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I thought I was finally beyond spirituality, at least in an earnest sense.
Since unearthing the grounded historical & cultural roots of Gnosticism - the only belief system that spoke to my core - I have been pretty disillusioned. I was already heading toward that state for a few years now, focusing only on believing that which serves my needs and yields real results, whether the magick is real or imagined. It worked, at least I felt it helped.
My friend is fully immersed in Satanism. A specific occult sinister left-hand path kind of subversiveness. I resonate with it too up to a point but the acolytes are either schizophrenic or drugged or both. My friend is a bit of both. There is a rift between us because I'm too mentally grounded/stable and I haven't taken any drugs beyond a weak solution of psilocybin mushrooms. That's not to say I don't have a history of borderline psychosis. I say borderline because even when I was deeply detached from reality I never fully believed anything to be true. In fact, I can't. I fundamentally can't believe anything, even if it makes sense, even if I resonate with it.
Right now I feel like The World card in Tarot. I have tried pretty much every belief system, every concept and iteration on the scale of spirituality and philosophy and science. Even organised religion and new age and witchcraft. From left to right to center and beyond.
I know now what kind of art I want to create. What subjects are meaningful to me beyond aesthetics. Why I resonate so deeply with "Interview With the Vampire" protagonist. It's bittersweet to admit final defeat, even when I thought I felt so close to the truth, to answers, to spiritual home of sorts. The only thing I genuinely believe in that belongs in this realm and intersects pretty much all belief systems is the paranormal and psychic phenomena. That's because I experienced it first-hand many times and know others who also have both spine-chilling and inspiring stories, regardless of what they believe in. Some people seem to be magnets to the unexplained, or they have some kind of awareness or openness that others do not. I believe it's something we lose as we get older, unless we hang onto whatever it is we lose...

This is all a pretty roundabout way of saying that I have found value, beauty, divinity, purpose and truth in every single faith I have subscribed to over the course of my life. I have also found deception, horror, corruption, stupidity and confusion in these same things. I always felt extremely limited if I followed any one path for a while, which is when I'd see the cracks begin to show.
How can I be like this?
I thought myself lost and confused as time went on. It kind of annoys me when I meet people who are so convinced and steadfast in their spiritual & philosophical beliefs, as if they were born into them and it is intrinsically tied to their very identity. Maybe so.
One thing I know is I am strongly inclined toward the dark. Always have been, always found comfort in the rough, cold, grimy things. Storm over sunshine, night over day, funerals over weddings. The usual. I love it when things and people are raw and intense. When there's no holding back, when there's no shame. I love surrender but I also admire self-discipline when it's led by passion. I adore passion above all.
If there is one thing I know in my experience as a human being is that, as Oscar Wilde said, "to define is to limit" but it's all we do these days. Definition is control, control is power.
I have been flirting with the idea of constructing my own belief system, my own philosophy, based on all the various beliefs I've resonated with in everything I've tried. I've even given it a name, Stigmatism. Inspired by the stigmata and astigmatism. This points to the fact that the basic essence of all existence, but particularly consciousness, is Suffering and Love. The suffering is horrible and terrifying. The love is divine and redemptive. The two coexist not as opposing forces but as two sides of the same coin... Death is beautiful. Life is disturbing. But all life eventually ends and there is comfort in that. And all that is dead may yet return, reincarnate in another form, and in that is anxiety and depression. Nothing ends but everything is in a state of dying.
This is as far as I've gotten with it.

