The Height. Of love.

So this is the height. I had been planning all week to write a little something about one of my friends…

But I’m either too busy to write anything, or too tired.

Or just clueless.

That I have to sit down and wrack my brain for something plausible to write does that mean I have nothing to write at all? No, it only means, my mind is jumbled, the way is unclear, and ironically the only way to clear it, is to write.

What should I say? Should I comment on another day passed? On the joy of seeing @fozadoza and her cousin, @tosinsongz for the first time ever? Or on the glee I felt when I ended a phone conversation with the one of the only true buddy and friend I have for now? How I jumped up and down for joy, and then quickly composed myself and continued on with twitting? And how my spirit floats at the thought of seeing her again, after all this time? At the idea of how I have missed her, but in such a fulfilling and peaceful manner, about how much she taught me about myself, and about how grateful I am for her. For simply existing, proving all others wrong.

She is a dear friend, and in this day and age, and time of my life, that says a lot.

It's all up to us in the end. We hold the reigns to the chariot of our destiny. Do we choose love? Or do we hate?

I choose to love, no matter what, no matter who owes me money, or no matter whom I owe money,  something I still have trouble even coming to terms with. How did it become this bad? But I digress, back to loving. But in the meantime let me text that punk and get my mother fucking money.

But yes. Loving. I don't hate. Hate only destroys itself in the end, those who hate are killed by their own hatred, I pity. Things anger to be sure, but I always maintain, I always strive to remember, that my anger does not come from my creator, it is from my own weakness, there is no divinity in my rage, there is nothing pure in uncontrolled animosity, I always remember this one line, that will answer all of my problems in the end.

Control your core. Control the universe.

I will gain control over my inner core, discipline it, so that at the end, I will control all that affects me. I will love all of you, no matter how wrong it seems. Or how perverted. And at the end of the day, hate will not have no hold over me.

And so that's how I see love, it starts bright and fiery at the core, but gently illuminates all around it. Kissing every organism with a touch of light, spreading it's essence, spreading energy, spreading that power.

How empowering it must feel, birthed in the stage of the universe's creation, my core. In a walking miracle's beating heart, it directs so much of our life, how powerful it must feel, controlling such a large portion of the world, it's only foe is hatred, it's only weakness, and in the face of it, it's power becomes weak, the victor and victim.

So in one breath you can say, oh great and powerful love, in the other, you can weep, oh poor wretched perverted love. And so I visit my my ex’s facebook, or pornsite, and see how well shes doing. As a pornstar, just fine.

And so, I still will not hate.

I will still love.

Good Morning bitches.

Thank God It’s Friday.