The leaves become rusted in the cold rain. Branches begin to shiver in the wind instead of sway. It makes me smile. It’s real, the beautiful colours that coat the floor, the air, the branches. The crinkling leaves that crumple into delicious crumbs in you palm. Mmm. They crunch like the perfect apples waiting to be sliced into a sweet smelling pie. I can’t help but bite my lip at the leaves moving seductively across the streets. I’m too aroused to notice the kind of leaf, their just so gorgeous. The perfect dotting of rust and fading green, freckles coating the edges of some. Flowers slowly closing watch in jealousy of the perfect peek of the golden sun across the beauty of fall time.
“As you start looking inwards, you are amazed: you were ignoring yourself, and that was the trouble. That was why you were in misery, anxiety, suffering. You were trying everything to remove the misery, but it was caused by your unawareness, by your unconsciousness, by your ignorance of your own being. That was the cause. And unless that cause is removed, you will never have a taste of blissfulness, of ecstasy, of immortality, of the divineness of existence.”—Osho (via creatingaquietmind)
“Among other things, you’ll find that you’re not the first person who was ever confused, frightened and even sickened by human behaviour. You’re by no means alone on that score, you’ll be excited and stimulated to know. Many, many men have been just as troubled moral and spiritually as you are right now. Happily, some of them kept records of their troubles. You’ll learn from them - if you want to. Just as someday, if you have something to offer, someone will learn something from you. It’s a beautiful reciprocal arrangement. And it isn’t education. It’s history. It’s poetry.”—The Catcher in the Rye, J. D. Sallinger (via black-wolves)
“When people are ready to, they change. They never do it before then, and sometimes they die before they get around to it. You can’t make them change if they don’t want to, just like when they do want to, you can’t stop them.”—Andy Warhol (via creatingaquietmind)
Blowing my nose excessively and dreading going to sleep because I know my body will be working against me. This mostly not fun. But despite the blocked nose and itching throat I can feel my head starting to heal.
I talked to my mom today. We talked about moving out, sex, relationships, counselling, dad, family, me, us. She said that I have to try to talk to my dad, to have a relationship with him, one different than the one we have now. And I think that my parents believe that I don’t understand my dad, or sympathize with him, or respect him and the heart that beats beneath his tinted skin. But you see, this isn’t true. How could I not respect my dad? He raised me. And for all the faults hidden in the crevices of my lungs, I still believe I am a good person at heart. I give my parents full credit for that. He loved me. Loves me. He loves every hair on my head and every tooth rooted deep into my nerves. He loves me even when he yells at me. Even when I can see the frustration ripple across face like rolling waves circling a tide pool. Even then, I know he loves me because he raised me to be a good person. So yes, I can’t separate my floor from a shelf, or dirty dishes from decorations, or laundry from sweet smelling perfume. Yes. But I am still learning, just like he has to as well. And I understand more than most people how hard it is to change. It’s really hard, but I know that I can reach into the ventricles that snake their way around my body and grab onto something great within myself. I know my dad can do the same. I just hope he knows how grateful I am for laying himself at our feet, but today, today he needs to put himself back together so we can see each other. So we can start to change and grow.
I hope you’re okay. I hope you’re happy even in the midst of a hard world. I would like to hear from you from time to time but I know that’s not easy, and I would never ask that of you. I just hope that you’re becoming greater than you already are. I hope you’re smiling. I hope you’re okay.
I do not want to fix someone. I’m too busy working on myself. I wouldn’t want to date someone who isn’t doing the same, who doesn’t see the value in growth. I’m not here to hold someone’s hand while they learn how to grow up. I’m not a pre-school teacher; I’m not a therapist. A man is not an art project to be cut up into little pieces and glued back together. You’re your own fixer-upper, honey; do with that what you will.
I don’t want to date someone indifferent to themselves or to me. Is it an oddity that I don’t want to be treated like crap? I do not have time to hopelessly await someone’s phone call; I do not have time to place heaps of unwarranted blame on myself when someone or something seemingly ‘disappears.’ I don’t have the time to jump through hoops to prove that I am worthy of someone’s affections, and even if I did have the time? That’s not how I would spend it.
Which is why, when given the choice, I want to date a Good Guy. I want someone who is a real, flawed human being – someone who, despite those flaws, makes the conscious, ongoing effort to act benevolently toward the people around him. Someone who is capable of letting go of whatever Grave Injustices were done to him, who doesn’t blame the world for his misfortunes. Someone who respects himself, who wants to be with someone who will treat him the way he deserves to be treated. Someone who is nice but not a doormat, someone who is confident but not an asshole.
So, to the ladies who want assholes, keep them. I’ll take the sane, emotionally stable man any day.