It's All Going To Be Okay

Love is making a choice every single day, to either love or not love. That’s it. It’s that simple. Either to continue the process or not. We fall in and out of love. Even in relationships, especially in relationships. This doesn’t mean we don’t love the person. It means we are left with a choice. There is a difference between feeling love for someone (caring about a person) and loving someone (choosing to love that person). We may have love for someone forever, but that doesn’t mean we choose to love that person forever. The choice to love is not a feeling; it is an action. That is why it is so difficult. It requires us to do something, and I’m not just talking about buying flowers. It might mean putting our wants aside. Also, like chemistry, the ability to love is not a constant: It is a variable. It fluctuates, depending on where we’re at in our life and what we’re struggling with. Sometimes it is easy to love. Sometimes it is extremely difficult. But at the  end of t...

Infatuation. Such a funny phase Walking around in a wistful haze. A saturation of a chemical maze. Gravitation. Sets us ablaze. Sometimes I'm a poet. But I know it.

The entire reason I need this blog is to calm my mind. It's not unlike yours. Or anyone else's. Constantly churning and sputtering about. Mostly useless information and drivel. It is my most sworn enemy and yet my only true companion; my source of misery and yet the only true antidote to my suffering. Let's be real. I don't mean suffering in that over-dramatic and melancholic way; it's more the day-to-day annoyances and bullshit of mistaken perceptions that slowly erode your peace. Maybe you feel the same way, maybe you don't even realize it's happening. Some people would term it as stress, worry, or anxiety. Turned backwards and opaque maybe you could name it depression. As an aside - I am somewhat vexed by the people who say they never experience any issues of the Mind or Self. I think they are lying to themselves. Or haven't traveled far enough beyond the surface layer of Who they are. Or maybe they just handle it supremely well. Fuckers. I wasn...