Chaos: Into the flow...

The last half of a journal entry...

with some edits/redactions.

~*~

As I type, I feel a dissatisfaction

I feel my self wanting to physically shake it off

"It" being this feeling

What is this feeling?
Is it of neediness?
Desire of wanting to be wanted?
Desire of wanting to be special?
Desire of wanting to be beautiful?

Desire of wanting to feel beautiful and loved and appreciated and wanted and the most special person in the world?

And I feel alone...

I feel resentment...

And anger...

And I want Other to hurt...

To emotionally hurt like me....

And I wish I didn't feel this way...

And I take a deep breath...

What can I do to help myself?
How does this tie into the pain of entering my memory into that era of murkiness?
Making my way through the corridors and rooms and levels....
The meandering pathways...
Through the gardens...

Into the cellar...

How can I enter that time?

How can I hold the pain?

Honor it?

Allow it to be honest with me?

Letting me know what it is that I am afraid of...

What do I fear from the pain?

Will I discover my deepest flaws?

My own arrogance...

My own narcissism...

These parts of me that I don't want to believe were ever my motivations...

But perhaps they were...

Perhaps they still are?

My own hypocrisy, in bold...

Flashing lively colors...

Streaks...

Not peaceful or calm or harmonious like a sunset...

But loud, sharp, blazing, disturbing....

Angles, not curves...

Rigid chaos...

Not purposed, flowing chaos...

With swirls and curves and meanderings of beauty...

Chaotically organized into lush scenes... 

That lead into wonder and tranquility....

I think for 2022, I will spill words...

However disorganized they may come out....

Take the pitcher...

And pour, Carol...

Pour...