As I sit on the chair and explain to him my life dreams
I was so caught up in listening to his objections
And explaining to him how it would be successful
I forgot to tell him that this is what makes me feel alive
I forget to tell it to him in a way
That he wouldn’t respond with judgement
And disgust
As if one’s purpose was something flimsy and cheap
Not the energy
That created the great figures
He admires so much
Today I feel very tired but at least better rested than normal. I really want to finish my taxes today and I also want to experiment with art therapy and exercise to help get through the stress and effort of finishing.
My initial thoughts about art therapy is that it is all about reconnecting with your body…to do flow theory or follow what you feel. Art is about touching the forms with lines and paint, music is about creating sound, dance is about moving your body.
I’m doing more research. Here is a video that talks about using art to find a safe place:
Here is another video:
Current art therapy ideas:
But how does this translate to greater art creation? How does this create a world?
Thinking about this more, art creation is about the following:
I have a couple ideas of how to transition from therapeutic art to art art:
Today I got into a metal box
It’s not the kind you put into the ground
But the one that takes you from gate to gate
On the airplane filled tarmac
Except today I’m not leaving for a trip
It’s not a trip
It’s a move
And while it hasn’t quite hit me yet
Maybe I’m leaving a part of myself behind
Forever
Life though
Is always more gravel than dream
More grounded and real
Made up of experiences
Not places
Or cities
Austin
North Potomac
But I’ll miss them
Myself
My old comfortable life
That I snuggled in for so long
I’m afraid to grow up
Poke my head out from under the covers
I was thinking about the concept of how Alex Hormzi approaches learning. The idea that you purpose things in a way expecting to fail at first, but you pursue them in such a way that you make it hard for you to fail. That the chances that you will fail is lower than the chances of success.
I was thinking about what made emotional or spiritual success. And that brought me to a few different ideas. They all centered around one thing, the relationship with oneself. I believe that the relationship that you have with yourself dictates the freedom and happiness you have in life. Some ways in which I am not a kind or loving friend or parent to myself are:
What if I took this idea from Alex Hormzi? What if I accepted I am going to be a shit friend and parent to myself but I am going to ask myself what I need to do to make it harder to be unkind and unloving toward myself than it is to be kind and loving?
Well, what would the most loving parent do for me?
I want to know how I can make it impossible for me to not do that for myself.
Some ideas come to mind:
I don’t know how to come up with a strategy on how to mix this in with my life yet but some of my ideas includes:
And it hurts
Like fucking hell
When I think she says
I need autotune
And a backing track
That everyone who told me I was a good singer
Was probably being nice
Probably joking
And laughed when I told her that I try not to sing around girls I like
Because they always seem to like me afterward, and I don’t know if they actually like me
Or my singing
I’m livid
The subtext is clear
That I’m stupid or naive
Too wrapped up in my own head I can’t hear my own recordings properly
That I’m somehow terrible despite all evidence to the contrary
I can’t tell if she is tone deaf
Or just has such a low opinion of me, she assumes I’m bad
Or simply has an extremely high bar for singers
She can’t see any of the beauty that most people see
She doesn’t get that look
That I see in people’s eyes when I sing
That focus
Like I’ve completely captured their attention
She’s not like the mean girl in class
Who smiled at me and said hi for the first time after I sang
Or the blonde girl on the bench
Who started talking to me
After she heard me sing
She wasn’t all the people who told me that they wished they knew how to sing
She’s like the girl at work
Closed off
Sitting at her desk
Grumpy
Always with headphones on
Or my friend’s ex boyfriend
Who was probably jealous
He couldn’t sing
Because he thought I was annoying
Even though my friend thought I was cool
She tells me
There is only one person
Who she liked when they sang
A girl who was her old friend
I wonder why
