It's raining outside.  I want to stay here, but I can't.  The world isn't going to wait for me.

Looking back on my life, I keep thinking about times I made an ass of myself.  I compare it to who I am today (or at the time of recollection) and say to myself, "I was so young and stupid", or something like that.  But then later on, I find myself saying the same thing about something more recent.

I have a lot of regrets.  I've hurt a lot of people and I can't yet summon up the motivation to forgive myself for that.  The conscience can really be a bitch sometimes.

Talking about it doesn't help.  The patterns only suggest this will happen again and again.  Otherwise I wouldn't keep comparing who I am now to who I used to be.  And that led me to the conclusion that although we might change our look, lifestyle, or circle of friends, the true self, who we are, who I am, never really goes away.

Enough exposure to fire will burn you.

And so I've come to believe that's who I really am.  We'll never really change.  Society and friendships are just one great charade after another.  If there is someone out there who can accept you for who you really are, that's all it takes to be happy.  If not, then I guess you're going to be pretty sad and lonely for a while.

True love, true happiness, true friendship, whatever.

There isn't much going on in the world that's welcome news.  An important factor in an overdramatic lifestyle is the tendency to fight self-reliance.  The birds are always so busy, and I wonder if they ever sleep.  I look at myself, and I wonder if I sleep too much.  Like sometimes, the world might just be passing me by.

They say "life is a journey, not a destination".  Sometimes I wonder where I am in my own journey.  Is this the first few chapters?  Or am I near the end of my story?  How should I spend my time on this earth?  What am I going to leave behind?

Life is a self-fulfilling prophecy.  Life strives to maintain life, and create more life.  Emptiness and desolation are the hallmark of people who are already dead.  Life is forward.  I look around and see people dying.  Maybe it's time for us to live.

Encouragement abounds all about us.  Career advice, support groups, motivational studies, trends of the week.  We're always encouraged to do, to go, but too often in the name of something we can't fully appreciate.  It isn't relevant to us.  So where do we go from here?  Where is the advice on how to be happy?  That might be something you'll have to figure out on your own.  Look inside yourself; you'll find it.

It's a beautiful day today.  It's cold, but sunshiny and blue.

It, even in anxious and depressing times, lifts my awareness and warms my soul.  The wind is blowing softly today, like a gentle lover's touch on a carefree Saturday morning.

And as much as I enjoy the day, as much as I can relax, deep in the back of my mind, there are still memories.  There are still dark memories that haunt me and leave me restless on this lively, tranquil day.

I find myself wondering what it takes to be truly happy in the face of baggage and dramatic setbacks, and no answers, implicit or otherwise are offered my way.

Perhaps until the day I die, I won't be purely content because imperfections will always exist.  

And to magnify those imperfections.. that's just the nature of human beings, I guess.

There are cookies and muffins for sale nearby.  I feel myself becoming content already.

I am floating, hovering, just existing in empty space, as vast as my mind allows it to be.  All horizons, vertical, horizontal and deep resemble the sky, an oily, nebulous sky speaking to me with all its fury but for the life of me, I just can't understand what it says.  Amongst me are a seemingly infinite number of people, like droplets in a cloud or stars in space.  And they too, are floating about, living out their lives.

I noticed something though.  Whenever I was close to another person, I felt warmer and better about myself.  When I was distant, I became depressed, and this is how I felt, most of the time.  Sometimes, I would have enough energy to swim, or perhaps will myself to where other people were.  But like similar poles of magnets, I was never able to get as close as I had hoped.

In the distance, I saw a swarm of hundreds, perhaps thousands of people forming a close, personal connection.  The energy I picked up suggested they knew one another well, like a close, secluded, interpersonal community, almost like a family.  Other people, scattered like me, seemed drawn into this network, almost like gravity.  But try as I might, I was repelled, pushed away. 

