing this to break me. hating you and the others out of fear. collapse. the spinning world tells me your eyes and lips and hair cause extreme anxiety in the bar. staring at the wall at the lights at the ice at the paper is not like staring into your eyes.

wandering into and out of never quite knowing how the line ends before a thought or a new wave or expression falls the new explicitly reviving the old a sense forward of possibility of failure or success pleasing no one and replacing motion with stillness.

The feeling of being wrong, of seeing differences, of wanting to escape. People meet and the feeling is there, unknowable as to how it arose. There is the sense of I want what I can't have, and I don't want to want what I can't have. Double bind. Beautiful reason to let go of it all, accept the loss of future happiness. How easily the fear dissolves and forms again. It comes and goes in a clear light and is made out of nothing. There is no celebration or dullness. Red flowers, blue pools of water, green hills, pink flesh, white light and black space. A cross, a breast, a nipple, lips. Contracting, retreat, facing, loving, making love.

I am stricken with this realization. There is only this moment. What could this mean? Realization occurs in time and this moment is timeless. So much so that it has no material existence. Other than everything that is, was and ever will be.

without the underlying space each contact, physically, would be self- referential and therefore, not "felt". such as attention can include a wider focus, the individual friction phenomena can be "seen" as part of the greater whole. when seen through attention, this whole is found to be edgeless. this can not be understood because the mind requires boundaries around something in order to focus on it. therefore the mind exists in awareness and can think about itself and in doing so must begin to put limitations on its own existence. this only occurs when attention "uses" thinking to focus(think) on itself.

I fell in love with means there was a movement, amidst continual movement. This is stillness. Time to move again. There is only this. Time to move again. Speak from true understanding or suffer continually the misconceived solidity of perception. I am sorry. I kept you all with me too long. You are beautiful and I want it. I am afraid to lose or be left out, stuck with emptiness and pain so I hang on continually. I am sorry. It hurts. I forgive this pain, yet it continues. I tried to let you be so that the pain would stop and reveal a greater beauty, but I still hang on. Funny little hanger. I love me.

walked over there, worked over there, looked at that, moved in my sleep. wanted this, that. felt deserving, felt small. need more time, want to get out. know it is good, feel satisfied, feel wrong, feel against. move from one to the next. aware of the others, moving. aware of when it makes sense, aware of pain, aware of fear, aware of breaking, aware of not knowing why, aware of not being a man, aware of cowering, aware of making mistakes, aware of lusting, all the time, aware of laughing, aware of pretending to laugh, aware of wanting to be wanted, aware of hiding from being wanted, not wanting, being aroused and not wanting it, judgment. bad habits, mental negativity, not liking what is, wanting to change to the better, knowing it will change, and fearing something i can not see, knowing i can't prove that i am wrong and then being proven wrong. thank you pain, thank you hate, thank you lust for what is always mocking me, i will not cut myself again.

where are you

An impromptu portrait birthday present.

Here is a hand drawn dress. It is an American Apparel size small, long sleeve, turtle neck with heat set fabric ink. It is stretchy. Thanks for looking. This item is sold.

Even that which goes, even that which is absent seen clearly, as clarity exists ever present, there can be no reality to the confusion, the sense that what comes and goes, there can be no form to that which is absent, for we have the power and this power can not be owned yet is held somehow, inexplicably without pressure, the sensations of pressure and letting go reduce to physical impulses, that by which our loss of the idea is the only true loss somehow can mirror in the stream of time a finality to its disappearance and correctness to it having gone.

I know that I do not know. Thank you for your assistance in these matters. I am lost again, but it does not seem to carry significance. Just looking is all that can be done. If you notice it, the biggest apparatus is looking. More powerful than physical movements or telling an idea. Without vision there is still sight, looking at no vision. I can not believe it sometimes. Something is here, then I ignore it and it is gone. Making art is that. If I ignore it... it is gone.