Static

It's been a tough day for me. And night.

I laid in bed early in the evening thinking about how it was with Fola the day prior.

I won't bother getting into details. Mainly because I don't want to relive the pain that comes from speaking of them.

I have to ...

Accept.

And...

Forgive... I suppose...

Part of me feels like I'm rambling with nothing to say. A struggle to piece words together.

Though they flow from my soul, I feel the words to be as empty as I am.

Hollow. Restless.

Resigned.

I can't ... for the life of me know what I should be doing.

Last night I laid in bed praying deeply for answers.

I... felt like I moved far in my... search to discover the truth of my spiritual beliefs.

I.. remember navigating this.. maze.. inside of me to really try and see if I accepted that there is a God and what that God would look like and behave.

What the motivation of Him or It would be.

And... I reaffirmed myself as an instrument to it. I prayed with honesty. Admitting that I didn't have a clear understanding of who or what I was praying towards.

I went over it in my mind. Defined what I thought "God" actually is and developed it from there.

Ultimately, there is the God that is omnisecent and permeates the universe. It is life itself. The planets, the stars, the dark and the light.

The life that exists across and within everything that there is.

Such a being would not be listening to me, would it.

I thought so. For something of such grand intelligence and so all-encompassing; there can be little capacity for it to reflect upon the life of a single individual and to affect a change of sort.

Or to impart a truth. Or to interact directly.

I am only one of many. Many trillions within the universe.

How can such a being know the thoughts of my head and the feelings in my heart?

How can it know what it is that I desire or lack? What could it possibly do to alleviate the pain that I feel inside? By what obligation does it have to interact with me? Does the capacity exist?

That is when my prayers began acknowledging the aspects of God. I understood that there is likely a hierarchy in place. The notion of angels and demi-Gods and demiurges came to mind.

It made sense to me that... There would be... not one singular being, but a multitude of them with their own strengths and weaknesses.

It also made sense to me... to think that at least one of them had the capability and compassion enough to interact with me.

I had to... elevate my beliefs during all of this. I had to be honest with myself.

Perhaps there are angels out there. Or a higher self.

Maybe we are all avatars being remotely controlled from afar.

And I had to accept during my prayers that there must be some kind of intelligence out there that knows my situation and is willing to offer its assistance.

So, I called upon it.

And...

I don't know. Maybe it answered in the form of an idea. But it is an idea that I struggled with today.

I wanted to know what I can do. What I must do.

It seemed that the thought of my starting an online mystery school was the answer that I received.

And yet, I spent most of today not feeling particularly excited about this idea.

I devoted a good amount of time to working on a template to see how such a website would look, and I can't say I am impressed with what I have achieved.

And... I realized that this type of endeavor requires a fair amount of faith and commitment in order for it to work.

... I also realized that I don't have much passion for the idea of teaching "magic" and esoteric concepts like I used to.

Because I honestly don't know what to believe in anymore.

Everything feels so layered and impossible to understand. There is so much contradictory information. There is so much... too much....

That it seems almost pointless to try and sort it all out.

I feel... closed off. Blank. Barely existing.

Can't get excited about my girlfriend anymore. Can't... depend on her. I don't have much confidence in her ability to raise my spirits.

But I do believe in her ability to crush them.

To... make me feel and be at my worst.

It seems that... I...

I am ensnared.

Trapped.

Bled dry.

I've been hurt enough by her.

I don't know if I can... continue to pretend, but pretend I must.

And...

It feels like I've accepted a lie.

Rather than truth.

I've been in denial of the truth for much of the time I was with her.

I... am not a better human being now than I was two years ago.

I...

Have to accept that this is the truth.

My life has not improved since meeting her.

Doesn't feel like it has, anyways.

I... find little joy in the routines of my day.

Movies don't interest me much. Books aren't gripping my attention like they used to.

My writing has suffered, and it is a challenge to put words to paper.

Except for now, I suppose, when the topic at hand is about my feelings.

But that doesn't amount to very much.

My skills as a writer...

...I've talked so long about how I wanted to write a book. To earn a living as an author.

And it doesn't seem to want to happen.

As I write this, I am aware of this... block, before me.

This wall. A barrier that keeps me from accessing the creativity that had once came so easily to me.

Optimism lays beyond this wall, also.

That kind of.. blissful ignorance of my situation.