She is able to see the beauty in her friend’s voice
But unable to even stop herself from shutting me out
When I sing
Because out of all the people
Who I wanted to share this beautiful thing with
The one I wanted to pour my heart out to
The one I wanted to look at me in that way
When I sang
Focused
Entranced
Like in a spell
Was her
And my heart is telling me
She will never get it
She will never hear my voice for what it is
Don’t Show Empathy
He told me
He looked matter a fact
Almost amused
He looked over to my boss
At least that’s what I was told
Because then they will try to negotiate for more
He said
My boss nodded slightly
I asked them how to do this with empathy
And they told me not to
They told me to use words
To make him feel good
As if I valued him
They didn’t know
I’m not scared of this conversation
But I did value him
I don’t need to pretend
But they are asking me to wait until the last minute to tell him
I talked to him today
And he looked at me
And I felt so caged
Unable to meet his eyes
Unable to be honest
They want to wait
To spring it on him all at once
As if this is something that needs to be done
With the fear of retribution in mind
My boss told me that it would be kindness to drag things on
But I didn’t sleep last night
So tired
Wound up tight
Like something is squeezing my heart shut
Like a hydraulic press
I wonder if it is worth
Being in a place
Where I feel this way
She told me she thought I wouldn’t notice
When she only replied to a handful of things
Of a series of long letters I wrote
How could I not notice
When I spend an hour
Pouring my heart out
Waiting every second of the day
For a response
She tells me she likes it when I write long letters
But I have grown wary of them
When I know
Most of it
Will never receive a response
She probably thinks that no response is better than a bad response
But silence is a response
It’s a blank check
For the deepest fears
And paranoia
Lurking in your brain
Letting your mind fill in the spaces
With explanations
For why the reason why the truth was too hard to say
Today I feel very tired but at least better rested than normal. I really want to finish my taxes today and I also want to experiment with art therapy and exercise to help get through the stress and effort of finishing.
My initial thoughts about art therapy is that it is all about reconnecting with your body…to do flow theory or follow what you feel. Art is about touching the forms with lines and paint, music is about creating sound, dance is about moving your body.
I’m doing more research. Here is a video that talks about using art to find a safe place:
Here is another video:
Current art therapy ideas:
But how does this translate to greater art creation? How does this create a world?
Thinking about this more, art creation is about the following:
I have a couple ideas of how to transition from therapeutic art to art art:
Today I got into a metal box
It’s not the kind you put into the ground
But the one that takes you from gate to gate
On the airplane filled tarmac
Except today I’m not leaving for a trip
It’s not a trip
It’s a move
And while it hasn’t quite hit me yet
Maybe I’m leaving a part of myself behind
Forever
Life though
Is always more gravel than dream
More grounded and real
Made up of experiences
Not places
Or cities
Austin
North Potomac
But I’ll miss them
Myself
My old comfortable life
That I snuggled in for so long
I’m afraid to grow up
Poke my head out from under the covers
I was thinking about the concept of how Alex Hormzi approaches learning. The idea that you purpose things in a way expecting to fail at first, but you pursue them in such a way that you make it hard for you to fail. That the chances that you will fail is lower than the chances of success.
I was thinking about what made emotional or spiritual success. And that brought me to a few different ideas. They all centered around one thing, the relationship with oneself. I believe that the relationship that you have with yourself dictates the freedom and happiness you have in life. Some ways in which I am not a kind or loving friend or parent to myself are:
What if I took this idea from Alex Hormzi? What if I accepted I am going to be a shit friend and parent to myself but I am going to ask myself what I need to do to make it harder to be unkind and unloving toward myself than it is to be kind and loving?
Well, what would the most loving parent do for me?
I want to know how I can make it impossible for me to not do that for myself.