Frustrated, I wondered what was so wrong with me that I couldn't become a part of this warm, friendly, massive network.  While contemplating this, the gravity of the network caused seemingly exponential growth, and the larger it got, the farther away from it I became.  So many people became a part of the larger consciousness that even those who were close to me before had gone, and the cold from this isolation was almost overwhelming.

Curled into a ball, head tucked down to my knees, struggling to retain warmth, I saw in the far distance what resembled another person like me, in isolation.  Braving the temperatures and elements, I willed myself in that direction, hoping to make a connection with someone, anyone. 

And finally upon being close enough to see who the person was, I started to feel warmer... and happier again.  But the person, a young woman, she would just lie there, motionless... almost as if...

as if she were already dead.

"Hello?  Can you hear me?!" I frantically shouted, devastated by the idea that the only person who I didn't drive away was a dead person.  I made my way over to her and she continued to lay there lifeless, helpless.  I reached out to touch her, that perhaps she was numb from the cold and her own isolation, but she was warm.  She was alive and well, but seemingly unconscious.  With the indefinite isolation idea still fresh in my mind, I embraced her warmth, hoping I might never let go or feel the pain of the cold ever again.  Her eyes opened slightly, and I heard a weak whisper.

"Hey... you woke me up."

Suddenly and unexpectedly my body felt a massive frontal blow, a repellant reaction, hurling me away, away from everything. For what seemed like several minutes, I was flying out so quickly it was difficult to breathe.  Coming to, I couldn't see anyone, anywhere, anymore. 

But at this point, the messages of the sky were starting to get to me.  I finally had a grasp on the truth of the matter, not so much "heard" as "understood". 

People are not what necessarily what it takes to be content with oneself.  The truth behind loneliness and fulfillment is self-reliance, and comfortability in one's own mind.  I had been relying on others to make myself happy, scared to death of being alone.But I am not alone.  I am never alone.  My fear started to subside, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I started to feel a tingling warmth inside me.  I relaxed, eyes closed, and floating in limbo. 

The people out of my reach, the colors of the horizon, even the energy of the void kept me company.  Fading into oblivion, I sighed and whispered to myself, "Sweet dreams".

So, here I am again. I'm wondering what things are like on the outside, partly because I'm curious, but mainly because I care. The days just aren't long enough to do everything I really want to do, which is most things.

Out of sight but well within earshot, I hear a child crying and fussing the way children tend to. And I feel a little bit better, that much closer to finding what can't be found, because I know what I don't want to do.

I not too interested in sleep, but I love my dreams. I'm don't care for being wet, but I wouldn't mind going swimming. I don't really care to get your number, but I'd like to call, just to say hello.

I wonder sometimes if the voices are just telepathy with the contemplative. Matter is just energy in a concentrated, imprisoned form. You're never really free until superficiality has disappeared. Go ahead; try it. :)

Is there a connection between the emotions of red and the color of blood? Red is passionate, strong.... lusty. But red is also violent, energetic, furious, and delusional. Blood pertains to all of these. It seems, deep down, red is human in every sense, fleshy, chaotic, emotional...

Overemotionality is addictive. I'm grateful it's not my nature.

I'd like to think I'm deep into the rabbit hole already, but the perimeter just gets wider, and I just keep falling. And I feel every emotion, at least once. Is there a connection? I keep getting little thoughts, little ideas, like pieces of a puzzle, interesting and respectable in their own way. Are these pieces part of the same puzzle? I don't think I can climb out.

All the ships have sailed. Continued on "I had a dream last night", part 1.

I've always liked the winter season.

Driving home I rolled down the window for a bit, and felt my face go numb in a matter of seconds.

I noticed the trees and I thought to myself about how it's difficult to tell whether they are dead or asleep.

Kind of like us, sometimes.

And the days end so quickly, it's difficult to really savor the warmth of sunshine beams.

All in all, winter is an unpleasant experience, I'll admit that.

But... I never feel more alive than when I'm cold.  Maybe suffering is what it takes to appreciate.

With that realization, I packed a snowball and threw it at a parked car.  The alarm went off.

I had a dream last night.

