State: altered

I looked at myself in the mirror and I remembered I developed a case of dermatitis on the face. This only happens when I am under stress. I was also snappy with my family when I had lunch with them, today. I find myself well-immersed in projects, not pushing myself but perhaps asking too much from myself in all realms: the body, the spirit, and the mind. But, if I were asked, I would say I am not under stress, but the body says otherwise.

To whom to listen? On Sunday I smoked a joint and stretched my body. I noticed all kinds of pains in each one of my muscles, pain of soreness, but I was able to relax myself through the act of noticing. It is true: I had not noticed I was sore before inhabiting the body.

What is inhabiting the body? Well, I am sitting right now crouched in front of the keyboard. Let’s put the feet on the floor in order to ground ourselves. Lean back. Relax into your body.

Follow your breath, then begin typing. Sometimes self-consciousness gets the best of us, and we begin making even more mistakes than normal. Relax, allow the observer and the observed to become one.

An old memory of Goethe came to mind: in his autobiography, he tells of a story that during his childhood he invented for his friends on the fly. The amount of detail is staggering, and later on I read a fantasy short story of him, which name I do not recall at this time, exhibits the same attention to detail.

How can such minds exist? One is humbled by the genius exhibited in these minds, in comparison I am a chimp pounding at the keyboard. What contribution could I make in these poor attempts at poetry of life in the face of such genius.

If I cannot write or think as he does, I shall at least echo his creation through the means that I posess.