Some ideas come to mind:
I don’t know how to come up with a strategy on how to mix this in with my life yet but some of my ideas includes:
And it hurts
Like fucking hell
When I think she says
I need autotune
And a backing track
That everyone who told me I was a good singer
Was probably being nice
Probably joking
And laughed when I told her that I try not to sing around girls I like
Because they always seem to like me afterward, and I don’t know if they actually like me
Or my singing
I’m livid
The subtext is clear
That I’m stupid or naive
Too wrapped up in my own head I can’t hear my own recordings properly
That I’m somehow terrible despite all evidence to the contrary
I can’t tell if she is tone deaf
Or just has such a low opinion of me, she assumes I’m bad
Or simply has an extremely high bar for singers
She can’t see any of the beauty that most people see
She doesn’t get that look
That I see in people’s eyes when I sing
That focus
Like I’ve completely captured their attention
She’s not like the mean girl in class
Who smiled at me and said hi for the first time after I sang
Or the blonde girl on the bench
Who started talking to me
After she heard me sing
She wasn’t all the people who told me that they wished they knew how to sing
She’s like the girl at work
Closed off
Sitting at her desk
Grumpy
Always with headphones on
Or my friend’s ex boyfriend
Who was probably jealous
He couldn’t sing
Because he thought I was annoying
Even though my friend thought I was cool
She tells me
There is only one person
Who she liked when they sang
A girl who was her old friend
I wonder why
She is able to see the beauty in her friend’s voice
But unable to even stop herself from shutting me out
When I sing
Because out of all the people
Who I wanted to share this beautiful thing with
The one I wanted to pour my heart out to
The one I wanted to look at me in that way
When I sang
Focused
Entranced
Like in a spell
Was her
And my heart is telling me
She will never get it
She will never hear my voice for what it is
Don’t Show Empathy
He told me
He looked matter a fact
Almost amused
He looked over to my boss
At least that’s what I was told
Because then they will try to negotiate for more
He said
My boss nodded slightly
I asked them how to do this with empathy
And they told me not to
They told me to use words
To make him feel good
As if I valued him
They didn’t know
I’m not scared of this conversation
But I did value him
I don’t need to pretend
But they are asking me to wait until the last minute to tell him
I talked to him today
And he looked at me
And I felt so caged
Unable to meet his eyes
Unable to be honest
They want to wait
To spring it on him all at once
As if this is something that needs to be done
With the fear of retribution in mind
My boss told me that it would be kindness to drag things on
But I didn’t sleep last night
So tired
Wound up tight
Like something is squeezing my heart shut
Like a hydraulic press
I wonder if it is worth
Being in a place
Where I feel this way
She told me she thought I wouldn’t notice
When she only replied to a handful of things
Of a series of long letters I wrote
How could I not notice
When I spend an hour
Pouring my heart out
Waiting every second of the day
For a response
She tells me she likes it when I write long letters
But I have grown wary of them
When I know
Most of it
Will never receive a response
She probably thinks that no response is better than a bad response
But silence is a response
It’s a blank check
For the deepest fears
And paranoia
Lurking in your brain
Letting your mind fill in the spaces
With explanations
For why the reason why the truth was too hard to say
Today I feel very tired but at least better rested than normal. I really want to finish my taxes today and I also want to experiment with art therapy and exercise to help get through the stress and effort of finishing.
My initial thoughts about art therapy is that it is all about reconnecting with your body…to do flow theory or follow what you feel. Art is about touching the forms with lines and paint, music is about creating sound, dance is about moving your body.
I’m doing more research. Here is a video that talks about using art to find a safe place:
Here is another video:
Current art therapy ideas:
But how does this translate to greater art creation? How does this create a world?
Thinking about this more, art creation is about the following:
I have a couple ideas of how to transition from therapeutic art to art art:
Today I got into a metal box
It’s not the kind you put into the ground
But the one that takes you from gate to gate
On the airplane filled tarmac
Except today I’m not leaving for a trip
It’s not a trip
It’s a move
And while it hasn’t quite hit me yet
Maybe I’m leaving a part of myself behind
Forever
Life though
Is always more gravel than dream
More grounded and real
Made up of experiences
Not places
Or cities
Austin
North Potomac
But I’ll miss them
Myself
My old comfortable life
That I snuggled in for so long
I’m afraid to grow up
Poke my head out from under the covers
I was thinking about the concept of how Alex Hormzi approaches learning. The idea that you purpose things in a way expecting to fail at first, but you pursue them in such a way that you make it hard for you to fail. That the chances that you will fail is lower than the chances of success.