On a small raft I floated on the sea, no land in sight. Looking over the side, I saw what resembled earthworms. They each had their own distinctive color, moving about like paints that refuse to mix.

I lowered my hand into the sea, hoping to scoop some, but I couldn't get a grip on many. I managed to get control of a blue one. I tasted it, but it had no flavor. At first, I was sad. I did start to smile a bit though. I'm lost at sea, but that's okay.

The Psych Room is a later goal of mine, but I want to explain it.  Perhaps it'll inspire someone else, and it'll help me organize this idea.

I believe energy in its weakest form is light.  A heavier variation is sound.  Colors, sounds, vibrations, and the frequencies of these gave me the idea for the Psych Room.


In a simple, square, empty room, I want to start painting... all the walls and ceiling a completely abstract yet psychedelic theme with all the colors of the rainbow, and then some.  Different colors will display different patterns.  Red shapes and images will be jagged and aggressive, since red is a passionate color.  Blues will be bulky and bubbly, much like the silhouette in the lava of a lava lamp.  To me, blue represents a sedentary, contemplative state of mind.  Yellows will be thin, swirly and plentiful, since yellow represents silly bliss to me.  Secondary and tertiary colors will have patterns corresponding to the primary colors they're between.

After the walls and ceiling are painted and dried, I will start with the floor.  From the entrance to the center of the room will be a pathway made of black tile.   The center of the room will be a medium-sized circle of black tile.  The rest of the floor will be reflective, likely mirror tile. 

In the center of the room is a special lamp.  Imagine a small, spherical bowl of glass with a large bubble created in the bottom, allowing room for a powerful lamp to fit inside.  This lamp will be similar to the lights in fiber-optic lamps, where the colors change fairly frequently.  If possible, I want to be able to change the colors on my own, but we'll see. 

When swimming underwater, one can see how the waves on the surface of the water bend the light to create interesting patterns on the floor.  I want the bowl to be filled with the purest water I can find, causing the ripples to bend the light.  The purity of the water is very important, but I can't really explain it offhand.  Read the book, "The Hidden Messages In Water" for more information.  Blue light only reflects purely off of blue or white surfaces, so when the light in the lamp is blue, only the blue paint will appear.  The same goes for other colors and paints.

Different colors and chakras have sounds that coincide with them.  Using music for toning chakras, I want to set up a discreet sound system that will create the appropriate sounds for whatever chakra I am meditating with at the time.


Perhaps someday, after enough experience I will attempt using a psychedelic with this, but at first, I just want to set up a snow-white bean bag chair, put in a cd and enjoy the show.

I don't know how long I've been here.  It wasn't long after nothingness I ended up here, in this chilly, dimly lit room.  I sat up on this bed, legs crossed, and silent.  Across the room, there was a barely-visible door, closed.  Underneath it shone a faint light, but I was somehow aware of more light than what I had seen, beyond the door.

I spent a long time talking to myself, inside my mind.  It's not very exciting at all in there but it was safe... and predictable.  In my own little world, I had control.  Talking to myself, I could always tell myself what I wanted to hear, and that was comfortable to me.  But every now and then, I would notice the dim light peeking through the crack underneath the door, and I'd get scared.  To ignore it, I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and daydreamt.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, in the distance, I heard a faint but audible bubbling and splashing sound.  Daydreaming (or perhaps hallucinating) I saw a person, an older woman with long, graying hair that flowed gently down her back.  She was standing in the woods, barefoot, near a shallow and beautifully clear stream.  She was wearing a plain sundress.  With a relaxed expression and a smile, she stepped out into the stream.  She took a sharp breath as she felt the shock of cold water running between her toes.  The rocks on the bottom were smooth and round, giving slightly when she stepped on them.  Farther toward the middle of the stream, the water rose to just above her ankles.  She could see a small school of fish swimming past her feet.  One of them touched the side of her foot when it passed by, and it tickled a little bit.  She cupped her hand and lowered it down to the water.  Tasting a bit of the water, she smiled and looked upward, towards the trees.  The water was minty.

