Reading zen's journal

I'm at yoga tonight, meditating.
I'm not supposed to be watching the girls, but I can't help it.
I feel dirty, but not really because of that.
I feel coarse, and clumbsy, and dirty. I feel ...
I'm not sure how I really feel.

Don't take it so hard;
we've all been there.

But I'm not looking for love, light,
nor forgiveness.
I don't want to give up my hate,
hurt, and self-loathing.
I need to feel this, fully,
move through it.
I don't want any false emotions

I lower my eyes,
focus on the third eye.
My back hurts--the easy pose isn't so.
Legs creak, joints stiff
from sedentary habits.

Don't take it so hard, relax.
Struggling only tightens it up.

I watch the form of the women.
I can't watch them,
can only focus on my misery, and hurt.
I don't want to give up my pain,
it's what makes me,
me,
unique,
in a sea of clones.

I exhale with the class
trying to relax
not take myself so seriously
we've all been there.

Don't take it so hard,
short-circuiting yourself cheats us all.

I can't be present.
Half way through the class, I'm already thinking
of ways to leave.
I've left before I got here.
Am I even here--
I wish I wasn't

I take it hard,
my own failings as a human being
I live in them,
give them a life,
they don't deserve.

Don't take it so hard,
you're not alone

Try as I might,
I can't be alone,
the rhythm, light, love,
beauty of the class,
won't let me go.

Inhale,
hold it,
root lock,
focus on the third eye
the universe will find its way
to work itself out.
You just need to trust
surrender
don't beat-up yourself
trust,
surrender
let it go.

Once Fred Neitszche declared God is Dead, f*ck became the most important word in the English languag

*Hugs*

*insert something profound/witty/humorous here*