My faith. In myself and in others and in God.

All kept behind what seems like a door that I am afraid to open.

Or that I am unable to.

I put headphones in my ears and I can't enjoy the music.

I smoke cigarettes and can't enjoy them either.

The pain comes from knowing how I once was, and what I have potential to become.

Potential that feels eroded. For various reasons.

Again I am reminded of the words of the psychic who gave me a spirit-guide reading.

There is a woman in my life whose mission is to spiritually undermine me.

As I type those words, I cannot help but feel the danger that comes with placing blame on my girlfriend. Blame that should not be attributed to anyone but myself, for I should accept responsibility for the way I am feeling. The situation I am in.

And yet, I cannot dispel the notion that she is largely responsible for holding me back.

When things get good between us, she somehow manages to sabotage it.

Her mood swings.. her level of awareness... her...

Mind changes...

And her obsession with spirituality and magic and mystery schools and shamanism.

It all weighs me down.

The pain is not that my girl is involved in those things, but rather, she is... pursuing them for selfish purposes.

She is not genuinely searching for the truth.

She is interested in money and power.

Little else.

Relationships... family...

I really don't like typing about all this.

It feels like I am casting blame.

And yet, I have to admit that I do not feel fully comfortable around that woman.

Our relationship feels like a mine field. One wrong step and something bad will happen.

I... can't communicate with her. Some of her texts are not things she tells me in person, when these are words best said face to face. Some of her texts don't make any sense, with her careless errors of spelling and grammar. I feel that she denies me a large part of who she is by not going into detail with her thoughts and emotions.

I feel that she is perpetually confused at why she does the things she do.

I don't think she understands herself and the confusion of it all is falling onto me to figure it out for her.

And... I feel like I've given her enough of my analysis.

I'm pretty tired of the drama she creates.

Yesterday I told her I was feeling deflated and beat. She did not acknowledge those words.

Instead, she spoke about herself and her fear of being alone and feeling like I've abandoned her.

A guilt trip.

It is almost always about her.

And yet, I've known all along how selfish she can be. How ignorant and lacking in self-awareness she actually is.

I've known this and yet I...

I continue to let this go on.

This madness.

The way she talked about planning her sister's birthday in five months made me realize how she doesn't do anything similar for me.

And I am not saying this because I feel entitled towards that kind of special attention.

More so that I feel as if I... am being...

Punished.

Toyed with.

Taken for granted.

I sometimes wonder what I have done to deserve all this. How I do things for her like showing up with candy that she likes, or being courteous and accommodating when she rarely extends to me the same affections and attentions that I do for her.

I often wonder what it is that I am doing wrong.

Because I am. I must be.

At least in terms of keeping her interested and willing to please.

It feels like... I am being steered towards a particular way of being.

Like, I have to... fit a certain image that I do not enjoy growing into.

... My words are failing me now.

I suppose she wants me to be something that I am having difficulty with becoming.

And sometimes that... person is not who I want to be.

When I give her my best and it is not good enough, I lose a part of myself in the process.

I feel less inclined to give.

Less connected to her and myself.

Imagine finding someone a beautiful gift. You are excited for them to receive it. And when they do, they casually toss it aside like it had no meaning to them.

Then, imagine that feeling to occur multiple times. Once a month, lets say.

That disappointment she creates in me is... not easily... overcome.

Not easily understood, even.

She...

God....

There is a lesson in all this for me, but I don't know for sure what it is.

It feels like all the pieces of the puzzle is right in front of my face but I am too fearful to accept the image that is revealed once I assemble them all together.

It feels like I've compromised myself.

Like I've agreed to a blasphemy that should never have been allowed to take root. Let alone be given water and food enough to grow into what it has now become.

There is a coldness in my hands right now. A stillness in the air that disturbs me,

I feel restless and unsure of what to do. Other than to type.

Type out everything that comes from these fingers of mine.

Blot out the pain that I am feeling by expunging myself.

Purging.

No wonder I've kept this blog up for so long. I've always needed a place to write down these thoughts. To.. try and make sense of them. To calibrate my intentions and goals and visions.

To openly despair and to cry out without anyone knowing.

My safe space.

And... there has been so much perverted by that woman. So...

So much pain and anger and remorse and fear and disappointment and promise and ...

lies.

And she goes on. Not really knowing what is wrong.

