State: altered.

I come to sit down with certain spasms in my back, which I can’t tell for sure if they are muscles or kidney which is in pain. I feel myself and I feel inflammation. My gums seem inflamed too. I must be in the low polarity because of the stress manifested in my skin. So I must not be running at a sustainable pace.

It is true that I push my body to stupid limits because I am constantly wanting to “progress”, and this progress is the metrics of your lifts, so I broke my deadlift record and I am paying that price. I have given myself some days of rest and will probably skip the gym for tomorrow, or take things very lightly. The stress phenomena is clearly self made, because I have no boss and no responsibility except to myself, but unfortunately “myself” seems to be an ideal I try very hard to grasp, but I am inevitably attracted to the banal, the pity, the desires, and I can’t let myself shine through these stupid aspirations.

I have told myself all possible stories in all possible ways, and I have explored them vehemently, with all the passion I could muster at the time, which was at times equally dramatic in its gloom as it was in its glory, those times were lived intensely and are remembered as great lessons of The Way. Only God will know what I’ve been through, and through his permission will I find the inspiration to share my spiritual findings.

It is a very strange situation in which I find myself. I feel like the Quijote, I came back home wounded. I woke up again. I am supposed to be doing something important. What is that? It does not matter, any conclusion that I reach in this state will be forgotten. This inspiration belongs to sober-land, so that it can be acted upon.

Is this true? Can’t we just forget about sober-plans and imagine what could be accomplished over complete control of one’s means for… Too many times I have fallen into this trap, altered inspiration belongs to a different realm, in which a pointer of one’s own capacity to delve into the confines of the self to which the sober self does not have access.

It is a place that is found, but is not opened. It is the closet of the 10,000 things, and if you begin ordering it you will never end. Awakening is knowing that your closet is in disorder and being happy with it. Sometimes the labor of re-ordering it is progressive, and we wish to meet awakening at the middle point.

Let us at least quit smoking weed, because this was my last joint, and continue this level of inspiration, but in the unaltered state. I truly think that if I read myself in this state, tomorrow I will be able to pick up the stream of thought of this process, but only if my awareness at this time is to tell myself: reading this will lead to a treasure box that you did not want to open in this state.

Tomorrow morning I will come to continue writing here.

Today see I was led to something that looked like a treasure chest, but was not exactly that. It is interesting, none-the-less. It is true that I am not happy with my closet, despite it being pretty tidy, at least compared to what I’ve seen out there.

Right now I just feel like beginning work. The only way true progress is done is through work, be it inner or outer work. Let us admire sobriety and continue walking this path.