Please help me. I don’t want to die.
I am sorry for being arrogant and irresponsible with my life. I don’t know what to do. Please give me another chance and I will change everything. Please God hear me and help me. I don’t want to die yet. It doesn’t feel like it’s my time. But if that is your will, I will still do all I can to survive as long as possible.
I have only barely begun to learn about myself and what life is. Please let me stay and change things. Please help me, give me strength and courage, faith, trust and love. Give me the physical vitality to heal and be in good health for many years. I will do your will.
Dear God, I am not ready to die yet. Please help me live.
But if I do die, please help me then too.”
I’ve spent my life looking for you. I don’t know where to start but to tell you that I love you.
Torn like heaven spills the sky
I tore her face open
minutes lapping against the rocks
a cold hard place beyond the shore
from her eyes fell
into the pool of living water
A storm was coming and it was late at night.
I was all alone, lying in the bed, staring at the ceiling. Tears and pain and an aching heart. No way to get it out. The quiet words, what I couldn’t hear, how nobody really loved me. I lay there throbbing and limp, overwhelmed by the silence in His eyes.
The room was dark and cold and the rain was beating down, tap tap tap on the metal roof.
The quiet was eating my brain, these feelings don’t have words. My heart was struck by the
invisible person between the two of us. I had thought I had finally found you but you didn’t seem to care. This other person, she’s horribly wrong about you. What she told me you did, I don’t believe her at all. Where are you when the sun comes up? Every morning you aren’t there.
She’s a liar and I’m sad that you never talk to me.
She seems to know about you, what you haven’t shown to me. The bone, the teeth, the pictures
of young girls, the words I never heard. She said you make her happy and I’m only there to cook.
Night after night I lay in bed alone, with you, way over there, and I listen for anything that might sound like you and me together. But it’s Her,
it’s always her, laughing at how old I have become. If I could change to that I would. If I could die to be there. If I could lift you into me or drain into your feet, I would. Instead I lay pinned, silent and wet with tears. The way she moves
and sways into you, I know you love her more than me. She’s reckless and she’s violent. She’s
between us, in the sheets.
I can’t stop her from eating you alive.
I try to save you.
I try to pray then forget what I wanted to say. To God, whose eyes were blue, I’m deeply in love with the loss of you.
Eyes that don’t see me
Who are you looking for?
break the mirror
The storm is closer now…and he’s falling into me me again….tap tap tap…falling rain upon the roof.
She isn’t anywhere when he calls her name.
Thunder and Lightening and Rain.
It’s a little house and the bed is next to the window.
“There is a beautiful ring
around the Moon,
Sunlight can you hear me?
She turned silently
in her body bag…”
I lay here still staring at the ceiling and it’s
almost over because the rain has stopped.
“He doesn’t love me at all” echoes. echoes.
echoes. But I don’t hear you anymore. I’m bruised and almost empty. The sky is dark and dry and quiet. “It’s hard to break old habits sometimes” I know. And my love is deep.
What did I want to tell you?
He’s gone, but I still hear him talking,
back and forth, inside my head
“pick up these clothes, put your shirt on”
“you’re nobody! nothing!” He said
Ok. Let me remember, down on my knees.
“God please help me. Please help me. I love you”
P.S. “He was just a shadow on the wall”
She swallowed the sky and yawned. With Her mouth open wide She said, “Who’s your master?” and he said, “You are”
flattened by the crush of flesh between them,
I said nothing. It was awkward and the room turned red…
until She rose naked and black and laughing
at me – me the one bound in white and feathers…
“Angels don’t bleed” She said.
(as if I was telling some sort of lie)
THE LOVE TRIANGLE was written by me.
have you read it?
There was a time that I was morbidly afraid of myself. The depth of my darkness and subsequent evil was overwhelming to me. I felt at anytime She would possess me and make me do things that I would later regret. Because I was not in control of Her, I was deeply disturbed. I had ideas of good and bad and of what it would take for me to be spiritual. While there may be some truth to my ideas, how I would arrive at a
compromise between the two, would take time,
courage and patience. The rules and regulations,
philosophy and reason mean nothing to Her.
My primal nature did not subside because I
thought that it should. We cannot ignore the urges that brought us into being. The mythic gods and goddesses that seep through us and copulate with one another came here long before us, starting fires, building mountains and having intercourse. They alone wrote the laws and these laws are transparent and scare us to death. I cannot subdue your rise to godhood or reroute your golden elixir. This is the churning of the ocean at the end of time. The cracking of the shell about to break…
It seems we have a problem and it wasn’t what we thought. I’m telling her “No. Get Back. Sit down. Be good!” And she’s only pushing me harder and so I start dancing and taking off my clothes for money. I start doing drugs and howling at the moon. It’s what’s bound to happen when the leash is too tight. “Who’s the master?” “You are” I said. We were crazy when we were harnessed. We were peeling back the scab “what happened to me? How did I get here?” And your boyfriend is your daddy.
“Whose in charge now?” That’s a good question.
I thought She was going to kill me. Well, I told you this already and I’ve been very close. I’ve seen cold eyes and I’ve looked through them.
I’ve risen from the pyre, bones as light as air,
dancing inside of the fire and smoke. I did it for Her.
It’s not Her fault and by now you know that She is a diamond multi faceted and clear. This relationship is is not definable
in proper language. It spins all over the place, skidding, screeching and sometimes perfectly smooth. She’s talking to you, that’s why I’m here. So my words come in fragments and hues. My words come disguised and retracted.
My words come as an Oracle who doesn’t listen to the question. I’m sorry, I just can’t do it my way anymore.
And you understand, my way would be steady and coherent. My way might even comfort you or coax you in further. But we can’t know Her until we stop trying to contain Her. We will never make sense of Her plan or Her next move. My way is just a joke because there is no my way.
