Between Sense and Worth
Wherein it's never earned...
Between Sense and Worth
🎶 All This Time (Pick-Me-Up Song) - Maria Mena
Top Matter
You do NOT deserve to heal. (You don't deserve to eat. You don't deserve to rest.)
Worth is never earned. You can't earn my love. I've never loved you. I likely never will, too. Maybe you are curious. How did these words the hell get sent to you - of all people? You're kind, fragile, a flower, a deep soul, it....
Something's up. There's got to be something up. You know what it is...? (Yes it's showing you discomfort while teaching you payout isn't earned - this discomfort is self-generated.) You are hard on yourself. And now I saying it's true gives you space nothing to live for.
Right? Just...!
That was your fuel. I'm taking away your air.... That is how you do any-healing: you take from yourself; you put it into the world. Except, you know for a fact you've been empty a long time. You aren't taking from yourself. You are taking from somewhere else.
But where might that be
- Let's sit with this question.
- What might be writting...
- What might have come...
- All the way, through all...
- The rest of time to get back,
- Just to be taken, by you?
- That's right, creature: me.
- You've been taking from
- ME
- This whole time. Psycho.
- (It's okay if I say it...)
I'm your body, of course. It's fine if I say it. Didn't know you could give your-self away so much it would end up more-of-it over here, than over there? How am I saying all these things? Because you are doing it on so massive a scale your shadow, it's literally got a whole life of it's own:
Pay In Attention
That you are taking from. Which does "deserve" to eat (your word). Which doesn't need to earn it, but yes: rest sounds great here. Which doesn't deserve to heal, beautiful as it is, due to you tearing it apart as if you take from yourself to pay for any of the things you do: it hasn't earned it. And you're writing checks.
Pay me. This is time theft; This "healing work" you are doing. And I don't want you cash. This is an attention economy. You want to rob from the rich, you start here: pay attention to me: I want to be asked how it's going. I want to write down the answers - I might not write in a language you understand. But I am your body. I never needed you. Ever.
Your Words
- How the hell did you get here?
- Who the fuck sent you here?
- Why did you read all this?
- What was your body thinking?
- When did it get this bad?
- Is your body out of line?
- Is writing in blood really necessary?
- How do I stand being around you?
- How long have I been doing this?
- Can you earn your body's love?