Espíritu Intuitivo

I love the way the breeze in the night runs its invisible fingers through the trees beside the neighborhood houses.  It reminds me of the cool wind I used to see outside of my window when you sat by me on my bed.  And it is the most intense trigger because at these nocturnal moments, I crave you.  I want you so close that your lips melt into mine when we kiss and I can carry your taste with me wherever I go.  I want you as close as my heart enclosed in my rib cage.  If my heart isn’t spacious enough, dwell in my cells, dwell in my brain.  You might already find yourself there.  And even if that is too limiting for us, inhabit my soul.  For it is as infinite as the universe that burst open to give birth to dust and flesh.  It allowed me to meet you.

This, above many reasons, is why I watch the wind run its invisible fingers through the trees.  Looking up at God in every star, I send a kiss to Her thanking Her for this brilliant creation.  And still, I crave you. 

I watched blood trickle down his face and fill his pores from gashes as open as red roses.  How dare you tell me about horror?  A metal pill is caught in the heart of a mother in front of her child, and little did I know that the sound that covered her scream was the alarm that woke me up in the morning.  How dare you tell me about horror?  Have you ever heard your own mother scream as a piece of light was being taken from her?  And you’re all of seven years on this earth, and my God, you don’t understand what that does to a woman.  I spent many nights nursing a thumping heart that shook my little body from all the sounds in those streets.  I wish I had headphones to mute the sounds in my house.  The “would-be” fireworks and the “would-be” laughter that turned into cries.  How dare you tell me about horror?

Last night I had some of the most strange dreams.

One, I realized I was floating, or rather, flying at a high speed through a beautiful neighborhood.  I was flying past this house because it looked so strange.  It was a sky blue house that was nothing more than a rectangle.  And I remember thinking, “I bet it’s pretty beautiful inside there because most houses look a certain way from the outside, but inside, it’s always different.”  Then I floated away to another dream I guess.

The other dream was like watching what reincarnation is like.  I remember reading long ago on in5d.com about what it’s like to make a soul contract.  Basically we set up certain parts of our lives and challenges, and we purposefully make ourselves forget upon taking human form.  I was watching my younger brother Eric play out a certain mission he had set for himself.  He created every circumstance of the mission, the environment and the people.  He kept dying and coming back to the very same thing, trying to complete a specific mission.  It was like watching Source Code with Jake Gyllenhaal, except my brother kept purposely making himself forget certain things.  

I was watching all of this from a sky view.  The interesting part about this dream was that I was joined by my brother’s father while watching him.  I have a different father than my two younger brothers.  They both have the same father.  Their father died in 2005.  That’s why I find it interesting that me and Eric’s father were both watching my brother live out his mission.  

This goes down as one of my top five most interesting dreams ever.

#1 being the dream I had that I was a woman and I gave a bloody birth to a little boy

Maybe in order for the children to prosper, adults have to loosen their grasp on the need to live.
I was wondering if the world would change when the sun could light up the entire sphere altogether at one time. But maybe it has to see darkness, and then light made by fire by fire before the sun can shine for everyone.

You speak in waves of emotion. Sometimes I wonder if you know that I feel you before you speak. In all the space between there exists pools of colors and shades too heavy for the palette. And then you dare to open your mouth, not knowing how many of the roses have been shaken from the bundle the second you part your lips.

Because 

a poet

needs

ink

before

he 

can

put 

the 

pen

to

paper

and

write

Old people and technology fuck me up

You have sought Christ in the book
and sought peace in words of a confidant
You’ve freely given over your heart to others
so that they may sow back together the torn pieces
You searched the sky for the Sun
when the Sun had already shone 
I pointed out to you the heaven in your own heart
so look in the mirror and come home

I.