I realise that what really "defines" me as a person, or a pattern I've noticed in myself throughout my life and the reasons why I always feel so constricted and yearn to shake off anything I identify with, is because I am the embodiment of contrasts. Not so much duality - that's boring. I mean finding subversive ways to contrast things where they are not opposed despite appearing contradictory. The ability to hold contrasting views or feelings etc. and believe them both to be equally true or valuable to me personally. We have two hands and two eyes and two hemispheres of the brain. Why can't we hold two things at once? I think that's what being human is. Though I realise many people either cannot be like this, or not are complex in some parts while being limited in others, or it depends. But spirituality is one of those things that I always felt pressured to "choose a path" on, because it's such a deep thing... It affects how you perceive yourself, your life, reality, other people. Where you stand on moral and ethical issues. Maybe even politics.
But I don't like people who cherry-pick. Who haven't done enough self-reflection to realise they're only using faith to justify their own ignorant and stupid views just because someone else with more authority said it or whatever. But that's human too. To form your own beliefs and opinions, that's less common. I don't want to limit myself. I start getting restless and frustrated and annoyed.
I think the psyche of the human species is like a stained glass window shattered into pieces. It's fascinating to me to see how civilizations interpreted reality throughout history into present day. When you dig deeper you start noticing interesting patterns and connections, influences and borrowed ideas from one civilization to another. The role of dragons, snakes, sky gods, moon gods & goddesses, apocalyptic prophecies, underworlds, supernatural beings... Chaos and darkness as the beginning of pretty much every belief system ever invented. The details vary and there's pretty big differences when it comes to the meaning behind it all, the morals and the role of mankind on Earth. I don't know why I was so convinced, so determined, that I could ever find the "true path" in all this noise. Whatever faith is, it's my own. A piece of everything I've ever connected to is coded into my very being and it's all brilliant colour, featuring the most incompatible systems in one human heart.
And yet I've never felt less human or more alien to this world. I am not of this world, though. I've never been. There's things about me that I've denied, that I've been nervous to admit because when one compares oneself to a human from the perspective of "non" there's usually only two ways it can go: being better/above humanity (which is arrogant and cringe to assume) or being less/worse (like a damned freak that shouldn't exist). It's difficult to find that neutral space. Which is why I tried to get into MENSA as well as get myself diagnosed for autism. And while I have above average IQ I'm no genius or savant. I get along well with autistic people and connect with them but I don't experience the world the way they do. Despite myself feeling alien, masking and being quite aware of how strange social norms and language can be, that's about it. If there's a spectrum, I'm on the tail of it. Nah - I'm something else. I'm a little odd. I'm built different but not something you can label. And I don't like the "neurodivergent" word. Like I don't like LGBTQ or "woman" because of how tribalistic it all is, forcing me into a "community" I didn't consent to, like my literal birth, heritage, nationality etc. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean all women and girls are my "sisters" that I will fight for and trust or some other bullshit. You get my drift.
Anyway, yeah. I want to construct my own spirituality. Why, I don't know. Meaning, power, inspiration. Feeling like I'm part of something greater.
Deciding how I want to experience... becoming.

To see. To be seen.

I was always good at seeing. Seeing into someone.
Rarely have I been seen in kind. Seen with the same openness and desire as I wish to see. It was always one-sided.
People who don't know me well, who don't see me, perceive me as a calm and peaceful person, perhaps even a deep thinker. I'm a good listener. I'm accommodating, adaptable, agreeable. But beneath this reflective watery nurturing comfort hides a furnace of passion and complexity. Aggression even as well as childish petulance. I'm moody and changeable. I have phases, I move through most emotions quite quickly. I'm very lunar in that way. But if something happens and I appear emotionally neutral or detached, that's my way of dealing with shit that actually deeply bothers me, and is reflected through subconscious behaviours even though I think I'm fine. I want to pretend that serious issues can't touch me, in an effort to seem strong and cool. Mostly to myself. But the truth comes out sooner or later.

