Alchemy,  Creative,  Healing Arts,  Philosophy


The pendulation between existential nihilism and gratitude-soaked presence is an interesting spectrum rail to ride. 

To feel and sense the insignificance and triviality of oneself. A crumbling away of assigned meaning. 

The stupidity of my small-mind attempts to figure anything out. 

They say comparison is the thief of joy. I agree but also find value in its ability to “reality-check” myself of any ideas of being “special”. 

I have worked hard over the years building confidence, self-esteem, self-validation. 

I still struggle.

But these concepts are revealing another side-of-the-coin to explore now. 

Can I be okay if I tear down these notions of “worth” and “value” and “gifts” to be shared with the world. Can I be okay with the idea that maybe I don’t have a “purpose”. 

When I do Xingyi, it makes me feel bitchy. Like I’d bluntly cut you with a directness that doesn’t give a shit about your feelings or what you think about me. 

When I punch and elbow strike, an aggressive pleasure arises in feeling like I could fiercely fuck you up. 

Such edgy and crunchy places for me to explore. 

A “self-concept” as well as projected upon “persona” as one who seems so chill and easy-going, who laughs easily and is generally good-natured.. 

One who played people-pleaser for so long to “fit-in”, to be “liked”, to be “loved”. 

Who gathered skills as “healer” when really it’s the wounded inner-child screaming “heal ME!”

Who studies esoterica because my mind gets off on “secret” knowledge. 

I wonder sometimes if this “devotional-seeker” is really just a half-assed selfish twat.

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