Or what she does the things that she does.

I feel like I've confused hate for love.

I feel like I've committed a sin by being with her.

And yet throughout all this, I feel like...

That there's hope somewhere.

Somewhere in this mess there is hope.

There is reason to believe.

To feel and become alive and have faith and joy and...

I don't know if that is the lie or the truth.

Whether I am telling myself all this to keep being with her.

I can't deny that there is a lesson here.

I've tried to leave her multiple times and multiple times we've gotten back together.

Stockholm Syndrome.

If that is the case, then I am truly lost.

And yet.

Doesn't love conquer all?

Can I not transcend how that woman makes me feel?

Can I not be who I am meant to be, without her?

Or with her?

Can... can we... both heal ourselves of the pain we cause to one another?

Because I am responsible for her pain as well.

Though I sometimes wonder how much of the burden is for me to bear.

And how much...

...it doesn't matter...

Again... my words are failing me.

Shouldn't love elevate us?

Free us?

Give us reason to believe in the world?

Open doors that previously have been closed?

... I ask these questions because they are what I believe when love enters into our lives.

I have loved her fully. And I still do.

Try to. Try to do it, I mean.

And it gets really hard at times.

I feel guilty for not wanting to talk to her on the phone. But I would hate myself if I had to pretend that there was nothing amiss. That all was well.

Because it's not.

And I can't expect to confess exactly what it is that I feel because... I cannot expect the sympathy I need. The advice or the actions that would help in easing this pain is not to come from her.

I cannot hope for her to do what is necessary.

Because I have been disappointed enough.

I have seen what she will and will not do.

My body feels cold. Lit up another cigarette. Must have had five already since I started writing this post.

I think of all the motivational quotes. Articles. Stuff I've learned, and none of it... little of it seems to hold me up.

When the truth has no effect on me, what point is there in seeking for it?

When I choose to believe a lie, why should I expect truth to be delivered onto me?

When she promises us to take a big trip somewhere and repeatedly fails to deliver and goes on trips of her own, why do I continue to... believe that it is possible?

Honestly, I don't. I am at that point now. I don't... think...

I don't want to even admit the words.

Now I see why I am struggling.

I am not wanting to believe in the lie.

I hate hearing my parents talk about Cuba. About how Fola and I should go.

And the way Fola... pretends like it will happen.

But, its been over a year since I wanted to go. Many opportunities to do so.

And we didn't go.

No discussion about it.

I can't plan it because I don't think she is going to try and make it happen for us.

Always excuses.

It's never the right time.

I hear...

Sighs...

A part of me just... yelled out at me to stop writing.

It would be easier to stop.

But... I feel like I have to keep going.

That wall, again.

Looms before me.

She promises me the world and delivers onto me disappointment.

It doesn't feel like she loves me.

I... have to ...

accept that?

How can I... accept that she doesn't love me... when it seems like she does?

When she pretends as strongly to me as I do to her?

I'm really tired of being hurt.

Really tired.

How our relationship has gone for this long, I do not know.

Binded together by fear, I suppose.

And I can't deny the magic that passed between us.

The magic that we sometimes still feel.

But is it all really worth going through hell for?

I've tried and failed.

So has she.

But...

I continue to...

Words again... That wall...

Delude myself.

And until I feel that I deserve better, I will always be willing to suffer.

I must firmly believe that I deserve better.

The more she makes me doubt myself, the less deserving I shall feel.

And... I'm a pretty good guy.

Just... a flawed one.

One with big dreams.

Dreams that... I don't feel fully confident in achieving.

Dreams that.. feel undeserved and unearned.

Maybe this is what she senses, also.

That I am a good guy with good intentions and dreams.

And... for whatever harm I may have done to her.. for whatever reasons unknown to me, she... is wanting to destroy them.

Maybe it was something in a past life that I've done.

A karma... a wrong that needs to be made right.

I don't know.

The solution is to surrender.

To remain true to myself.

And let the forces guide me where they may.

Yes, there is a hierarchy of beings out there that exhibit compassion and bestow wisdom and assistance to those that desperately require it.

I am one of those beings.

I am in need.

And I pray for that which may deliver me from evil.

No matter how empty of faith I can be.

I pray with a hollow heart.

For I have little else to give.

And yet...

I have everything.

I have everything.

I am everything.