It's just that you seem so familiar and yet I know we've never met

Recognising my own deficiencies...

I've rolled through life, rarely putting my head on the chopping block, or above the parapet.

I've expected to fail so I didn't even try to succeed.

Unless or until things get desperate.

And then I try.

And sometimes I surprise myself.

When I relax and just let go and be.

I fuck up, or something comes along and kicks me in the nuts.

In the past whenever I felt like things were going great, that's when it would turn.

Recently, I accidentally, through my own enthusiasm, broke something.

It's costing money to fix, and it feels like I've done it again.

Clumsily broken something, without thinking.

And then people keep telling me not to.

Think at all, or only think, get out of your head.

But that's where I've been my whole life.

Trapped up there, my heart frozen.

Then I worked on my heart.

I breathed in love.

It melted my heart.

My confidence grew.

It took away my fear at last.

I tried new things, and old things.

I saw some amazing things too and felt some.

Left behind were memories, patterns, habits, still.

I've gone back there, spotted them deep within, working on them.

Don't keep mulling over things I said, or they said, or that I could say.

I jump to conclusions, I have instincts again, it's all a mess, a maze, a labyrinth.

My heart says that we are all one, that there are other dimensions, that this is a test.

So following advice I will be working to unite my centers, head, heart, my gut just makes farts.

When good things happen I don't feel like I deserve them, I want all the badness gotten rid.

If there is a core, a divine spark, it's turned off, I've gone downhill, backtracking.

I always felt connected to everyone, when things were going good for me they were for the world.

When they were going good for the world, they were for me, trends, patterns, little hints.

It's a mess, we're a mess, what is true?  What is lies?  Is it all true, is it all lies?

I can only keep writing what comes along, my muse was dead, reborn.

My teacher said, you have so many ideas if only you could concentrate on one...

If you self edited, if you could try to get one fleshed out instead of all of them.

I'm not even sure if that's what they said, it was over twenty years ago.

I'm not sure of anything that happened before today to be honest.

This life became a dream, then a nightmare, was always so.

If I believe in bad people, if I believe in good ones.

Then all I have to do is focus on the good.

Ignore and reject the bad for the good.

I had to see the bad again to see what I don't want.

I had to see the truth within me, be honest.

I have to strive even harder then.

I miss my dream world.

Waking life is hard.

Love is real.

Life is?

Love
Jon
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