i just wanna know - am i gonna get into heaven?

Chapter 01: the truth of the matter
Chapter 02: reflections on vulnerability

i just wanna know - am i gonna get into heaven any earlier, if i say i played for nothing?

if i played for nothing, and no one, and didn't care.
am i gonna get promoted any faster, if i say, it's just a gig, gimme the money, get me outta here?

and the answer, of course, is no. i'll get to heaven so much faster when i realize - when i believe, when i let myself show it - heaven is right here.

we're all so busy searching for valid reasons, we ignore what our hearts tell us. we think, it can't possibly be that easy. no way it could just be there waiting - free.

this life is free, but it ain't cheap. i'd rather be cheap than unattainable. i'd rather be a luxury many can afford, and desire to.

i'd rather be - i am. i'm miles beyond, if only i'd stop staring at my feet and look at where they've brought me.

letter to read (to write, to open):

i said "i love you" to someone i'd convinced myself hated me. and you know, i'm really not sure he cared, in the sense that he didn't learn much of anything from the interaction. he didn't have to.

benign neutrality. that's all it was. what's your major malfunction? i just figured you were a little weirdo.

maybe i could be willing, i could be convinced, to not care, in that way. to think of myself as just a little weirdo. because it's a lot of energy, to hate someone. obviously. i know because i hate myself.

(here, to note: you know, i didn't think he hated me hated me. i just thought it was more of an "oh, you again.")

(no conscious thought until pressed.)

quite tiring. quite a waste of energy. quite a sad way to live your life.

for a while there i thought those cool (unfazeable, unflappable, unshakeable) (no, no, what's the word-) people with their practiced apathy and detachment were the worst way to be. a pox upon them. whatever.

but now i begin to see the other side of it. i use so much energy being warm-hearted that i haven't any of it left for me. and i still love, i'm still lovely, but i'm not--

well, i'm not sure i'm real. not entirely.

(sure, or real.)

so if i could see myself out and on and through to let myself come grounded, i might become more real. if i grabbed onto reality, and let go of all the things plaguing my imaginary space.

i could love me as others love me - as not that serious, as not that particular, as unconditional in a way that doesn't boast nor plead.

i could be sweet. i could be for freedom. i could be that beautiful bonus i want to be.

(but i've got to learn to love being a little weirdo, first. tough as it is, i've got to learn to love me.)