It Was The Heat Of The Moment

It Was The Heat Of The Moment

Sometimes language takes time to develop in order to describe or understand things. All the words you need are there but you haven't created a coherent sentence to understand or describe what's on your mind. If I read a book by an author and they bring up ideas I've had but haven't made coherent, I usually find more work by that author in order to create more language for my thoughts. I imagine we would have similar interests and they would help my language evolve. I'm still working on how to describe the color blue to a blind person. This is another one of my goals. If I can figure out blue, I can figure out all the colors. If I can figure out all the colors there will be no limit to my language.

Sometimes you know something, but you don't word it. You're aware of situations or behaviors existing. You see it, it makes sense, and you accept it. You don't waste time defining it because you understand, and that's enough. Yesterday for whatever reason I had a thought. A thought I have always been aware of but never defined. Yet, once I defined it, it wowed me and opened my mind to choice and desire.

Happiness has been a constant for me recently. For me happiness involves an equilibrium of my body and its functions. Heart rate is rested, breathing is relaxed, and blood flow is minimal but enough to keep me alive. I love it. But it's kind of boring.

Hear me out.

Sometimes people do things and I get pissed off. I think of scenarios of having a discussion with them and proving my point. Maybe I'll yell (I don't like to yell). I'll hit zingers and they'll stumble on their words and I'll say "Ya know what? I don't really care." And that will be that. When I imagine this, my heart races a little, my breathing becomes shallow, and I have to take a deep breath to come back to the present moment. But I felt something. Something I haven't felt in a while from my constant state of happiness. I felt alive.

Now granted this is not my life and this is not how I want to base my life. But feelings of rage or confrontation where you feel victorious make you feel alive. As I stated before, when you're constantly happy there's no change in anything. It's just this constant lull for a lack of better words. It's a positive lull, but its a lull nonetheless. But when you're upset and your blood is flowing, you feel everything. Your chest sticks out, your heart rate increases, and your blood vessels are bulging. You feel it and you love it. There's blood rushing to your brain and you're thinking and you're raging and you're processing and you're remembering things in the past.

Blood is the oil and our body is the machine. We're on overdrive and our oil supply is increasing to meet the demand. The friction is building.

Maybe you're verbally raging, maybe it's physical, maybe it's still mental. But it's sexy. Heat is sexy. That's what's going on. There's heat being produced all throughout your body and you love it but you're not psychologically aware that you do.

You see, being alive is not the same as feeling alive. I wake up and I'm alive. And that's great.

Thank you Universe.

Early mornings I tend to go to the beach to run, workout, and meditate. And I'm still just alive. When I hit that shore and the sun hits my skin and I ingest that first pure aroma of ocean air, the nerve receptors on my skin and my olfactory system send signals to my brain and a sensation comes over my body and I feel alive. When I walk to work in the sun and I see other people, cars, and buildings, I'm simply aware I'm alive. That's not interesting really, even though it's important.

When you walk in the rain without an umbrella and the raindrops touch your skin and the water molecules disrupt your breathing pattern, and you gasp a little bit deeper for air and you have to readjust and you take that initial breath, and that initial breath combines with the raindrops exploding on your skin, you feel alive.

It's Hot (Some Like It Hot)

A great example of our desire for heat and to feel alive is relationships. I know countless people who get into relationships full of drama. They love the yelling, the arguing, the ignoring, the confrontation, and the spying. The make-up sex. Ooh the make-up sex. 

The heat.

Your blood boils, your mind wanders and creates scenarios, and you wonder and you wait for her/him to get home. Then you let em have it—all your bottled up rage, insecurities, frustrations, concerns, and fears! Sometimes you breakdown and cry. Sometimes you're right. Sometimes you're wrong. But you love it regardless. They're yelling back, and you both shake each other. And if you're a woman you push him a little bit and then you bang on his chest with your fists like in the movies. Then he grabs your wrists to calm you down. 

Two hot sticks rubbing together.

Igniting.

Creating fire.

But you're done this time. You walk off. You don't need this anymore.

Your heart is still racing. Your body may be shaking. Your mind may still be racing. Still feeling alive. You made each other feel that. Days pass and you reconcile.

People fight. It happens. But not everyone can make you feel alive. I'm one of those make you feel alive people—rarely.

See, I don't like to argue. Out of all the women I've dated I can count on one hand how many times I've argued with any of them. What the fuck are we arguing about? Let's be civilized here.

I compare my relationships with my exes to other males I know who love to argue and love drama. Guess who has a less than 25% friendship rating with ex-girlfriends. This guy. And frankly I don't care, but it's interesting. I delve into it deeper and I make connections. When things got rough, I didn't make these women feel alive, and from their point-of-view, it seemed like I didn't care because I was too relaxed (I've heard this constantly).

You see this shit?

I remember one of my exes and I were heading back to Brooklyn from Long Island. We were coming from a barbecue that she was invited to and unfortunately this was a time when I was the older version of myself—a space cadet, who was constantly in his head zoning out. So the whole day was a weird experience and we were kind of upset at each other for no real reason. Granted we had other built up tension. We weren't talking much on the ride back. We were just two people alive in a car.

I was unemployed and broke at the time. As I drove down the  L.I.E. she told me I didn't have to drop her off at her house, she'd take the bus because she knew my money was tight. That's the type of women you would love! But me being me (the type of man you would love!), I didn't care if I had a penny to my name, I would never drop my lady off at the bus to benefit myself.

So she's like "Fine, you know what I'll give you gas money for dropping me off." I didn't say anything to her because we both knew I wasn't going to accept her money. She brought it up again and I replied, "Yo, I'm not taking money from you for gas." She replied "Good, because I didn't have any money anyway."

I flipped the fuck out.

We're in the car, I'm doing 100 mph on the interstate and we're just at each others throat. I'm just like "Why'd you lie then?" Just on repeat. Laughing and enraged because it was just silly to me. I'm petty about people who lie. So petty.

Back and forth we went.

So we stopped arguing after awhile. The flame got as bright as it could and began to dissipate. I grabbed the steering wheel with my left and I grabbed her thigh with my right hand. She placed her left hand over my hand that was grabbing her thigh. And that was that. We made each other feel alive again. The day we just had that was mediocre just became amazing and we had an amazing ride back to her place. 

It's silly that we need that. Yes, everyone doesn't, but we need to feel alive sometimes. I rather the rage and the boiling of my blood than heroin, crack, self-mutilation, or any other drug or act that causes direct harm to my body. The rage I can channel. The rage is temporary.

What would life be like if you felt alive every second? It would end up being a lull. Now we're back to square one.

Forgive Yourself

Forgive Yourself

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