The thing that scares me most about life is its unpredictability.  A handful of Masters of life tell us how we choose what we experience, that on some level, we create every experience we have.  But do we choose everything?  I’m not so sure.  Or maybe I don’t understand.  I need answers to that one.  I’m seeing answers to my questions pop up faster and faster, and God, I’m telling You, I need answers to this one.  After tonight, it just has me thinking about the way things happen in life.  It brings me back to the sudden way I received the news of my two friends dying in a car wreck my senior year of high school.  It makes me wonder what else could be around the corner.  As deeply spiritual as I am, as much as I read Seth Speaks, Conversations With God, follow Eckhart Tolle or Jesus Christ, I’m not so sure I truly understand some things they’ve all said.  How is that we choose this?  Who truly chooses?  Why?

II.

As a person who continuously types as an INFP, sometimes INFJ, I read a lot that we’re attracted to sad things.  I can’t say that’s true for all INFPs, but it’s true for me as an actor/artist.  Not so much in my everyday life away from my creative pursuits.  Definitely evident in my writing here.  As long as I’ve decided I’ve wanted to be an actor, I’ve been given numerous comedic roles or have been in comedic plays/films.  They’ve been fun and people have enjoyed my performances, but these are not the type of roles I crave.  I want to cry as a character.  I want to yell.  I want to be a destructive character on stage or on camera.  I want to be vile, someone who is hated.  I want to embody the characters who dominantly embody many of the painful feelings keep at bay.  I want to let out the emotions I keep control of so well around others.  I’m attracted to these roles because most of the tragedy and hardship of my life took place in my childhood and teenage years.  For the most part, that pain has gone unexpressed how I truly need it to be.  And doing that in a comedic role only allows so much room for me.  I asked myself why I wanted to be an actor one time.  I wanted it to be some big reason, something passionate.  But it was simple:  To scream so that I could let out all of the pain from my early years.  Yes, I type as an INFP.  And that’s why I’m attracted to sad things.

Hey beautiful Tumblr people,

This night has left me in a frantic state of mind, and my family also.  My uncle was just rushed to the hospital.  He came home from work sick today and started throwing up very badly.  He was in the bathroom and began to lose consciousness just 30 minutes ago.  We have no idea what’s going on with him.  I’ve not seen my grandmother cry since I was 12 years old, so I know she’s incredibly worried (my grandmother takes care of my uncle since he has Down Syndrome).  All I ask is for your prayers.  One or more gathered in prayer or in the intent for good will helps.

Thank you and enjoy your night

LeVance

Sometimes I tire from the kisses
and the hunger for carnal celebration
Sometimes I want to be just like we
are now.  Face to face with our eyes closed, sharing this silent state of Being. 

When the senses are fat from being fed, sometimes all I care to do is close my eyes and simply feel you there.

The plea for affection sprang from her eyes like daisies
I wondered how that could be when the soil it sprang from was eroding away
Cry, my dearly beloved soul, I’ll pluck these gifts
I’ll put away these offerings of nature in the garden of my heart
And you can allow your wings to carry you away to your Peace

When I was 5 years old I had my first girlfriend. The first day of kindergarten, she came up to me, without knowing me, and said “You want to be my boyfriend?” I said yes. That was that. She broke up with me the next day when she came up to me and said very plainly “I don’t want to be together anymore” and I said okay. That was that. Growing up has made me realize we have created a bunch of unnecessary details around hello & goodbye.

When I look upon Life, the sun explodes inside of me with the same intense burst it does right before I enter you.  The brilliance of everything I see before my eyes demands words and demands understanding.  The explosion is a mystery of its own.  Therefore, it demands poetry and lyrics that try to encompass the feeling.  I understand that there is no color to the wind, but when I see it carry red leaves down my street in the fall, I put this pen to paper to interpret the feeling it gives me.  These feeble creative attempts are me trying to sum up God the Goddess.  She touches through silence, awakens with a whisper and gives love with a thrust.  She is the sun exploding inside of me that gives me the feeling that cannot be summed up with words.

