Relax little caterpillar – Nothing is under control (prose)

It’s as if I can’t get naked enough for this heat and humidity tonight. Duvet yer too thick. Water is not wet enough. Can’t study, can’t think. Stop thinking. Relax. Grateful for this moment. Too hot, too humid, too many things on my mind, still smiling.
I am a tornado on fire in a box that is melting. I am Goku’s hair. I am the people’s elbow. I am Dante’s Inferno, I am Macbeth’s meeting with the witches, I am Hacksaw Jim Duggan’s 2 by 4, I am Spawn’s cape, I am Cruella Deville’s miserable childhood, I am Wolverine’s adamantium cocyx. I am using obscure references that alienate other poets again. I am a caterpillar. Again. I am hitting the reset button. Again.
I am the day before the night that changed your life.

I am amazed yet unphased. I am writing more prose these days.
I am waste, I am a loser, I am success, I am divine.
I am aware that poetry doesn’t have to rhyme.

I am changing. As always.

I am the liquid mess that will re-emerge with wings. I used to be a caterpillar.

xxx xxxxx xxxxxxxx

Undeniable feeling of inevitable immensity. Something huge round the corner? Is it personal or universal? I guess either way it’s just perspective, something big is always happening, we’re on a beautiful watery rock spiralling through space round a big ball of fire that’s also rocketing through space. But within the illusion of time and space and the illusion of ‘I’ it feels relatively accurate to say that I have an undeniable feeling of inevitable immensity…

xxx xxxxx xxxxxxxx

I have not lived with uncertainty for a while. I was a pro at it, especially between 2006 and 2012, couch-surfing, squatting, travelling, rainforests, basements, livingrooms, other peoples caravans and other peoples vans. And taking risks has generally paid off, I usually land on my feet through the sheer act of cultivating good relationships with good people. Couple of years of domesticated behaviour and uncertainty seems scary again. Which is kind of ludicrous really, cos in reality uncertainty is all we ever have.

Could be hit by a meteor tomorrow. Could win the lottery.

Yet when uncertainty becomes obvious it seems scary. Maybe it’s a biological imperative, an evolutionary leftover, to fear uncertainty or be left with no shelter to fend off the wolves. Stability is desirable. But danger is sexy. So that’s just another
inconclusive story.

I feel like my soul is bursting out of it’s skin. That’s less terrifying or psychedelic than it sounds, it’s similar to that feeling when you’re bursting to express a new and unformulated idea but need to communicate it clearly rather than scream it quickly cos you’re excited about it. It seems like it would be difficult to relax, but it’s not. Yes, I could easily label this feeling as merely ‘stressed’. Someone else might also add ‘and confused’. But I’m not confused, I know exactly how I feel, I just don’t think they have invented enough words to describe the infinite shades of emotions and although one might call it call it stressed that would imply that I’m not alright with it. I am. I can still relax.

Maybe I want to know what happens if my soul bursts out of it’s skin.

I am not a buddhist monk in the lotus flower of nirvana, there are times when I am not alright with being stressed. Perhaps they have not invented enough words to describe the infinite shades of emotions but perhaps the combinations when one reads between the lines the holy texts which concern the space between physical matter, the unseen, that which is seen by all and none, the understood but not comprehended, the inconceivable yet inevitable, a saucer flying across a kitchen thrown in a fit of rage juxtaposed with a cuddle in purple duvet, the morning dew drop on a blade of grass juxtaposed with the evening blood drop on a blade of steel, a love unconditional, under-appreciated selfless love that sought no appreciation. Bittersweet organic lemon and forest honey tea bitter sweet. Horrifically perfect beautiful imperfections.

There is an aspect of my soul waiting to hatch. Bursting out. Spreading wings. Ever the constant caterpillar, heavy rotation to the larval stage.

Is it the uncertainty? Is it the storm? Is it strange? Is it the norm?
Is it universal? Is it personal? Is it intuition? Or is it just the storm?

ps More hugs, cuddles and massages please universe. Thank you! x



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