Just outside my room, I became distracted.  I heard a young child a play.  In that silly singsong voice, I heard him shout, "Nana-nana boo-boo, you can't get me".  Nearby, there was a little girl, his first love and childhood crush, who was chasing him.  He liked her... and she liked him.  But they would never admit it.  The anticipation was good enough.  But.. close by, there were the same two people, holding hands on a swinging bench.  Their gaze would be toward the sunset, then to one another for a second, then quickly and shyly back  to the sunset.  And with that, my eyes started to open a bit.  I looked again towards the light peering from beyond the door and for the first time, I realized I really was by myself.  I started to feel lonely.  But clinging to old habits, I closed my eyes and bowed my head again, and dreamt.

A massive rainbow of scents instantly swirled around me.  With each new breath, a new one seemed to enter my lungs, as though they were just waiting in line.  I got a whiff of birthday cake and flashed back to the birthday I never really enjoyed.  I was sitting where I am now.  Then, a waft of cinnamon bun hit me, fresh and moist, yet crispy around the edges.  My mouth started to water.  The scent of a basket of citrus fruits sent refreshing chills up my spine.  And chocolate, a deep dark chocolate seemingly began to melt in my mouth.  My head lay back and eyes were closed, savoring the flavor.  But suddenly, all the scents and flavors disappeared and I was left by myself once again.

And I realized, my mind isn't the real world.  Surely the world has more to offer me than I to myself.  And with that, I knew what to do.

There was a warm draft coming through the crack under the door and the door opened, slightly.  I was uncertain if I remembered what the floor felt like.  Turning toward the door, I finally stood up, and walked slowly to the door.  My body ached from having sat still for so long.  I wondered what the world will be like.

"Will this room end up better than reality?"

"Does love exist or is it too, an extension of loneliness and fear?"

"Can I really have a second chance?"

I placed my hand on the door handle.  And with a deep breath, I pulled.  All the fears, all the worries, all the insecurities gave way to the present moment, to let everything begin.

It's a clear, beautiful, autumn night sky with a full moon beaming down proudly.  I was sitting atop a little shack on a mountainside with the full moon easily in view.  I relaxed, lying back on the cold, tin roof and breathing a sigh of contentment.  Everything was serene, calm, and still.

But the moon's light started to bother me.  It wasn't a weak light...no, this light could illuminate everything in sight.  Even the trees over the horizon were bright enough to see.  It wasn't the brightness that bothered me.  I just started to notice things around me I wasn't comfortable seeing.  I started to feel insecure about my looks, my accomplishments, my relationships, and I got the urge to hide.

Jumping off of the tin roof, I made my way to the other side of the mountain.  The hike was on a decline, so I made little physical effort.  I made my way into the forestry, and gradually the moon became blocked from my view.  I became relieved once again.

The wood was unusually silent today.  I could still see a bit, but not enough to appreciate the beauty of existence.  The silence forced me inside of my mind, where petty complaints and insecure thoughts started to grate at me.  Breathing a sigh, I continued walking.

The foliage began to thin out, and I approached the edge of a steep cliff.  I was once again within reach of the moon's light and saw it, as far as I could see.  Looking down, I saw scenes from my life atop the canopies, as if the leaves themselves were scattered pixels.  All the memories of humiliation and despair flashed about in my mind.  I covered my face with my hands for a second, and took a deep breath.

I'm not sure why, but I started chuckling to myself.  For a second, the quote "life is funny, but not 'ha-ha' funny" popped out at me. 

With eyes closed and a smile on my face, I spread my arms and dove over the edge.  The sharp, cold bits of wind tickled me as I descended.  Suddenly, I lost the ability to explain things.  I felt like the world was a complete mystery, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, I felt happy.  Totally and completely happy.

I lost my awareness of time.  Hours could be seconds, and minutes could be decades.  But at that particular moment, however long it might've lasted, all I could feel was happiness.

I never did open my eyes, and I never did stop falling.