i like to say that i live under water...because i don't consider myself to be a "surface skimmer." I weeded my way through thousands of surface skimmers and here and there, i finally got the courage to go under water and holy fuck...there is life way down there near the bottom. there's no natural light from a natural source like the sun illuminates the surface. The light on the bottom is created by reflection; reflections that can only be created deep beneath the superficiality of that top layer.
don't get me wrong...it was a long fuckin' journey...but i realized eventually that it IS worth it to leave the surface skimmers to their fast and dissatisfying ventures...because one person at the bottom can supply me with enough insight to maintain hope in faith - faith not in something divine, but faith in other PEOPLE, which, in my world, is very powerful. It only ever became that important when after years of slithering about the surface layer, i stopped one day.
i tried to find the exit to my box.
no creases, perforations, openings...no air.
can't see in if you can't get out.
*pause for effect*
i couldn't get out.
and then i began to fall...
a weight suddenly wrapped around my ankle, pulling me under. I went down...struggling the entire time at the thought of unfamiliar territory, struggling to breathe, fighting to free my foot from the entanglement. the water was getting colder and the light, more distant.
i finally freed my ankle, somewhere in the midst of the cold darkness of the water. the concept of the ocean in general is beyond what my mind is able to comprehend. there were people present here in this midsection. i'd interacted with the type daily. very dimly lit. I call them the "settlers." there are many times where i have been a "settler."
"settlers" settle. they linger in the dimly lit water, yet still have to go to the surface to refill their lungs with air. they go through the motions, stay in a relationship or a marriage because it's just easier, yet starve mentally & physically for some sort of external stimulation, worry that they won't be able to support themselves alone, don't want to leave a job or a relationship until there's another job or person to replace that security or codependent need to be with someone...ANYone just as long as it's someone...
i do not pass judgement. I walk only in my own shoes. but i am a quiet observer of humanity. and the dim light in that region of the ocean makes me TIRED. Its full of overcompensation for insecurity with arrogance, insults and social hierarchies, secrets, racism and hate, false embellishments and disappointments (see future book that I write entitled "I Have a Big Dick"), shitty parents and abused and neglected children.
i feel sometimes like i seek something that no one believes in anymore. like my quest for "REAL" can be shrugged off and laughed at.
"Ha! Good luck with that, Amanda."
Why, though? Why is it so off kilter to seek real people? And why is it so rare that I do? I sometimes wonder to myself if I'm the pompous ass, thinking to myself: if i could actually find that person to be in a relationship with, who had nothing to hide and found comfort and solace is existing as nothing more than the person that they are, i might have a shot at everlasting love...
but maybe that's just me...
I was able to free my foot from the weight and was beginning to feel the growing need for air. i looked to the surface and it's easy light and it's endless supply of clutter and madness and i headed there,... and just when i thought i would fill my lungs with water and drown, something caught my eye.
from far beneath me, resting comfortably on the ocean floor, was a split second flash of light...
i hesitated, with less than a fraction of a second to weigh the opportunity cost - and although the surface light was offering a quick and easy fix of air, the luminescence of that little tiny spark captivated me...and once my mind decided to go deep for the small light, my physical being seem to accommodate the capacity to maintain some form of oxygen
...and i descended.
And on the way down, i seemed to shed the fear of how i would get back up to the surface as that vast and endless light faded and the sounds of the trite and superficial became easier to disregard.
as i got closer, which seemed to last for a lifetime and for a moment, i realized that this scintillating flash was the result of the a very small collection of the most authentic and genuine people, extracted at random points from the timeline of my life, together holding up the very weight that had dragged me to the bottom.
the real people...
...together, they were tilting this weight in such a way that it yielded an irrefutable and very powerful light...
...an emanation from the reflection of pointing that weight...
...directly at me...
they all taught me to breathe underwater... i rarely go up to the surface for air anymore...
i tried to find the exit to my box.
no creases, perforations, openings...no air.
can't see in if you can't get out.
*pause for effect*
i couldn't get out.
and then i began to fall...
a weight suddenly wrapped around my ankle, pulling me under. I went down...struggling the entire time at the thought of unfamiliar territory, struggling to breathe, fighting to free my foot from the entanglement. the water was getting colder and the light, more distant.
i finally freed my ankle, somewhere in the midst of the cold darkness of the water. the concept of the ocean in general is beyond what my mind is able to comprehend. there were people present here in this midsection. i'd interacted with the type daily. very dimly lit. I call them the "settlers." there are many times where i have been a "settler."
"settlers" settle. they linger in the dimly lit water, yet still have to go to the surface to refill their lungs with air. they go through the motions, stay in a relationship or a marriage because it's just easier, yet starve mentally & physically for some sort of external stimulation, worry that they won't be able to support themselves alone, don't want to leave a job or a relationship until there's another job or person to replace that security or codependent need to be with someone...ANYone just as long as it's someone...
i do not pass judgement. I walk only in my own shoes. but i am a quiet observer of humanity. and the dim light in that region of the ocean makes me TIRED. Its full of overcompensation for insecurity with arrogance, insults and social hierarchies, secrets, racism and hate, false embellishments and disappointments (see future book that I write entitled "I Have a Big Dick"), shitty parents and abused and neglected children.
i feel sometimes like i seek something that no one believes in anymore. like my quest for "REAL" can be shrugged off and laughed at.
"Ha! Good luck with that, Amanda."
Why, though? Why is it so off kilter to seek real people? And why is it so rare that I do? I sometimes wonder to myself if I'm the pompous ass, thinking to myself: if i could actually find that person to be in a relationship with, who had nothing to hide and found comfort and solace is existing as nothing more than the person that they are, i might have a shot at everlasting love...
but maybe that's just me...
I was able to free my foot from the weight and was beginning to feel the growing need for air. i looked to the surface and it's easy light and it's endless supply of clutter and madness and i headed there,... and just when i thought i would fill my lungs with water and drown, something caught my eye.
from far beneath me, resting comfortably on the ocean floor, was a split second flash of light...
i hesitated, with less than a fraction of a second to weigh the opportunity cost - and although the surface light was offering a quick and easy fix of air, the luminescence of that little tiny spark captivated me...and once my mind decided to go deep for the small light, my physical being seem to accommodate the capacity to maintain some form of oxygen
...and i descended.
And on the way down, i seemed to shed the fear of how i would get back up to the surface as that vast and endless light faded and the sounds of the trite and superficial became easier to disregard.
as i got closer, which seemed to last for a lifetime and for a moment, i realized that this scintillating flash was the result of the a very small collection of the most authentic and genuine people, extracted at random points from the timeline of my life, together holding up the very weight that had dragged me to the bottom.
the real people...
...together, they were tilting this weight in such a way that it yielded an irrefutable and very powerful light...
...an emanation from the reflection of pointing that weight...
...directly at me...
...it was here that I began to discover myself.
