unconditional living

this would certainly keep me present.

ever have one of those weekends that you just feel like never happened?

like you just went from friday to monday, and everything in between just...pfffft! disappeared? such was this weekend. it was friday evening, and suddenly, it's sunday evening, and i am left wondering what the fuck did i do for 48 hours? do i have anything to show for it?

yes, margrocks. a bigger visa bill.

being present takes such work, doesn't it? i am so not good at it. i'm thinking i should maybe adopt the technique that addicts often do...whenever they start craving a drink, a hit, or in my case, a Mr. Frosty cone with colored sprinkles...they snap a little rubber band on their wrist. this brings them back to the present moment, forces them, i guess, in some small way to inhabit their body. gets them out of their whirling dervish of a noggin.

snap.

look at the sunset, please.

snap.

enjoy that first sip of a cappucino, por favor.

snap.

experience the little (oh, okay...big) pang you feel when everyone you call on a lonely sunday evening - grandmother, father, brother, entire urban family - doesn't answer. sniff. sniff.

because, of course, being in the present moment means being present for the "bad" moments too. ya can't taste what is sweet without knowing what is bitter and all that razzmatazz...

kinda like unconditonal love isn't it?

ya gotta love all of that cute fella that makes your heart pitter patter one moment, and in the next breath makes you want to kill-kill-kill, or that little exorcistic tyke that screams and hollers and spits up gallons of phlegm/milk...ya gotta love her then too.

so...here i go. on this lonely little evening. i start now. unconditional living. join me. please. feel like bliss. feel like shit. just feel it. be here. when i die, i want this on my tombstone:

m.j.t.l.
she lived..."fierce with reality."
- florida maxwell

and if it's in print, it must be true.

snap.