loose yourself

Loose Yourself, Hafiz

Leave the familiar for a while.

Let your senses and bodies stretch out

Like a welcomed season
Onto the meadows and shores and hills.

Open up to the Roof.
Make a new water-mark on your excitement
And love.

Like a blooming night flower,
Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness
And giving
Upon our intimate assembly.

Change rooms in your mind for a day.

All the hemispheres in existence
Lie beside an equator
In your heart.

Greet Yourself
In your thousand other forms
As you mount the hidden tide and travel
Back home.

All the hemispheres in heaven
Are sitting around a fire
Chatting

While stitching themselves together
Into the Great Circle inside of
You.

Hafiz

first meet

first meet

I can hear my heart beating.
I can hear myself laughing at his jokes.
I can smell the curly fries from Jack in the Box as we walk to my house
I can feel our hands shaking, as if we were very nervous.
Oh, wait… we are.
It’s the first time he’s coming over for dinner with my family.
I open the gate to my house, slowly and lead him in.
As I slam the gate, leaves fall down from the tree as if like snow; but sadly, it doesn’t snow in LA.
We stop and turn to each other when we arrive at the door.
I can hear my breathing.
I can feel him shaking.
I look into his eyes and say to him, “Ready?”
From where we’re standing I can hear them laughing from the other side of the door.
I squeeze his hand and he squeezes mine.
I pen the door, as I walk in first.
I smell the sweet apples that are in the basket beside the entrance.
And it started with a “hello.”

__
First Meet by Angela Hernandez from Before There Were Bars, POPS The Club

all we did was play

 

We’ve been conditioned to move from a place of what loves us and almost every decision we make now is based on what other people think about us.

If you are under the illusion that these things outside of you are what complete you, you will always be a victim because everything has to change to make you happy.

When you were a kid you were just effortlessly creating and living in the moment, and that same effortless creativity is available to you right now. You are what you love, not what loves you.

__

Kyle Cease

http://www.evolvingoutloud.com

get swept under

I don’t want to be your friend
I just want to be your lover
No matter how it ends
No matter how it starts

Forget about your house of cards
And I’ll do mine
Forget about your house of cards
And I’ll do mine

Fall off the table
Get swept under
Denial, denial

The infrastructure will collapse
Voltage spikes
Throw your keys in the bowl
Kiss your husband goodnight

Forget about your house of cards
And I’ll do mine
Forget about your house of cards
And I’ll do mine

Fall off the table
And get swept under

Denial, denial
Denial, denial
Your ears should be burning
Denial, denial
Your ears should be burning

__
Radiohead, House of Cards
#dancebreak

farts + trader joes

FADE IN: a car, 2 friends peeling mandarins:

“I mean, now what? We just go back to farts and Trader Joes?”
She looks at me expecting an answer.
Farts and Trader Joes…yeah, that seems about right. You spend enough time with someone, sure, that’s what happens.
I nod.
She scoffs and looks away.
“It’s not fair,” she says quietly.
She’s so pretty when she’s mad/frustrated/sad/resentful/vulnerable.
When she’s human.
“Well, it can be,” I finally say. “If you changed your family, culture, social mindset, your marriage. Become someone else, reinvent yourself!, and then educate everyone around you on the new You.”
She looks at me, “Stop it.”
“I mean it.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she says, slipping back into her lawyer voice.
“Then forget her.”
She swallows thick. It’s audible.
“I can’t…”
A beat. 
“How do you feel about farts and Trader Joe’s with her?”
“That’s different.”
“Nope, no it’s not. Same shit different smell.”
A slow smile curls across her lips, “She’s different, her farts smell like roses.”
I burst into laughter — bahahahaahaha.

white knuckles

alan watts“Advice? I don’t have advice. Stop aspiring and start writing. If you’re writing, you’re a writer. Write like you’re a goddamn death row inmate and the governor is out of the country and there’s no chance for a pardon. Write like you’re clinging to the edge of a cliff, white knuckles, on your last breath, and you’ve got just one last thing to say, like you’re a bird flying over us and you can see everything, and please, for God’s sake, tell us something that will save us from ourselves. Take a deep breath and tell us your deepest, darkest secret, so we can wipe our brow and know that we’re not alone. Write like you have a message from the king. Or don’t. Who knows, maybe you’re one of the lucky ones who doesn’t have to.”

– Alan Watts, philosopher, author, famous for his research on comparative religion