A few weeks ago a woman at the park caught me beating up my van.
I didn't even know she was there until later.
I wasn't mad at anybody or anything.
I just felt the pressure of life getting to me.
The writing was slow and gruelling. My style felt off and I was working like a dog dealing with angry people.
Thorns of being an empath. Extra sensitivity surrounding me. It's been a long time since I lived in the city.
Completely opposite of Home.
The writing was slow and the solitary warrior rebuilding his voice, yet physically worn down.
Something incredible is happening to me I cannot explain.
Waves of light keep bombarding my body during meditation.
When I connect to compassion it ripples through me in divine ecstasy.
It's like a living Angel burning in my body.
It makes me cry.
It takes my words.
It speaks to me.
It even cries through me.
It's like Heaven is visiting me and it leaves me tongue tied.
Love bombs me and my Hiroshima is levelled.
My eyes smoldering, ten million shards of glass speaking through the Sun.
All my fragments coming back together.
God's tears are changing me and I actually wake up happy.
Songs keep playing from the juke box in my heart but I am so caught off guard by the language it uses I can't seem to interpret it in a way that even remotely pleases me.
Am I reaping rewards from transmuting my darkness?
Is this my heaven on earth?
God inside me.
Breaking through my mortal shell with ammunition so amazing I cannot capture a single blaze with any words that do it justice.
Do I need to run far away to the mountain and listen to grass speak?
Do I nose dive into silence?
Do I surf into awe?
Should I listen closer, expecting to blast off as the intensity of Love threatens to send me back through space?
Do I sit back, be patient, feel my roots grow even deeper as your whispers brighten like an incomprehensible tree from Heaven?
Do I shut up and open further as falling rain hits me and the fruit I eat is sweeter than Eden.