FOMO Of The Senses, Pt. One

Beauty of Bubbles

I’m feeling as though I need to be brutally honest. Not with the intent to be brutal... and I don’t want to over-rotate, but... to be honest to the point of risk... and then into risk. Because without the risk, there is no - ... no highs, just minor swells of in-between. Like there are still lows - No risk and still Lows - but the highs...? I mean, maybe occasionally... short-lived. When we do and don't know how.. its like when two distinct complex patterns momentarily synchronize - or seemingly so. Empty bliss... enjoyably empty gestures... the beauty of bubbles. We float - mystifyingly so - reflecting the world as it is not. Empty and fragile... to burst with no pieces to collect and build again, ... just gone. Because our film was so thin, lacked substance, weight... lacked the consistency of that which comes with risk. The beauty of bubbles... the effortlessness, the carefree, the whim... the ability to disappear... due to a consistency made to wash clean. Because what you risk... sticks and gums and clings and spills and soils and stains, has substance and mixture and composition, leaves residue - evidence it was there, of it’s presence... of attempt... to be something... more than - ? ... beauty of bubbles.

-Pati3ntWo1f (11012019)

Crazed

I'm crazed by how the thought of you overwhelms my immediately/ and expodiciously exposes my vulnerability exceedingly/ needing this fix, shock, wake up call/ to awaken my ability to be enthralled/ shock becomes awe as numb becomes dumb/ to the sensation that mundane can make ones sensation become/ u conquered (my defenses) I saw (felt u while senseless) we came (and climax consistent)/ forever changed (ever-present and persistent)/ for I thought and dreamed and knew you/ I wished and believed and knew you/ I doubted and denied, coward and lied to myself in the face of your truth/ knowledge of you is spiritual, protecting you is ritual/ wanting you is now habitual, as the idea of living without you is minescule/

-Pati3ntWo1f

Follow me to you

“Feels great to step back from the moment and see yourself and how breath-taking you've become. I am priveleged that my attempts have reached u,through the fog and chatter; and that u let me lead u to my view point - from where I look upon all that is you. Any awe is not my doing. My credit is only leading you. The view, my view, what has inpspired each word of mine that has moved you to feel and question (in disbelief) how i could see, feel, speak into you as such... is solely you... your doing... your being.”

-Pati3ntWo1f

you don't need a nickname. your presence is such that those who hear of you already know whom the person speaking is referring to... somehow, it just comes off differently from the speaker. an inability to filter the aura you permiate - thus since energy is neither created nor destroyed, the speaker simply holds your aura's energy (weightlessly) until it is transferred with their chosen medium after being queued to release by their thought of you and whatever they desire to communicate on such related subjects.

-Pati3ntWo1f (111820)

Statement of Intent

You okay if I take some of that weight on my shoulders and I intent-fully commit myself to your honest expression - as a form of homage to self, respect, recognition, reverence, release, restructure, renew, reenergize, … and potentially so many other plusses that there can be no minus….? May I? Yes?

Statement of My Intentions:

I intend to not pressure but be an available reminder. I intend to not burden but to ease. I intend to not limit or define or expect. I intend to accompany, to balance, to provide presence and mutuality. I intend to do more by doing less. I intend to serve and not be served. I intend to stand in the gaps where i fit and be a reinforcing echo of your own intentions. I intend to be weightless but felt as support, safety, encouragement, reassurance. I intend to be complimentary and accepting of you as you are, however you are, wherever you are (in mind or spirit or emotion) at any given time.

- pati3ntwo1f (080322)

The thoughts that explode like thunder and crackle down paths of thoroughness as meticulous and effortless and natural as lightning’s dance…

Our heat generates wind in this cold world, thus storms follow… however they are often misunderstood… for what is of nature is of nurture… and our innate nature is to nurture.

And we do… boldly, bravely, beautifully, bountifully…

Brutally…

Not in violence but sacrifice.

Cost is simply a question of what one is willing to give and …

I Give All To and For My Muse;

Thus we breeze and bellow and blow houses down, we mist and sprinkle and rain and pour and flash flood, we warm and bathe and tan and bake and scorch and smolder…

We still and babble and flow and splash and whirl and current and rapid and waterfall…

We speak without words and converse without hearing… we’ve evolved communication to a beyond, and then back to simplicity.

