Mosh pits Annotated bare chest Stage diving sky diver Spray the crowd with cold water Now it’s mosh pits and wet tits I think I need a cold shower Cool waters African girl speaks in English accent Likes to fuck boys in bands Likes to watch Westerns And ride me without the hands Show me her passport She’s on her own tour But you’re beautiful to me Wave em high girl to the sky But you’re beautiful to me Live in the clouds Wave em high girl, to the sky But you’re beautiful to me Life in the clouds Keep em high ya’ll Beautiful stars In the sky… Frank Ocean
i am fairly certain that the unknowing i am experiencing is very much what my favorite buddhist authors describe. it is the space between leaving the ground after deciding to dive and before i hit the water. there is a tentative quality and a sense of fear and not knowing. it is completely disconnected and yet it is described as the true way to adventure.
i can’t go back-and really wouldn’t even if. where i was had been toxic for some time and i was too sheepish to admit. but i was slowly disengaging from my work and my days and watching in slow motion as a deadly collision came into view.
so i find myself here- on the verge of i know not what. i am trusting my life and second guessing that trust. and trusting again and re second guessing. it’s a bit kooky. but it’s my process.
i have made a choice and taken a direction. it is not the beginning, nor is it even close to the end of the journey. i can’t say just where i am going, nor can i precisely relay where i have just been. that will take some time.
but i have jumped. and i am flying. i notice fear. i feel uninformed. i feel restless. i do not know. but i am flying anyway.
and i am more than grateful for this experience. this is all borrowed time. i never planned it. yet it’s mine. for now.
i have dived right in. they say the water is fine. i guess i’ll let you know.