This is the revelation of decapitation.
Then the new day came and we were still together. So that you know, he was never my victim. He was my circumstance. My bull with horns. I’m a fighter who always wins.
The sunrise bled white and red
The sun came through the window
hooks in the glass
I didn’t want anyone but you
(breathing in your eyes
shafts of what I could have been)
I just find this violence appalling. Pushing. pushing, back and forth. Have you seen His horns? Maybe you will pretend you don’t know
what I mean. Maybe you will call your experience
of Him “bullshit” I don’t like that word but this woman who emailed me this morning certainly does. She was living a superficially spiritual life
pretending to be a Kali Devotee. She didn’t pretend on purpose but you know how SHE reels us in one way or another until one day this woman got into a car accident and felt the reality of impending death for real this time. Her reaction has been a backlash against herself so much so that she sends me this email:
(and it’s not the first of its kind)
this is her email to me:
“I wish I could watch you and babas videos like I used to
i don’t know where it went
all i think when i watch is “narcissistic bullshit”
im not trying to be an asshole
i watch because i want to be fed in the same old way i used to be
but i cant
all i hear is myself saying “bullshit….quit making blogs and videos about being a nobody and just do it….disappear….and be a nobody from nobody….not a somebody teaching people to be a no body…….but a real nobody…until then……all bullshit.”
things are not as fun when you hear this all the time now
and to everyone
but more untolerant of it when its wearing “spiritual clothing and veils”
its not as fun
but i cant turn it off
i sit in the monastic quarters bitching to the swamis while they make me soup that its all bullshit
and they wear orange like they are naked
but its bullshit
and worse than normal bullshit because its pretty and smells like incense so you never even question it
its the worst kind of insidious bullshit
wearing scripture like lipstick
dreadlocks like pearls
and Vedanta philosophy like a see through silk veil
but a veil is still a veil
its all the same
im not saying i want to be naked and free
i know that’s not true
im not pretending to be interested anymore
i sadly know what im working with now
i am not allowed to tell that lie to myself anymore
and i guess im pissed about that
i would have liked to keep doing it until the day i died
it was nice
i liked seeing myself through those lying eyes
so i guess because i am no longer allowed im pissed when i see other people still allowed
it makes me grouchy
sometimes i try to watch videos and connect for nostalgic reasons
to try to drink from that same old fountain once again
but its not the same
no matter how hard i try
all i hear is “bullshit”
kind of sucks
sounds like im mad at you or something
just the opposite
i come back to see if what was once there still is
for sentimental reasons
or just to see
to revisit past dreams
dreams of magic and trust and believing in everything people say
and that everyone was a saint
i was full of make believe magic, trust and believing everything i told myself
about myself without question…
most of the time i accept it
but other days
i go back and try to see differently
to see if i can resurrect the old me….”
So of course my response needs to be appropriate and caring right? That’s what an aspiring spiritual teacher claiming “nobodyhood” would probably do. She’s been sending these emails for a couple years now, it’s tiring. She hasn’t arrived anywhere, none of us have. She’s just pissed at The Her who
flips her and flops her…
This woman should write her own blog if She doesn’t “approve” of my bullshit narcissism. And why is she reading about this profound nobody’s opinions anyway?
Moths to the fire. That’s Why.
I love Her. She’s really sweet.
this is my reply email to her:
“You are not as smart as you think you are.
You really lack insight and your bullshit
is all about you. Stop judging and wishing.
Grow up and get over yourself. It’s boring.
No one is stopping you from feeling as profound as you want to going back to college, changing diapers or whatever it is that you do.
Bitterness is ugly and selfish.
from your spiritual teacher,
Sharada Devi ”
(you must know I’m being sarcastic, because she
didn’t- and it was really funny!!!)
and it goes on…and I’m telling you because it’s a ridiculous landscape.
We’re all outside mowing, pruning
and planting seeds for future food…
Is there really a Me and a You?
Am I just writing to myself?
I really do think so.
She writes to no one
she looks at no one
she hardly ever speaks
the loss that bore her
shook her loose
from its breast
she has no food
The letter at the top that I wrote to God was real I wrote it while on anti anxiety medication the day before my most recent near death encounter. This was serious. I’d missed too many cues, the stakes were too high, He, The Doctor, told me I was going to die. I was walking on a cloud, it was surreal. It was real. I think I wasn’t. My reaction to near death numbing fear was to find my security in what wasn’t apparent. Like my body or anything material for that matter. And it wasn’t like I was “searching” for it, I was just primally driven to a place that is much deeper inside. I have to know HER no matter what. I cannot have these loose emotional ends, the mental uselessness always planning, analyzing, observing and solving.
The talking needs to end.
The great losses have not divided us after all.
The emailing woman then said, that I should stop “trying to get enlightened” and I don’t even know what that means? it’s just a mental waste, a trap, thinking of a word like enlightenment and a destination like “getting there” There are no words to say but we need words to support the result don’t we? We need each other to be be ourselves don’t we? We would like to be independent but let’s
face it, It’s them who define us, not us who know anything of our existence. We are just a mind cloud
seeking containment- the release of thunder- the comfort of grey skies means I AM HERE- and this eye of
the storm has nothing to gain or to see but it’s own nakedness. It’s own violent unreality.
How will I rain down on you is the question? Will you see me crying inside you? Will I even know that you’re there getting wet because of me?
She’s there. I know She is. I’ve gotten many emails…
“I am the shadow of myself
I am the warm water
in an old puddle”
That’s all I ever really meant to say.
All alone and haunted by Her
lullabies of disarray…
I can’t reach any deeper but into your heart.