It all starts with familiarity.
Things that use to have names to me
but now have
full blown functions in my life.
That process speeds up the doing.
It is all quasi declared
as identified to me.
I have skills with this
in mundane ways.
My entire life is methods for relating.
And so I start from there
going somewhere in thought.
It is a internal process
that I take up with.
It is slippery to think about that much,
as if I was watching myself do it.
It was nowhere and now it is here.
It comes out of the ethers to be sure.
I have done it,
shit, we all have done it
every day of our lives.
It’s how next things come.
It’s a doing
as these things come up.
It’s stuff to do and get attached to.
That’s what I first notice.
It’s the fill of most activity.
It’s a curiosity towards involvement,
a time spent, the fill of my story,
some inklings of attachment,
some habits of repeatable success,
a consensual of culture,
my m.o. and current predicament.
It’s slippery to notice
in any other ways.
It is a do and then a done,
an outfitting of it, experientially
towards memories
in much the same way as desires
or dreams remembered are.
There is an investment,
like an effort into saga,
now a sense of attachment,
a savvy of how to participate,
involvement into meaningful
and then possibly a necessity
to happen again and again.
Remember what I am saying to you,
is all fluid,
but without much awareness
as thought.
It exists as a given for now.
Hardly even a deconstruct
would reveal it.
There are difficult edges
to grasp it in any other way.
It is confounding unto itself.
How to entertain it
as a different point of view?
To yield a conscious inner dialogue
with possible language
to share with another,
not obvious or easy.
The more astute the awareness,
the less likely
words will come forth
to pronounce it.
It takes me away
and it does not come when called.
Whatever the medium
of this as process,
it does have an ongoing momentum,
but it is not apparent.
If dreams and desires were taken on
in much the same way,
as if like a wardrobe to be worn
for that period of time,
soon they would lead to the question,
who of me, is wearing them?
What is this fashion of my mind?
And how did this all take place
within me,
unobstructed and almost unobserved?
For me, I can’t put so much attention
into this question
so as the part of me to answer
has gone into a fade.
It is a delicate expansion
and then a balance.
Most of the normal tools of experience
are too gross or don’t really apply.
It is maybe a lot like fishing,
in that in that situation,
I have to be the fisherman, the boat,
the lake, the water and the fish,
sort of all at the same time
while giving credence to pole,
line, hook and worm,
yet doing it all together.
Somehow it is all in there,
I mean in me, like in you,
but it is not like normal living.
It is not like me just doing stuff.
It is somehow inside of normal stuff.
It is more like me doing and being
at the same time
and becoming aware of that
without messing up
the evidential process
as I know it to be.
It is richly revealing
and yet ongoing mysterious
in a self-secret sort of way.
And I go
where it takes me.
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