hello hi namaste! so,i have 99 followers,from what wordpress tells me.this may not mean much in a competitive society such as ours but i feel truly honored. even if 1/100th (approximately) of my followers/readers(you who are reading this)ends up reading even a sentence from a post, i am happy.
since i am keeping a journal,writing on this blog has been completely off of my mind but i do plan on posting once a week at least.there is so much to be spoken about, so many people, so many ideas, so many things.
so while i have wasted my time being wasted and wasting my (tormented) self on people thereby wasting my wasted little life itself, my depersonalization has come back to haunt me and from what it seems it is here to stay for the little eternity of my little life.
as part of the explanation of a certain concept referred to as “Rasaesthetics” in sociology class at college, the beautiful teacher who explained to us this wonderful and terribly complex concept, used the term “dispassionate passion”, an ultimate form of extremely detached empathy, to speak simply, to describe the ultimate quality of the experience of truly grasping Rasa (which happens to be the essence,the liquid in the vessel,not the vessel itself,if the vessel is seen as a material object/experience/description) in its universal capacity. i am still completely obsessed with the term she used, dispassionate passion. ambivalence has always been the one word that is unchanging in the dictionary i refer to when i try to understand my experience of emotions, so while dispassionate passion might as well technically, linguistically, conceptually be a paradox, in my dictionary this is a term that makes complete sense.i feel as though i can feel everything, but not truly feel it. i think everyone gets to experience this, but this is not what is referred to as “feeling numb”. i know what feeling a plethora of emotions feels like.i know how emotions have the power to shape everything i do. i know empathy,hey,i live empathy. but i don’t truly get touched by any emotions and feelings anymore, it is almost as if i exist on an alternate plane but i don’t because what happens in this plane does affect me (but it really doesn’t,i don’t feel it does?).
or maybe i have truly grown up,and drugs sex and rock n roll (interests of a seemingly previous life of my teen age years) has just translated into peace love and transcendence for me,thus leaving me unaffected by the shenanigans of the foolish material beings i am surrounded by.
i will end by writing something for someone to whom my sexual attraction(this is as “worldly” as it gets) had been great and with whom there was even greater sexual chemistry,perhaps because we both are/were young pseudo-wild foolish kids who loved “having fun” (all of that silly stuff children refer to when they want to describe themselves with these days).and none of that is there anymore,none of the magical stuff, amusement, attraction, something. i’m even bored thinking about him,yawn! S.S ,rich spoilt skinny little boy slut with such sexiness and so many issues with female authority/mommy issues only heightened, challenged,worsened by his narcissistic tendencies. i have always loved your body but your thoughts never amused me,and now even your perfect skinny frame does not excite me anymore,the most i can do for you and you for me is to admire what used to be.
every (not so) slight and (not so) subtle touch of yours is as mundane as smoking a cigarette now,that had the capacity to bring me pleasure even upon the touch of my lips, and as the smoke filled my (damaged) lungs and slowly through my veins crept up to flow through me to complete me (and the chemical content of my body), but not anymore. i want to make love (with someone who know what it truly means) like it is the only thing that can save me from the dreary insensible world,not fuck your brains out (however fun that may have been),you beautiful creature.