You reintroduced this term to me, used it often and found great assurance in your understanding of it. I developed further recognization of it, found disdain for the idea of it and began to further practise decisions on it. I claimed myself to be a rather high individual carrying the deep lows in life in general.
Somehow out of despair, rises the sweet heaviness of beautiful relief. Is the ebb and flow what we feel – our reactions to occurrences outside our control? Or the reality of nature and our perceivement of it?
Your ebb has proven to be the tired, disengaged replica of a toothy snail. Your flow, the drunk in your drink. You release such ebb and flow in this manner. If one feels the flow and ebb, but the other does not, does it cancel it’s existence? Does the stillness in the ebb, furnish the room of flow? So much so, the greater the pullback of the ebb, the stronger sense of flow ?
Is it more difficult to be with someone who ebb/flows at stronger tide or who doesn’t? If both ebb/flows are similar, does it produce larger volumes of efficiency? Does life make more sense together or does ones ebb reflect the others flow and such accordingly so, that an elegant balance is discovered? Only to fall out of sync here and there thus, the supply of flow is full and becomes in demand? Will my ebb and flow tell me about who I am? What will the origin reasons mean?
The ebb an flow of lava, surely is not the same as musty plastic pellets or clear, untouched chocolate milk? How much damage does ebb/flow do? How beneficial, how much can we utilize the characteristics of it? Do some people feel they need it more than others? Are they higher risk of uncommmitance, with greater frustrations? Does it take more to satisfy them?
To label life as ebb and flow hardly seems necessary- yet we bring it naturally into our discrepancies to perhaps exhale some of the repercussions. Ebb and flow is each our own natural state of the now. But is it? How far does natural go, when you preempt the ebb/flow just to feel the lack of numbness?
Is this just manipulating the ebb and floofery? I flow so hard, I ebb.
Sometimes your ebb creates the perfect opportunity for my flow. And when I present with that, my flow dissolves your ebb. And I can’t decide if the term ebb and flow is just a way to describe sometimes our weak ability to accept our excuses.
I don’t even know if that’s what this is.
But it sure feels odd.
I went shopping in the mall a few days ago and was thrown off big time. Not just because I didn’t know if I was supposed to fold up the clothes I had tried on or not, but because I realized I didn’t know what my style was anymore. I didn’t know what I wanted it to be.
I hadn’t shopped for winter clothing in years.
Skinny jeans are almost the only jeans people wear? And jeggings? What ARE those.
I didn’t use to be shy with employees. I would ask them easily, if they had this shirt in this size
I try and do it myself and when they confront me, I’ll even steer away from that.
Free Wifi at Tim Hortons? REALLY?
I’m used to paying for it.
I got pretty overwhelmed a few days. I’m not prepared for people and there questions. It is why I have only seen three friends in the week I have been back here. But the English is alot, it is fast and I listen but my words are still tangled and lost.
I had a good conversation with my Mom the other night and I walked away thinking, ” WOW. Life HAS that in it? Someone to listen like that? Someone to smooth out my thoughts and ideas?’
I’ve really been in my head and been wonderin how the heck do I get all this out. I must eventually get out what I want to do, the changes I want to make. To make it more real.
I am happy though. I know I will settle in. I will get things where I want them.
At least I know that one person I thought that might not want to see me, has seen me.
And we have meshed right back into how we were.
I wonder if I don’t trust love, because of the way I have loved in the past.
I wonder now, when people tell me they love me, if I have a harder time believing it.
I don’t know if I’ve ever believed in love I’ve had for my boyfriends.
Once the relationship was over, I always questioned if what I felt was really love,because of what I was doing. I wonder if I have ever loved outside of my family or best friends.
Everyone has their own idea of love.
But what if it is just as messed up as what mine has turned out to be.
I didn’t ever think I was a good lover because I knew I was not. But I still sailed on the idea that I was capable, just like everyone else.
But recently I have been asking myself, am I able to?
Will I ever love a man as much as he loves me?
Is it because I haven’t found that person, or is it because I have not found the truth inside of me that enables me to.
It’s in my ears as I walk the broken sidewalks, as I step onto streets, as I sit on concrete benches.
It twists everything into a lemon lime sugar flavour. It’s bitter sweet.
For a few different reasons.
I’ve went a long time without it and I see what it does to me. It amplifies every step I take, it makes every strand of hair that blows away from me have purpose. It gives a story to each person I see. It makes me feel.
Any of these feelings can be felt without the power of music. But the intensity is elevated.
Miss rushes in severe enough to make me want to stop the songs.
But I don’t.
If music is listened to a lot, once we take it out of our system, do we feel less towards life?
Does the recognition of how good it was to feel at such a level make us believe we will never be able to feel that way in life without music?
Do we begin to rely on it to make us feel?