I’ve never felt my face burn while wet
until I stood close to the sun
the rain spat down at me
with the utmost distaste
And then my world 
became snow
the sun and the storm clouds receded
as I saw, falling from the sky,
utter perfection in a snowflake

Some people are so incredibly negative.  Imagining the worst possible scenarios.  And they wonder why, not only bad things seem to happen to them, but they stay stuck in that cycle.

Take your black cloud and get the hell on.  Literally, take your hell with you.

Strike the match
lift my hand above my head
my pores soaked in gasoline
my lungs screaming at the toxins
I drop the flame and embrace the scorch
inside & out I burn blue with passion
take the letters I write to you
and see the proof of my love in their blackened edges

Not in a pessimistic sense, but out of a curiosity of what happens when I’m no longer part of this body.  When I was 18 and it was my senior year of high school, two of my good friends, who I ate lunch with everyday, died together in a car accident.  I believe as a process of dealing with my own grief, I went to the school library one day with my mind full of curiosity about what happens after a person dies.  I simply wanted to find something to read.  While in the library, I just happened to catch the title Life After Life by Raymond Moody.  That was the book I went with.  I believe that book was the beginning of my path to how I currently understand metaphysics, death, God and the nature of our souls.  With that book, and a little Jonathan Livingston Seagull (A few months after the accident, we were reading this in my English class after I’d finished Moody’s book, and I made a hell of a connection to the two texts), I was slowly shedding religion and coming up with my own answers for many things aside from this physical existence.  This has led me to all things metaphysical in the past five years.  From understanding my own psychic abilities, meditation, having out of body experiences on accident, Seth Speaks and Conversations With God.  There’s many other subjects and books to name.

With all of that, I still think about death every day of my life.  Because I know that someday it will end.  At least this physical existence will end.  I partially know what it’s like since I’ve been out of my body before.  There is no body, there is no form.  Just consciousness.  That’s a colossal understatement compared to the experience.  I don’t think I fear death as much as I fear how I’m going to die.  I constantly use my imagination to create my world now that I understand my power, and so I constantly picture dying in my sleep.  Don’t judge me.  I can try.  It’s better than being mauled to death by a lion or some shit. 

People think I’m crazy, but I think I’m just understanding myself better.  It’s not like I look to the future, missing the flowers on the side of the road, so to speak.  My grandma used to tell me of this biblical heaven of golden streets and going to church on Sundays.  I thought “that’s just fucking boring”.  I grew up being told that death is the end all be all.  And my mind begged to know, “Okay, we are at peace after death…but what’s after that?”  I believe I’ll be at peace, but I know there are other things to explore after this life.  So it’s hard for me to think of death in this life as the definitive end of existence.  Maybe I’ll finally get the chance to appear as a scary ghost just to scare the shit out of people.  Maybe I’ll finally be able to touch a book and instantly absorb all of the information in it.  Until then, I’m re-learning what’s inside.  The silent space I go when I close my eyes, the space between two thoughts, there’s a whole world of truth there.

I asked my friend if he ever had an angel fall asleep on his chest.  The obvious answer shows in the tickled twist of your lips.  The angel I spoke of is you.  To be fully be alive with all that lives, to move with the wind, to be still with the pavement, to sway with dandelions, and in those moments, simultaneously taste a kiss you’ve never known before from God Herself.  I equate this unearthly event to you resting your precious head of hair on my chest.  

After you acquainted me with the downtrodden parts of your heart you wanted me to see, I was stricken with the thought that maybe I could give you the gift of flight.  I was told that when someone comes into your life, look for the gift you can give them.  In my elation at the discovery, I found my being consumed with weightlessness.  Slowly I found myself in the clouds as if trying to find that biblical heaven.  Knowing I could offer my light to help you find your salvation allowed me to kiss the atmosphere.  It was then I realized that falling in love with you has given me flight.  But you were still on the ground. 

When will you join me?

