Surrealist

Life Pouring Out Into Nothingness
And a pile of truths, from the acceptance of the abyss of the creative mind.

Philosophy feels too easy sometimes. As such, when reading the philosophy of others, I feel frustrated. How did they find time to write and publish? Why do they have more readers than I? Will I ever be able to communicate sufficiently to the world? And, what do I mean by, “to the world?”

I have a theory about why time hastens with age; I’m sure I’m right. I think I have a unified field theory in physics that I’ve maintained as true for years. I figured out the meaning of life, written about it, and read it for my thesis reading. That was that.

I am convinced I know how to self heal through minutia self-massage. I know the best and most novel meditation techniques for people with type I bipolar, most of which I’ve created over the past decade. I think I have the perfect synergistic tea infusion blend. That last one is more subjective. But the rest are not.

I know how to be persuasive. Or, at least when I’m not being controlled by my emotions. I (usually?) know how to calm my own mind, in the midst of emotional reactivity. I know how to fall asleep almost perfectly. I know how to set boundaries with family (that’s new) and also how to cut people off when we both don’t need to indulge the pain. I’ve taught myself a plethora of skills. I even enjoy public speaking, as well as writing, practicing, and performing standup comedy.

I know how to sew; I know how to knit; I know how to bake. I don’t, however, know how to date. I know how to style my hair and kind of how to cut it alright. I know how to pierce ears pretty well, too. I can paint just fine. I enjoy creating line drawings. I can channel aliens. I’m great at customer service. I am physically strong, at least for heavy lifting.

I love to dance and I dance pretty well. I can even do some pole, salsa, basic swing dancing, with a history of ballet training. I enjoy clubbing. I go out, I party, I know how to drink (kind of). I roll a great blunt or cone, although I don’t do that anymore. I also know how to successfully avoid all substances, and that meditation played a role. I know how to read quickly. I know how to edit other people’s writing. I know how to write good prompts for precise AI responses.

I know how to quit nicotine cold turkey. I know how to re-frame a mental concept. I don’t know how to fall out of love. I don’t know how to let myself mourn a lost relationship, at least not completely. I don’t yet know how to move well, or to find a good place to live, nor, paradoxically, how to sustainably make money. I don’t know how to be myself, but also sometimes I do. I finally know how to spend time happily alone (that’s pretty new).

I know how to take my medications every day. I know how to meditate every day. I know how to celebrate meditating every day. I know how to forgive my body for hurting every day. I know how to forgive my mind for noticing that my body is hurting every day. I know how to work well with my body. I know how to love, engage, and appreciate my brilliant body, every day, alongside the hurting.

I know how to let go of my diagnoses and live within the moment instead. I know how to say goodbye (but not to people that I’ll see again). I don’t know how to hang up the phone. I know how to heal vocal nodules; I also know how to successfully avoid needing to use this skill ever again. I know how to write a speech. I know how to play poker (just kidding, I don’t remember). I know how to write a fortune. I don’t know how to tell a lie. I do know how to act quite well, but I don’t do it often. I know how to be wise, sometimes and depending on the context. I know how to look pretty. I know how (to pretend to?) be sexy. I know how to feel visually and energetically beautiful. I know how to healthfully tend to my energy.

I am learning how to know myself. I am learning how to survive within the barriers and cold boundaries of capitalism. I am learning how to escape the sources of my suffering. I am learning how to seek out a better reality, for my body, my mind, and my soul. I know how to pray. I known how to channel. I know how to listen. I am learning how to be silent. I know how to speak up. I know how to align with divinity. I know how to love myself. I know how to love myself. I know all the reasons why I will never ever stop loving myself. I know how to learn how to always love myself, more and more. I know how to figure out how to heal myself. I know how to love myself.