(no subject)
So. Diary time.
Had a dream last night that included seeing my deceased grandmother. Added up all the elements and apparently I have to stop drifting and get focused or I’m going to screw up the positive event line that has been in my future for a while. So today I’m going to do a follow up phone call with my music contacts, apply for that job I’ve been umming and ahhhing over, aply for next years uni papers and get some exercise done.
Why have I been drifting? I’ve felt like I’ve been in Rotorua too long, I’ve been at home with my parents too long… it’s too long when making nice is becoming an effort. I guess it’s because I’ve been trying to disappear for a while, and we all know how that doesn’t work. Some people have drug addictions, I tend to mentally and emotionally withdraw from everyone and everything. As we all know, there are no forms of effective, permanent escapism. Damn it. Not even death.
Apparently my repetitious need to ‘leave’ stems from this life I had a thousand or so years ago when after leading a whole bunch of people into battle I was the only one to survive. Survivors guilt. I remember telling myself then ‘never again’. I always thought that just meant I’d never agree to live a life where I went to war and was responsible for anyone again. After I died I realised that no matter what decision I had made, the outcome would have been the same, and that everyone who died had known before they had chosen their lives that that was what was going to happen. It was something they needed to experience for some reason or another on their karmic journey. So not my fault. Or so you’d intellectually understand it as being such.
But that hasn’t stoped me apparently from withdrawing from everyone and everything in every life since. In that life I never went home to my family, and in every life since I’ve never fallen in love… because I didn’t feel I deserved it, because I couldn’t be responsible for them, because I wouldn’t hurt that badly again if I loved them and failed to protect them.
My last life I was a guy in America with my own restaurant called Max’s. I can still remember changing the table cloths from a green white small flower type to red and white gingham. I used to drive to Canada in the fall because I liked the colour changes in the leaves of the trees, whole forests of them. I was relatively well off. I committed suicide in the early 70’s when I was about 50 or so, and through that abandoned yet again anyone who cared for me. What a selfish bastard, huh?
This time round my karmic lessons are humility and love. It says something that I’m a singer tying to get famous and I’ve been single for seven years. And the worst of it is, I want to be successful and I’ve been happy alone. How the fuck am I going to get into a relationship with genuine intention, knowing that they’d always deserve more because I couldn’t love them like they need, like anyone deserves?
I do care about people. I love them in a part of the human race, as brother and sister souls on this journey of self knowledge and realignment with Gods intention for us, kind way. But romantic love? Even love that means never leaving because that person means so much to you that you can’t imagine not being there for them in the same way they are for you? Apparently I haven’t felt that kind of love for over a thousand years, for over who knows how many life times.
So am I just scared? Scared to fail? Scared to rediscover that kind of love only to have them leave me because on the karmic scale of things, that’s what I’ve got coming? What I fucking deserve.
Anyone noticed how I use the word apparently so much? It’s because I know it’s true, because I’m pissed off about it. Because I’m constantly disappointed in myself. Anyone who knows me tends to think I’m a nice person, that I only want the best for them, and that’s true as far that I’ve done free counselling for anyone who wanted it, helped anyone who’s needed it and tried to be a good mother and friend. But that’s all they’ve ever had from me. And the simple fact is, that if I could leave them all and be a hermit in some forgotten corner of the world, I would. And I would forget them over time because really, I wasn’t that emotionally invested. And the only reason I don’t is because I know why I’d be doing it, and I’d be even more disappointed in myself than I already am. And the karma buck has to stop sometime. I read somewhere that the definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing over and over again and expecting to get a different result. I’m sick of feeling disappointed in myself, and I know damn well that if I don’t sort this out it’s only going to get worse.
I’m only going to end up owing more and more karma to the people I keep abandoning.
How do you stop a cycle of abandonment when all you really want is to be alone. To not feel obligated to anyone, to not feel responsible for or towards anyone. And the only reasons to break the cycle is so you won’t feel disappointed in yourself and the knowledge that if you don’t, you don’t finish the karmic journey, you don’t get to be with God again. And even though I know that creative entity exists, even though I feel it, it’s not ‘real’ enough to change anything… because even God has expectations and God deserves my responsibility.
There is no nice way to end this. I’m never committing suicide again, I know that doesn’t work, and believe me I understand why it’s wrong. You know these things when you’re on the other side trying to dredge up the guilt that you’re expected to feel, and that you do feel when you realise that you just basically told God to ‘fuck off’ and you spit in his face destroying one of the most amazing gifts he ever created for any entity in the whole history of creation. Survivors guilt. Believe me, you’re supposed to feel bad enough to never do it again, but at the same time there is all the support in the universe to help you over come whatever it was to lead you to that mistake. So even though you’re totally supported in love, you end up feeling like you owe more people, that you have more responsibility to them than when you started and it’s this whole cycle that sucks because death, real death is NEVER on the cards.
But I guess it’s going to be like everything else in life. It actually hurts worse thinking about it and trying to avoid it, than it actually hurts in practice when you finally get over yourself and do it. So hiding from life is like using a bandaid, rip it off and see the real gore underneath. It’s not as bad as you thought and the fresh air will help you heal faster.
It’s just that it’s a fucking big bandaid.
