The value of goodwill isn’t merely a sympathy case. Our brutish instincts are always searching to be settled. Becoming a veteran at vibing what is best for you is the basic lesson plan of life. Doing it so much so that you’re attracting positivity as if it’s bait is the key to a hip rapport that allows you to coast through anything your existential expedition may have in store for you. Taking our temperatures to the extent that we’re resonating with the heat versus burning up is the accurate dissection of rigorously defining our individual plus collective rights and wrongs. We often dive into emotions as if our performance depends upon the expert form of an Olympian arch that lands us swimming deeply into the depths of the sea of intensity. If you’ve found your way to reading this, I wanted it as a gift for your brain to invigorate your opportunities for flaunting all the feels that garnish you like gravy.
They spoke of cherry centers,
Losing their inhibitions ~Louis Simpson, Chocolates, from The Owner of the House: New Collected Poems 1940–2001
Aiming for the tingling of that cherry-on-top state of mind invokes the tranquil optics to which an optimistic atmosphere can adhere. There’s something about cherries that rouses my rejoicing in the correctly conscious order. Even simply eyeballing one sets my yummy juices flowing. The sight of a lone cherry strikes me as a fancy quirk or capricious twerk. Was it dropped in haste or meant as waste? Would its lack of a fall have twisted further than its stems around two tongues, landing the lovers enraptured down an apartment hall? You and I, together, we can play the imitation game, as maybe you’re partial to the touches of some sparklers of a different sport. This globe’s a veritable potpourri of options. Name your glitter, gumption, or verdant patch of environmental personality that expands your happy place naturally. Shining stability for sensory sake ranks higher whenever we’re royally catering to our special needs.
So, what gets you off? And by off, I’m referring to on ~ sizzling fiery energy fit to break all your prior exercise or career records, the red-hot halo of being fueled from the squeal of your sweetheart camped in between your nether regions or the same zeal when a devotee to your buffness is massaging every ounce of roughness far from your aura’s reach. It’s the sublime social media post of a treasured memory by my godmother, my sis, or a darling friend I’ve not laid my lookers upon in ages (the person and/or the subject of the share). Their swell supply adding an upgrade to ailments I knew and those that were eluding me out of view. On another hand, your pivot could be powered as clearly as the rosy round of a plump fruit staring up at you from the ground. Flamboyant bragging for all spangles of our betterment is the course I constantly pray that our world will easily take.
Living doesn’t tend to arm one with the necessary precious preparation tools for all the varied instances of reckless results that might plop into one’s periphery. Insert illustration ‘significantly upsetting’ numero uno of my contemporary trajectory: how I used to crave the sun thinking it bore my youth unceasingly. Nowadays, the moon is my safer escort for bikini bouncing gambits or flagrant nudity releases. I’m learning to obey a shadow magick instead. One that asks you to follow the dark before you get back to any light. However, it shouldn’t make smooches any less stunning. Cancer is gonna do that to you. Just as any rigor rears an ugly head, barking at you to blend beauty from the unusual of your leanings. Every microcosm of creation bestows us candy-coated alignment if only we be a glutton of gratefulness.
Occasionally, it’s as uncomplicated as those random fairies who leave a tasty cookies treat of edible awesomeness for the next compliant contestant in the colloquial slaying vivacity’s spirit wager. I came in with healthy hunger DNA functioning. Whether it be for the obvious enthusiasm with food or the collected assortment from sexual flings to stuffed koalas to globetrotting all over nooks that are wholly unknown to this incarnation of me. Yet, walking in new spaces conjures the essence of old soul ‘knowing’. Where I come a bit more alive is from the sheer recognition that I dared venture beyond what normal I’ve been operating within. There seems to be little that’s required aside from presenting myself empathetically buoyant bliss with which I’m scarcely allowed anything but carefree sinking unto.
May your itineraries include all your favored feels.