I was born at midnight
And perhaps this explains
Why I find no gravity in the day
No grounding in sunlight
When the moon shines at the darkest hour
I am leveled with peace by constellations
I am given the experience of rebirth
And my original haven is mine once again

Wrapped in deceitful vines
the rose bleeds from
wounds left by its own thorns
angels bathe in fiery sunlight
with their ears sealed with blindness
and indifference gives way to death
chasing the sun
running toward the horizon
crying at the illusion
with the realization
that they’ve been running in circles
the great ball of flame
that ever burning bliss is not here
and yet others lust after it
even my guides bathe in its illusion
and so the rose is wrapped
up with vines
bleeding from self grown thorns
this perpetual torment only exists
because amnesia exists simultaneously with it in darkness

When I’m in love, I’m monogamous. That is the only person I’m with. When I’m single, asking me to pick between two women is not as easy as discriminating between what pair of boxers I’m wearing before class. It’s not like I lie to them about each other, but if I have a bag of Jolly Ranchers, I’m not gonna eat just the red ones.

Have you ever been that open?  I’d built these walls, you see.  These walls that were made of the most deeply rooted insecurity and hurt you can think of.  Bullets and bombs didn’t have a chance.  The thing is, I didn’t realize that I’d built them.  It was like someone was going behind my back, or working inside of me, without my knowledge, and building a whole city centered around this pain.  And you know what it took to break it down?  Another heart that was built just like mine.  Except she’d rebuilt her city and it operated on Love.  I fought her back.  I pushed her away for months and she still let me into her door every time.  On this night, I felt her make a crack in my wall.  That had never happened.  And then another.  And then another.  She extended her arms out for me and kept trying to hug me.  She kept coming.  Then she wrapped me in her arms.  They were the warmest arms I’d ever felt in my life.  It reminded me of a story of a near-death experience where a little boy talked of being wrapped in the wings of an angel.  Those walls didn’t have a chance.  Not a fuckin chance in the world.  And I was torn open.  My tears burned my eyes, and it was the most painful and beautiful thing I’d ever felt.  We stood there that night holding each other in her room.  I went home after she’d fallen asleep.  On my way there I noticed that I didn’t feel any better.  I was still a walking mass of venom, black cloud and fire.  But what was different was that it was all open.  All that shit that I kept behind that wall, all that shit that the wall was composed of in the first place, it was demolished.  My tears has soaked my pillows as I laid myself to sleep.  I strangely felt like somehow, since I was staring right at all of it for the first time, that I’d actually be fine.  

For years
I’ve given
and given
my riches
but I still
can’t seem
to cash
this check
so that I
may profit from
my own worth

I seek to create Love, Light and Peace in the spaces I find myself in nowadays.  I used to look at the world and see how everyone was trying to change the world instead of trying to change their inner world.  I never realized the power or depth of my viewpoint.  I seek a better world where there is more peace, and there is no more “might is right” and no more every man for himself mentality.  But I feel that the only way to do that is to lead people back to themselves in whichever way I can, whichever way serves them.  If that means offering words of guidance if they seek it, or merely letting them walk their own path.  I simply extend the invitation for others to see their own Light.  The choice to listen or go their own way is always theirs.

It only makes sense that peace inside eventually leads to peace outside.  The collective consciousness of the world has been one of fear for so long.  And anyone who disagrees, I tell you to look at the state of our world.  The operating thoughts, the intentions, arise from Fear.  That’s what has been leading our world.  If you choose, if you dare, seek to create a collective consciousness of Love wherever you are.  Be the Light.  Don’t ask why someone isn’t changing something.  As the familiar saying goes, “Be the change”.  With a Collective Consciousness of Love, the world will change.  I believe we have more than a chance of not fully bringing about our own demise.

You don’t have to be Jesus, Lord Krishna, Buddha, or even MLK to shift something. You are made of the same Light they were made of.  So step out in Love if you choose.