Seeing you was a novel with no title or chapters or page numbers or order - just worlds of words already known, and attachments of “if spoken or not”; welcoming me to unravel - now - what i’ve already know and grown to love…

Hearing you is the life of the imaginative mind, well prompted and eager to delve, connect, betroth, and ascend, … explorative and fanciful, detailed and connotative, genuine and beholding… our amplify, our soundtrack, our praise, our outcry, expression, our honesty, our pleasure…

Inhaling the nostalgia of times felt, but not readily known, the total body calming recognition of your essential bodily oils scent… the riveting, compelling, memorable, convincing, time bending accelerant that is “smells of you”… its welcoming, identity, intoxicating influence on all my other senses, its air - its 2nd to oxygen… its mix-ability, how it blends, transforms, transfixes with mine… how it evolves, elicits, enthralls and enchants as “ode de OURS”…

And Our Touch, our… feel, our gateway, our ascension, our vehicle, transponder, in-tune-ment, enhancement, limiter that we’ve made limitless - taking the most finite, transfixed, selfish of senses… and making it a vessel to the lost infinite, complimentary thus encompassing, selfless of the senses… our literal connection that bridges my energy to yours… and then we… hmmm… light up the sky and more…

Yet and still… tasting you is foreign and distant, reminiscent from your scent and vouched for by your touch and encouraged by the sight of you.. and although hearing falls deaf with pre-influence, it resounds and reverberates to be used as the result of… of my insatiability with tasting all of you…

Betwixt each kiss and lingering with each lick, enough within each suck and… Mmmmmm… sorry. Confidence within my Assurance is now lesser than the Eagerness propelling my Performance… my lightning dance, my natural nurture of you and us, my sacrifice, my smolder, my splash, my spoken or not, my outcry, my mix-ability, my energy to yours… the my in “Us”, the my in “Ours”, the my in “for you”…

And “We” still seem to exceed these enhanced basics, these connected selfishnesses, these overwhelming urges to reconnect and exist as we are… together & beyond

As…

We…

Are!

- Pati3ntWo1f (011122)

It is innate, an unthought action that comes automatically, an impulse with meaning and a goal, an instinct...

To gaze back with the intensities of fear and intrigue and excitement and belonging, to anticipate the risk and its thrill, to be entranced ever so helplessly yet ever so willingly, to respond...

Of the spectacle of sparks continuously reflecting your passioned outlook on me and this world, of being within heats’ range of burning desire’s furnace tempting such cure from my heart’s cold, of the nature that attracts moth to flame i am also beckoned and baited and boisterous, of my own impassioned and sincere convictions...

And yearn to dance within the radiance of your cinders and ambers, and tempt fate by how closely i position myself to rest and stoke your fires to flicker as though enraged with enjoyment, and crave the lullaby of your luminance and caress every hue of you with adoration and acceptance, and approach your goddess with agape and adventure and without admonishment.

- Pati3ntWo1f (100220)

Two Moons

A hidden universe with 2 moons and No Sun. Yet they glow. Reflecting the other’s light. Never knowing from which the glow shown first. There was no conception... they ever were and always been. Two moons. Not twins. Complimentary. Two moons... and deep seas, colored the shades of earth’s sky at sunset. Here tides move differently. The swells are emotional. The ever starry skies are a daily devotional to the countless beauties they create out of any moment. These two moons. Revolving around each-other, their gravity is felt like magnetism, a tingling in the air. They almost seem to stare... endlessly delighted with the other, yearning for the other. Its sensual the way they eclipse, seamlessly one. The universe is electric. And they are... Mmmmm... inspiring.

-Pati3ntWo1f

That’s the goal. Once achieved... one’s practice in “mastering the art of living” becomes effortless; additionally, one becomes capable of enjoying the pinnacles of each emotion - or idea - as intended.

I complete me.

A Poet’s Chance - 1am & 3 Hour Drive (10.25.20)

The second verse AND how he sings it... and how it feels while i listen to it rn (after watching a 25min doc how this song was made - Netflix) and after that feeling, that all-ness in my chest we all call our heart (the idea)...

and the sensation like drinking ice cold water after having a peppermint... or breathing in freezing air while not dressed for the weather and its like with each breath you can feel your entire respiratory system... but, place that feeling in your heart (the idea) and feeling the gap, the hole in the all-ness... and feeling it whistle as your breathing cadence slows and deepens and swells as you sense it... the missing…

Its space

Its empty volume

And the phantom feelings faintly teasing, haunting, ghosts of what was... what I used to be able to and did feel

... the thoughts ... they echo like questions ... with no response, just these feelings, imaginings, swells and hollow whistles…

And the song repeats, again

I’ve lost track of how many times, because I set it, intentionally to repeat... and trap me here…

Because I felt it... i feel it... and morbidly am too excited to feel the

All-ness of my heart (the idea) again... that i am sorrowfully enjoying

The cold air exposing the hole, the missing, the empty space of me.

-Pati3ntWo1f (102520)