Coldsweats

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giddybombs:

Ram Dass, Be Here Now, 1971

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artmoderation:

(via Killer Tune Art Print by Enkel Dika | Society6)

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Love is blind, they say; sex is impervious to reason and mocks the power of all philosophers. But, in fact, a person’s sexual choice is the result and sum of their fundamental convictions. Tell me what a person finds sexually attractive and I will tell you their entire philosophy of life. Show me the person they sleep with and I will tell you their valuation of themselves. No matter what corruption they’re taught about the virtue of selflessness, sex is the most profoundly selfish of all acts, an act which they cannot perform for any motive but their own enjoyment - just try to think of performing it in a spirit of selfless charity! - an act which is not possible in self-abasement, only in self-exultation, only on the confidence of being desired and being worthy of desire. It is an act that forces them to stand naked in spirit, as well as in body, and accept their real ego as their standard of value. They will always be attracted to the person who reflects their deepest vision of themselves, the person whose surrender permits them to experience - or to fake - a sense of self-esteem .. Love is our response to our highest values - and can be nothing else.

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It’s

drenched in doubt, in fear, in the salty puddle of tears that filled me up until I was drowning internally the day I thought we were over. It’s labeled by psychiatrists as a traumatizing experience, it was labeled by us as a break up. It’s our relationship and what is now left of it.

Redemption is a kindhearted offering, brings a serene atmosphere in the midst of the debris. Can we move on from this and start over - fresh new and untainted by the mistakes of our past? Obviously, we can “if we believe”, “if we set our minds to it”, I guess what I’m asking is: Will we ever let go and truly move on, together?

The human heart, the human female heart to be more exact is such a complex Pandora’s box of estrogen-ic intuition and emotion that it becomes more of a struggle to be happy with what one knows makes her happiest because of how heavy her heart has become. By her heart I mean the relationship, her drenched in salty tears of doubt and fear half of the heart that is now left.

If we’re giving ourselves a fresh beginning - wash our dirty laundry so to speak - dry this heart with the delicates as to not tear it up anymore than it is, invest into some new material to stitch up the holes, make it good as new - this is me and you.

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No matter what

You are alone in life. Despite your numbers of friends, lovers, family members, peers of all subjects - you are a solo act without stunt doubles to act in for the rough times. Until one can accept this devastating truth, they are stuck in the abyss of life haunted by the hope of happily ever after with loved ones. Your friends will have plans without you. Your loved ones will artistically break your heart. Your family will disown you at some point and visitations, gatherings and reunions will be the only time at which you are of meaning in their lives again. Your coworkers are only interested when you are in their presence at work. Your roommates will only listen while you are living under the same roof. Until this is an understanding in the depths of your psyche you are nothing but a weak fool.

No matter what you are on your own, for you yourself can’t abandon you - and even that can be bent out of proportion. You can leave yourself but your stuck with the remains, you are stuck loathing your reflection, your thoughts, your actions - but you can’t escape any and every mistake you have and will make in life, you can only simply live with them and continue to rue the days you’ve fucked yourself over.

So cheers to life and your drunken journey in solitude.

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Have you ever lost yourself in a kiss? I mean pure psychedelic inebriation. Not just lustful petting but transcendental metamorphosis when you became aware that the greatness of this being was breathing into you. Licking the sides and corners of your mouth, like sealing a thousand fleshy envelopes filled with the essence of your passionate being and then opened by the same mouth and delivered back to you, over and over again – the first kiss of the rest of your life. A kiss that confirms that the universe is aligned, that the world’s greatest resource is love, and maybe even that God is a woman. With or without a belief in God, all kisses are metaphors decipherable by allocations of time, circumstance, and understanding.

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.

Can’t imagine a life with you
Can’t imagine one without you
So I stay passive-aggressive, condescending and doubtful.
Mouth full of expletives, camera full of negatives
Our relationship never developed past sureletive.
Drunk Passed out, probably dreaming of a wonderland
Filled sympathetic, ex-lovers who under stand.
These sheets and pillows are destroyed with your breath
So I’m sleeping on floors to avoid the smell you left.

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Go after her. Fuck, don’t sit there and wait for her to call, go after her because that’s what you should do if you love someone, don’t wait for them to give you a sign cause it might never come, don’t let people happen to you, don’t let me happen to you, or her, she’s not a fucking television show or tornado. There are people I might have loved had they gotten on the airplane or run down the street after me or called me up drunk at four in the morning because they need to tell me right now and because they cannot regret this and I always thought I’d be the only one doing crazy things for people who would never give enough of a fuck to do it back or to act like idiots or be entirely vulnerable and honest and making someone fall in love with you is easy and flying 3000 miles on four days notice because you can’t just sit there and do nothing and breathe into telephones is not everyone’s idea of love but it is the way I can recognize it because that is what I do. Go scream it and be with her in meaningful ways because that is beautiful and that is generous and that is what loving someone is, that is raw and that is unguarded, and that is all that is worth anything, really.

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Righteous with reason.

Living as a grown woman, so to say your woman; I cook, I clean, I verbally and physically boost your ego when needed. I wash your clothes and clean the world around you, I pick up the financial slack you are unable to because times are hard. I am not your property, I am your savior cloaked in estrogen, draped in love. I am a better half. If you disagree with this definition of my being in relation to you, then I am not your woman.