Soliloquy of a Searcher

I’m not supposed to have thoughts—especially negative ones. Where’s the gaps of nothingness between my thoughts? So tightly packed together like a Lego® jigsaw. Or maybe I’m just not aware enough? I yelled. That’s a memory. No, it’s a thought. But it’s a memory. Is it okay to have a memory? But if it’s a thought…I’m not supposed to have thoughts. I shouldn’t have yelled at her. But I did. She yelled back. And I yelled louder and redder. I’m not supposed to be angry. Is anger a thought or emotion? But emotion is a thought, right? But I was angry. I tried to follow my breath just like I do when I’m sitting in meditation and everything is so calm and glorious. Angry thoughts were too crowded. I shouldn’t have slapped her. But I did. She took the parking spot I had been waiting for. What the @#!!! When I yelled at her, she popped an umbrella open in my rainsoaked face and yelled back. She proceeded to the store. Then I yelled and SLAP. Instantly I said I’m sorry. She slapped back and knocked all the crazy-glued thoughts outta me. For a split second of a split second of a split second of a split second of a split second there was nothing. NOTHING. It was a big as day in that split of a split. I wanna BE that nothing-blissful-spaciousness. But now am thought-crammed. I’m not supposed to have thoughts—especially negative ones…

Hopes

A Hail Mary is like a mantra is like a deck of Tarot cards is like creative visualization is like numerology is like past life regression is like astrology is like chakra balancing is like crystal readings is like channeling and other pursuits spawned by hope. Hope comes with its own song and dance, of course. Hopes are like snowflakes—no two hopeflakes are alike. Yes, hope is a happy hologram! And yet, there’s no place like hope. But I digress…

Ah, hope, that shiny bar of soap that lathers away anxieties, fears and anger and all sorts of miscellaneous shifting splinters of the mind. In the end it’s all smoke and mirrors. And nothing really changes after whichever ritual is performed, even though a warm syrupy blanket embalms what you think is “you.”

But hey, nothing wrong with a Hail Mary or a mantra. If it makes life an absolute bouquet of fragrant sexy roses…it just happens. But roses soon fade and will have to be replaced again, and again…

Greetings!

Dear Reader,

Unseen forces brought you to this page.

Really, it was your clicking got you here… well, even that’s not truly true. Your greedy seeking brought you here. Don’t take it personal because there’s no “you” and nothing can belong to you, not even your greedy seeking. Ain’t that hilarious? But if you wanna feel “real”- take offense, feel the fullness of repugnancy at the cellular levels and let it radiate through your body so that your ego inflates like a big fat red party balloon—BE HERE NOW. POP!!!

You want something to change. There’s gotta be something more than this. You sick and tired of being with your sick and tired self or your sick and tired whatever. But you look at me like I’m mad—no no no and no! This can’t be it—there’s gotta be more. Where’s the rose petals and tranquil glittery clouds? Where’s the chorus of angelic beings singing in neon voices? Where’s the soft and fluffy stillness, the infinite spaciousness, the new job, lottery jackpot???

Have a double martini and you just might start hearing those neon voices and feeling way more space than usual. You might even start feeling lucky!

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