Ever seen them? I have. Usually they appear in the shape of six packs stripping in my bedroom at night. Just don’t seem to be able to focus on anything else when they are rattling about with their chains… Just kidding…
There is a brilliant ghost story by Oscar Wilde, which tells the story of a ghost that seizes to have a scary effect on people when…well, the people in the castle just see…straight through him and call his bluff. What’s there to be scared of? Rattling noises? They think he’s being naughty, rather than frightening, and simply tell him to stop it. It’s an amusing story, as are most of Wilde’s stories. It’s also a very true story – you gotta face your ghosts and tell them to stop rattling about, because otherwise – they will haunt you. See through their bluff. They aren’t real unless you want them to be…as with anything else in this life.
I’ve always been one for moving cities. I have taken comfort in the thought that if things go tits up, you can always move. Moving gives you a fresh start. There is nothing in a new place to remind you of your old life. There are new experiences waiting instead. It’s really rather nice as no one has any idea of who you are, you can live free of others’ assumptions for a while. It gives you a chance to change. Then, if you wish, you can go back to where you lived before and be the person you now are and people are more ready to accept it as you have been away for some time. They are not trying to chain you down as much as earlier to being your past. The past itself has faded, so you may also be more ready to accept the memories as they no longer chain you.
The thing is though folks, if you haven’t truly made a change, your ghosts will follow you from city to city. The same events will, as if by magic, occur over and over again. It hit me the other day, or was it today? I had a thought that, well, soon I’m leaving anyway, so I won’t have to deal with xyz anymore. Then a lightbulb went on. I didn’t want to move. I wanted to stay and face the music, because unless I do that, it will keep happening. So, I’m now dealing with people who remind me of my step-mom. Full on. I’m gonna resolve this shit. (Usually all that’s needed is: they behave like this, I respond like that. Is that necessary? No. Are my thoughts about it real? No. Is this therefore an issue? No.)
The thing with constantly moving, or planning to move, is that you don’t force yourself to make the most of something. It’s the blog post from yesterday – you have to make a decision and play full out. Leave an exit route and your mind will take it. To me, nothing was ever that important, because I could always move. I also found it hard to embrace one place, because I know so many other places that I love. So my focus was all over the fucking place. Wherever I am it’s my world and I have to start living in it, or I’ll always be filled with unmet desires that…haunt me.
It’s been the same with men. I find it hard to embrace one guy entirely, having a memory bank of different guys that I once also was in love with. They are but ghosts though. And so are tempting strangers. Reality is whomever is on your…uh, bed? Lol.
For the first time in my life I feel relief in knowing I am staying. Wherever I am is The Place, whomever I’m with is The One. Total surrender gives total freedom. It opens doors you never knew existed. People think it will hurt you, but that’s absolute BS. If tomorrow you realize there’s a bigger goldmine, won’t you move your ass over there? Thought so. So why fear digging in the one by your feet to see if you hit gold? Fear of not hitting it? Well, if you never dig, you will never know. You will however know all the fucking obstacles in the world to why you shouldn’t dig. I can tell you every reason there is why not to live in London. That’s not why I’m here though. I’m here to dig out the gold and face the ghosts. As I can see straight through them…what’s there to care about? I prefer my six packs sizzling hot and I don’t like sticking my hands through them…I like the whole skin to skin contact you know…