I heard some harsh truths today. About how I don't seek love - I seek validation. I didn't relate to all of it, but most of it I did. To gain the attention and affection of people who are distant, who are difficult to impress, that feels like a victory. A conquest that proves to me I am worthy to be chosen. I earned that affection. I enjoy the chase, the highs and lows. When people tell me about how true love is actually this steady healthy thing, I worry that it sounds boring. But they also tell me that it feels like home.
My concept of home has always been otherworldly and distant. If love is meant to be like coming home, then I would have to be with someone very different from anything I've ever known in my life and in my childhood. And maybe that explains why I had this fascination with Japan and Japanese men in my teens. Alien cultures feel more familiar and comforting to me somehow. I haven't felt that way in a while but I think my idea of home is my best shot at understanding what kind of love - true love - I want to experience in my life. How I imagine stability. How peace and comfort is no longer boring and empty but a welcome escape from the chaos of life. Coming back to a place or a person that actually understands you must be one of life's greatest blessings, particularly for people who don't normally fit in.

"Lost In Translation" by Sofia Coppola is one of my favourite films of all time. I even watched the behind the scenes footage, read interviews, looked through pictures that were taken during productions etc. It is a romance but while it's very subtle it runs deep, and it's humorous too. Two lonely strangers from vastly different backgrounds find comfort in each other in Tokyo. There's an understanding between them that they can't get anywhere else, neither at home nor abroad, but their love for each other can only exist in this sprawling metropolis. There is no future or past, only the moments they shared in that place where all they had was each other. Amongst all the noise of the city and their own lives, they saw what no one else could see. The title of the film has less to do with Japanese customs being lost on Americans and more about the people who can speak our language, who share our background and culture and interests, yet who do not understand us. Or that understanding is incorrect or very basic. And to understand someone - to see them - requires a completely different kind of language and behaviour that is never taught, it's felt. And the things that get in the way of understanding are emotional walls. Fears. Performances we do to impress someone we like and want to get close to. I'm good at seeing and understanding, but it takes a special kind of person to see me without making me shrink. I'm glad I have friends that I have these kinds of connections with but when it comes to romance it's a little trickier. A lot, maybe.
I've only known two men in my life who have made me feel seen. And only with one of these the seeing & understanding was mutual... Though I still kept testing some boundaries, for the most part I felt comfortable and unafraid to speak plainly and truthfully. I flew so close to love, I could almost feel it brushing against my skin like angel feathers. But I know I am not ready and that's why I need to focus on my own self. I need to shift from seeking chaos to seeking peace in my romantic life. If I want the real thing. What does peace look like for me? Peace without total solitude? Peace WITH someone?
Immediately I feel a ghostly warmth in my belly, and I imagine hot coffee steam dancing in the sunbeams of an early morning. For now, that is all I see.

Peace is a foreign country. Therefore, love must be unconventional. Maybe love is being foreigners together, black sheep separated from the rest of the flock. Then I can understand how a home can be created between two people, who are homeless and adrift without each other. I can understand how such a bond can be stable and steady even amidst the chaos. No matter what, you always find your way back. Not because it's an addiction you can't control. But because you're homesick and there's nowhere else you'd rather be. This is foreign to me. Foreign in a way that frightens because I have never seen or known this type of love anywhere. Everyone in my immediate family is miserable, and the ones that aren't, lead lives that are completely uninteresting to me.
However, this is a conscious choice I am making. It's part of my life's mission to defy my past and my family and everything I have ever known, to break cycles and patterns and to sever my life into two halves. Survival|Truth.

As my "boyfriend" is admitting we are incompatible, I find myself going back to square one. I wasn't ready for love, I wanted validation. And now that I no longer need his validation, I can no longer be used for sex. Next, I need to process the absence of male validation as we move our separate ways. I need to tap into the Sinister Feminine.

I'm just tired of being alone, even when I'm with someone... That's what killed the love I had for my boyfriend. I wasn't seen. After all that goddamn effort. I can't understand his feelings for me considering how contradictory and indecisive he often is and how incapable he is of speaking plainly and directly. He says he doesn't know what kind of a relationship he wants. Fuck that. Fuck him.
Understanding should go both ways. I needed an outsider to help me recognise this. To realise what I was missing this whole time.
Maybe even my whole life.
My needs & desires are more complicated than I thought, I can't even write about them yet.

I feel anxious.

Becoming

Home is a foreign country