Pokhara & Love; surrender or fight?

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Hola Bebe, I'm back, and a little better. Of course, I know, still the same, but you have to remember the earth is hurling through space at a rapid rate, and still, where I sit is still. Forgive me for sometimes associating with the solar system and not the dirt. The peaceful dirt. I want to write what my eyes see and not what's behind them. To describe Pokhara. The men who row long thin wooden boats across the warm water. The snow peaked mountains you can see over the smaller green ones. The clouds from the evaporating snow that turn dark and fall into the lake. They get here quicker than the snow that melts. I sat in the worst café I could find and of course its where I felt most comfortable. Two Nepalese girls sit beside me and hand me a joint. We all smoke it and then I roll one, one girl leaves so me and one other girl share it. A kid that lives there, a son of the owners walks around. No one is bothered they’re smoking weed and hash in front of a small child. He sees my notebook and starts drawing pictures. I draw a picture too and he laughs. I miss my nephews and nieces a lot, I want to pick him up and tickle him, give him a hug, instead I sit there and say,

“Beautiful!” when he draws something.

I sat there and read the first draft of my first book. It was okay, but it has a lot of work to do yet. I haven’t known what I'm doing the whole time so I'm not too concerned I still don’t. Me and the girl sharing a joint hardly talk, I didn’t have the energy, I rarely do. So I left there. My stomach has been fighting something for days now. It keeps me within walking distance of home. Bad habits and heavy energy sticks to my stature. A girl I met in Rishikesh is here, she invites me to a concert. I say yes, meeting her I was nervous and my stomach was aching. I felt like Michael Jordan in his flu game. I was off the mark and she is polish and silent. I asked the same question twice within the first five minutes and then just gave up. I was sweating and wasn’t sure if I should be. We finally find the place and a group of four are preparing the area. It’s a backyard, like one you would find in Australia. Its an old heritage style ceremony. A man walks around with a bowl of smoke and cleans the air. I sat with the polish girl and didn’t speak as we both rolled a joint. Eventually she goes to sit down in front of the ceremony. Six people with their legs crossed and eyes closed. I sit a bit off on a rock because my body couldn’t think of anything worse than doing that. It was cultish and weird. Then the rain came which was a blessing. Everyone moved beneath cover and they carried all the different instruments they use. I don’t know the name but you can imagine; Sound bowls, big funny guitars, an air piano thing, little drums. My brain couldn’t guess any of them and I feel stupid. (bongos!)

As I sat there, smoking away I surrendered to the situation. I could feel the energy of the frequencies getting within my solar plexus and making my sore stomach go away. I think pain is the only thing I listen too. Pain and love, whatever the difference…

That night I closed my eyes and played drums on my knees and listened to the music. I let go and it felt as if the world put it on for me, as if the world said ‘Hey man, we know you’ve been doing it a little tough in your head and body lately, this will help.’

It made me think that God is external. That, yes, we are all our own god, but the self that has the capacity to say ‘I am god’ also cannot fathom a slither of what god actually can. Its humbling to know the voice in your head interpreting your body cannot associate itself as a god. That there is a bigger thing than you and you must trust it. Trust it.

So as I sit, weak to my cheap thrills like alcohol and porn. For days I had tried to strong arm it. I wont masturbate tomorrow. I wont send anyone photos. I wont be obsessed with sex tomorrow. All lies to justify the moment and then when the time comes for discipline you trick yourself into thinking its okay. Then another day of no energy and no urge to take the headphones out and listen to the natural orchestra of reality. So I gave it up and I said, God, please give me the strength to stop wanking over porn. I will go seven days with the power from above. Its been one and its been good!

In the morning I walk to the same café and order a macchiato and a vegie burger and I learn Spanish. Who gives a fuck lol

Now four days without porn and the energy has found its way into my muscles. Today I hired a mountain bike and rode to a lake 15km away. I sit now, beside the lake, scared of leeches and life and write to you.

What does a man do?

Follow his heart or his mind?

What does a man do when he doesn’t know where the thoughts come from, if the heart is using the voice in your skull to warn you of mistakes made a million times in the past. Does all the joy a woman brings then bring pain in her absence?

It is not anxiety, it is not depression, it is not intuition to run away, it is just the absence of joy. What type of life is that… Go find joy where you are, go be present, go do something fun… Ok, but lets be real here, lets all quit the bullshit that we have that ability, we have that control. Yes, I know, I do try and have my practises to make me feel normal, that silence; the pull of the full moon that is drawing my blood to its glow.

Its strange you know, not being able to give up and firmly believe in what I pretend to know. Does she remind you of your ex-girlfriend because you love her or because she makes you feel all those insecurities and insanity as well?

Will it just end the same way or have you learnt from the past to be able to sit within the flames and bask in light and warmth without smouldering and erupting to run away frightened?

Should we blame love for everything it exposes to then sit in the shadows of our comfortable lies?

I have more questions than answers and I know my mind is not going to be able to settle wherever these emotions come from. Let go. For how long and of what? Her?

Then are you dictated by fear or an inner wisdom?

I can let go of everything, I can run to the mountains and be a hermit, I can buy ten ghorkas and shake my soul up, I can silence the whispers, easily.

I have been with girls that make me feel safe, but they don’t make me feel much else. Does love bring unsettlement because you're scared to lose it or is that cheap lust because true love wouldn’t make you feel like this. What cotton candy land bullshit that must be, for it to just be easy, that is boring, right?

So, you're dammed if you do, dammed if you don’t and when you learn you're either a genius who knew it all along or its too late, and there's nothing worse than too late.

For every page I write I could write another, making sensical answers and observations of my psyche, validating or ridiculing my personal truth. Blow my brains out like all the others who tried to find an answer. This is just the way it makes me feel. This is how I am. This is who I am. It feels the same as being fifteen years old, you just project a little less, but the valve needs to be released into the world otherwise ill implode with apathy for its too much and in my apathy want to die because its nothing.

So I can twirl in a room of doom that has a door to leave. Or I can turn that twirl into a beautiful dance.. I can sell my house, pursue a career with a .0002% success rate and leave a world behind, but can I endure loving someone who could turn around tomorrow and say she does not want to speak to me anymore as if she was going to a different restaurant for breakfast.

I've come this far, why not?
You’ve come this far, why?
I make a conscious decision to be hopeless, thanks to romanticism. And look at all the trouble it has caused in the past. Sitting right beside all that joy.

So, Riley, I ask you this…
When Ralph died, did you wish he was never born?

No, I was grateful for the time we shared and I knew I did everything I could with my level of awareness to appreciate the time we shared. But Ralph loved me back, he was consistent.

Was he ever trouble?

Always.

And if you go, to chase the pull in your heart as if she is your moon. And it ends the worst way possible, will you regret it?

Maybe… because I can feel it. It feels wrong.

Why?

It’s a power that I cant control and I don’t think it makes me better.

Do nothing. Until you need to. The answer will come. The soul is always on time, the heart and the mind just have to be patient.

Okay.

And please, remember, you deserve love.

So do you.

Ask for an omen.

Like what?

Ummm. If you should go, you will see a shooting star.

Ok, ill stay up all night, hoping to see one. Because I do want to go, I just want her to want me to go as much I want to. But everyone shows their love in different ways, why cant they show it the same way as me? Why cant everyone be like me, why do I have to change?

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