THIS Rhett Butler Will Never Die

i've been keeping secrets for too long. not writing here, perhaps it's what has caused me to lose connection to my inner flowing stream that keeps everything unified. i used to write here the most when i was most alone with myself. over the past two years i've been engaged with activities in the physical world and psychic world with another being that has given me more of an illusion of NOT being alone, and i think it's served me with less benefit for the course of where my soul is destined to end up than it's helped me. i'm glad it happened, don't get me wrong. even in the least fulfilling types of experiences, i'm able to find some sort of contentment. the encounters i've had with this other being were never full, or satisfying. they were always just a form of temptation and offered illusions of greater things that i dreamed of experiencing. whether my ability to conjure greater satisfaction out of the resources that were available to me was my o...

I used to dream about travelling. Mainly during my teenage years I became infatuated with visions in my mind of going to faraway places to see the marvels of architecture and history and natural beauty unlike what is found in the area where I live. Not saying that where I live does not have it's own features of architectural, historical or natural beauty to espy, it's just that there are so many other places that you learn of where incredible things have happened, where incredible structures have been built (or were built and now lay in beautiful ruins), or where there are marvels of nature so different to the area where you live, you develop a desire to see these places in person. To experience them first hand. To have a, "I've seen it, now I believe it's real", type of experience. I used to dream specifically of seeing Paris (truth be known, I still dream of seeing Paris), the ruins of Athens, the Scottish Highlands, the Fjords of Norway, and oddly enough,...

i've been working on writing this novel that i was first inspired about back in 2005 for 8 years now. and i'm getting closer and closer to the end of the story. this month of July is another opportunity for me to sit down for 30 straight days and knock out a big chunk of it during a period of #nanowrimo writing madness; the main way i've accomplished getting any of the writing of this novel done. sometimes the writing is very inspired and just flows out of me... other times, like tonight, i get stuck. and i'm not sure why. i have not been stuck like i am tonight in a very long time. i'm so stuck i can't even think of saying more about being stuck.

sometimes there is just no explaining things. that last entry that i wrote was one of the most crucial and brutal experiences i've ever gone through in my entire life. a relationship like none other. and i really believed that i needed to, and was, going to die. well, i'm here now and it's July. i was going to be dead by the end of May according to how I felt being separated from my muse-girl. time continued on and did it's normal erosion-like thing of bringing about natural change. that which is strong and true will survive, and that which is corrupt and false will fall away. remarkable transformations have occurred in the life of my muse-girl over the past month. somehow a spirit of fiery truth has gotten into her and she is no longer able to settle for living with people who torture her with mediocrity or lies and falsehoods. Her longtime boyfriend has reached a position of intolerability and she has left him for the last time, with no feelings that she'll ever...

someone please come bury us... that's practically what it feels like should happen. two full months have passed since my last entry here where I spoke about the digression of my wonderful friendship with my muse-girl, and even though i refused to give up, in my mind, or with my actions, my heart link stayed connected to her, well now it is all severed. there is only memories and ashes. she has ground me and all of my hopes of ever having any esteem in her eyes to crushed bone beneath her iron-studded boot heels. she hates me. i, in one sense and one sense only, have given up the fight right now. and that sense is because of her how blinded she has become to any of the light that does exist inside of, between us. i know it is still there. i feel it. it will not go out. i have not lost my love for her or my belief in her or us. but i am in such a dismal state of self-worth right now because of how she has ground me to believe that, in her opinion i am nothing but a source of damage...

i've never felt anything like this happen before. not exactly like this because i don't believe it. okay, wait. i've been through a divorce. i was married. joined solidly by the heart to someone after living with them for 8 years. whether you fully love a person during times like that or not, there is attachment and the tearing apart of such attachment hurts. i remember hurting, a lot when that happened. my friend, my best friend that I could communicate with such truth to has just told me that she does not want me as a friend any longer. that she is unable to bear the negativism of how I have behaved, of how I have treated her. that i've become a foul tasting thing in her life and memories. i acknowledged my sins. but when i tried to remind her of good memories, there were none that arose in her mind, the blackness of my miserableness was too thick for her to see through. now the strange thing to me is, that despite this casting out... i do not feel a separation in...