Had a dream last night that included seeing my deceased grandmother. Added up all the elements and apparently I have to stop drifting and get focused or I’m going to screw up the positive event line that has been in my future for a while. So today I’m going to do a follow up phone call with my music contacts, apply for that job I’ve been umming and ahhhing over, aply for next years uni papers and get some exercise done.
Why have I been drifting? I’ve felt like I’ve been in Rotorua too long, I’ve been at home with my parents too long… it’s too long when making nice is becoming an effort. I guess it’s because I’ve been trying to disappear for a while, and we all know how that doesn’t work. Some people have drug addictions, I tend to mentally and emotionally withdraw from everyone and everything. As we all know, there are no forms of effective, permanent escapism. Damn it. Not even death.
Apparently my repetitious need to ‘leave’ stems from this life I had a thousand or so years ago when after leading a whole bunch of people into battle I was the only one to survive. Survivors guilt. I remember telling myself then ‘never again’. I always thought that just meant I’d never agree to live a life where I went to war and was responsible for anyone again. After I died I realised that no matter what decision I had made, the outcome would have been the same, and that everyone who died had known before they had chosen their lives that that was what was going to happen. It was something they needed to experience for some reason or another on their karmic journey. So not my fault. Or so you’d intellectually understand it as being such.
But that hasn’t stoped me apparently from withdrawing from everyone and everything in every life since. In that life I never went home to my family, and in every life since I’ve never fallen in love… because I didn’t feel I deserved it, because I couldn’t be responsible for them, because I wouldn’t hurt that badly again if I loved them and failed to protect them.
My last life I was a guy in America with my own restaurant called Max’s. I can still remember changing the table cloths from a green white small flower type to red and white gingham. I used to drive to Canada in the fall because I liked the colour changes in the leaves of the trees, whole forests of them. I was relatively well off. I committed suicide in the early 70’s when I was about 50 or so, and through that abandoned yet again anyone who cared for me. What a selfish bastard, huh?
This time round my karmic lessons are humility and love. It says something that I’m a singer tying to get famous and I’ve been single for seven years. And the worst of it is, I want to be successful and I’ve been happy alone. How the fuck am I going to get into a relationship with genuine intention, knowing that they’d always deserve more because I couldn’t love them like they need, like anyone deserves?
I do care about people. I love them in a part of the human race, as brother and sister souls on this journey of self knowledge and realignment with Gods intention for us, kind way. But romantic love? Even love that means never leaving because that person means so much to you that you can’t imagine not being there for them in the same way they are for you? Apparently I haven’t felt that kind of love for over a thousand years, for over who knows how many life times.
So am I just scared? Scared to fail? Scared to rediscover that kind of love only to have them leave me because on the karmic scale of things, that’s what I’ve got coming? What I fucking deserve.
Anyone noticed how I use the word apparently so much? It’s because I know it’s true, because I’m pissed off about it. Because I’m constantly disappointed in myself. Anyone who knows me tends to think I’m a nice person, that I only want the best for them, and that’s true as far that I’ve done free counselling for anyone who wanted it, helped anyone who’s needed it and tried to be a good mother and friend. But that’s all they’ve ever had from me. And the simple fact is, that if I could leave them all and be a hermit in some forgotten corner of the world, I would. And I would forget them over time because really, I wasn’t that emotionally invested. And the only reason I don’t is because I know why I’d be doing it, and I’d be even more disappointed in myself than I already am. And the karma buck has to stop sometime. I read somewhere that the definition of insanity is to keep doing the same thing over and over again and expecting to get a different result. I’m sick of feeling disappointed in myself, and I know damn well that if I don’t sort this out it’s only going to get worse.
I’m only going to end up owing more and more karma to the people I keep abandoning.
How do you stop a cycle of abandonment when all you really want is to be alone. To not feel obligated to anyone, to not feel responsible for or towards anyone. And the only reasons to break the cycle is so you won’t feel disappointed in yourself and the knowledge that if you don’t, you don’t finish the karmic journey, you don’t get to be with God again. And even though I know that creative entity exists, even though I feel it, it’s not ‘real’ enough to change anything… because even God has expectations and God deserves my responsibility.
There is no nice way to end this. I’m never committing suicide again, I know that doesn’t work, and believe me I understand why it’s wrong. You know these things when you’re on the other side trying to dredge up the guilt that you’re expected to feel, and that you do feel when you realise that you just basically told God to ‘fuck off’ and you spit in his face destroying one of the most amazing gifts he ever created for any entity in the whole history of creation. Survivors guilt. Believe me, you’re supposed to feel bad enough to never do it again, but at the same time there is all the support in the universe to help you over come whatever it was to lead you to that mistake. So even though you’re totally supported in love, you end up feeling like you owe more people, that you have more responsibility to them than when you started and it’s this whole cycle that sucks because death, real death is NEVER on the cards.
But I guess it’s going to be like everything else in life. It actually hurts worse thinking about it and trying to avoid it, than it actually hurts in practice when you finally get over yourself and do it. So hiding from life is like using a bandaid, rip it off and see the real gore underneath. It’s not as bad as you thought and the fresh air will help you heal faster.
It’s just that it’s a fucking big bandaid.