I was thinking about what made emotional or spiritual success. And that brought me to a few different ideas. They all centered around one thing, the relationship with oneself. I believe that the relationship that you have with yourself dictates the freedom and happiness you have in life. Some ways in which I am not a kind or loving friend or parent to myself are:
What if I took this idea from Alex Hormzi? What if I accepted I am going to be a shit friend and parent to myself but I am going to ask myself what I need to do to make it harder to be unkind and unloving toward myself than it is to be kind and loving?
Well, what would the most loving parent do for me?
I want to know how I can make it impossible for me to not do that for myself.
Some ideas come to mind:
I don’t know how to come up with a strategy on how to mix this in with my life yet but some of my ideas includes:
And it hurts
Like fucking hell
When I think she says
I need autotune
And a backing track
That everyone who told me I was a good singer
Was probably being nice
Probably joking
And laughed when I told her that I try not to sing around girls I like
Because they always seem to like me afterward, and I don’t know if they actually like me
Or my singing
I’m livid
The subtext is clear
That I’m stupid or naive
Too wrapped up in my own head I can’t hear my own recordings properly
That I’m somehow terrible despite all evidence to the contrary
I can’t tell if she is tone deaf
Or just has such a low opinion of me, she assumes I’m bad
Or simply has an extremely high bar for singers
She can’t see any of the beauty that most people see
She doesn’t get that look
That I see in people’s eyes when I sing
That focus
Like I’ve completely captured their attention
She’s not like the mean girl in class
Who smiled at me and said hi for the first time after I sang
Or the blonde girl on the bench
Who started talking to me
After she heard me sing
She wasn’t all the people who told me that they wished they knew how to sing
She’s like the girl at work
Closed off
Sitting at her desk
Grumpy
Always with headphones on
Or my friend’s ex boyfriend
Who was probably jealous
He couldn’t sing
Because he thought I was annoying
Even though my friend thought I was cool
She tells me
There is only one person
Who she liked when they sang
A girl who was her old friend
I wonder why
She is able to see the beauty in her friend’s voice
But unable to even stop herself from shutting me out
When I sing
Because out of all the people
Who I wanted to share this beautiful thing with
The one I wanted to pour my heart out to
The one I wanted to look at me in that way
When I sang
Focused
Entranced
Like in a spell
Was her
And my heart is telling me
She will never get it
She will never hear my voice for what it is
Don’t Show Empathy
He told me
He looked matter a fact
Almost amused
He looked over to my boss
At least that’s what I was told
Because then they will try to negotiate for more
He said
My boss nodded slightly
I asked them how to do this with empathy
And they told me not to
They told me to use words
To make him feel good
As if I valued him
They didn’t know
I’m not scared of this conversation
But I did value him
I don’t need to pretend
But they are asking me to wait until the last minute to tell him
I talked to him today
And he looked at me
And I felt so caged
Unable to meet his eyes
Unable to be honest
They want to wait
To spring it on him all at once
As if this is something that needs to be done
With the fear of retribution in mind
My boss told me that it would be kindness to drag things on
But I didn’t sleep last night
So tired
Wound up tight
Like something is squeezing my heart shut
Like a hydraulic press
I wonder if it is worth
Being in a place
Where I feel this way
She told me she thought I wouldn’t notice
When she only replied to a handful of things
Of a series of long letters I wrote
How could I not notice
When I spend an hour
Pouring my heart out
Waiting every second of the day
For a response
She tells me she likes it when I write long letters
But I have grown wary of them
When I know
Most of it
Will never receive a response
She probably thinks that no response is better than a bad response
But silence is a response
It’s a blank check
For the deepest fears
And paranoia
Lurking in your brain
Letting your mind fill in the spaces
With explanations
For why the reason why the truth was too hard to say