Plants Are Like People

Plants are like people.  First, they will be organized, usually rooted, and counted somehow.  They must be fed, watered properly, and tested to measure their growth.  Plants are kept on large scales to insure that most survive, though they are all still prone to eradication.  Before they were organized by someone in charge, plants would roam free and wild in the hills and crevices of the world, evolving, changing with those around them, no one species dormant with its own unchanging kind, but alive, learning, adapting to all that surrounds it. Now plants live by masters.  They are raised in boxes and treated with pesticide.  They were once a blessing to earth but have become a controlled substance.  Plants are like people.

Creating Truth

Truth is created in many ways
Such as a lie, a variation of what is
An imagined possibility one creates
So in some reality, each lie is a truth
And this world has progressed from creations,
Things that were once lies
Possibilities that became.

We all speak to be heard
And one thing inside each of us listens
For one thing.
One connection.  Relation.  Mutual feeling.
We all long to be together,
And here we are, apart
Stuck in a body, stuck in a mind
So aware of what we choose to see
Our senses react to what we're instinctively inclined to.
We know there is a connection
Foolishly we try to prove it, title it,
And as we conform to politics, religions,
Mass followings of pyramid schemes,
We forget this connection
Or misinterpret it
All of us have a power.
All of us use it differently
And all of us judge each other because of it;
Hate brings the masses to a place I do not expect to be pleasant or peaceful
Hate for yourself, your neighbor, and the God who treated you so poorly
But if we remember, fellow people,
All of us contains this hatred, this love, this power.
How we choose to focus it, as a mass of energy congruently reacting,
Is the lie I tell today that will be truth tomorrow.

An Excerpt from "FUCK U EUGEN" from the Journal of Jessica Weiss, from the weekend of Aug 9th, 2013

After waiting all weekend to get you alone I couldn't say those three words. Not if there was never anything in return. Love is what we make it and I'm over the realm of fabrication. Our pathways are not the same because our roads may overlap, we must both choose the same direction, and I simply cannot follow you if you don't bring me along. Idealizing what we could be and where we could take each other has only left me heartbroken once again for what seems like a foolish dream of unconditional emotional surrender.

 

I will post more personal and provocative entries when there are enough comments, traffic, and requests to merit sharing the deeper confines of my journal.  There will be no supply without demand ;)

7.16 Why would I leave such a place

Several comfortable weeks of a comfortable home, work environment, and local-ish sexual satisfaction has this town feeling somehow new.  Again.

Why would I leave such a place?

Well, I believe, because of that question.  There must be something more...my dreams are whispering it to me.