103: Poetry

The Psychologist Chair: Written in 2016

I am going to free associate…

This chair I am in, it pronounces who I am, from the set mark of my bottom and its sunken plush,

I wonder…are you accepting my space?

To the arm rest that has folded an understood my form and build.. are you accepting my space?

I believe the chair has chosen me or my conscious unconsciously choose the chair to be me.

I dream of chairs that will accept me,

wait… I dream of chairs that will challenge me… that will develop me.

But to understand this dream is whole battle, I cannot do it.

Flowing viciously through my mind I have so much darkness, meditating as to what will be, what will come, the invevitable questions of why…

so does that mean I must transform my chair?

I like my chair

How must I understand the night fall if I have fallen deeply myself?

I am just aware that the chair I once knew has become jagged and structured, the divots of space pull me in, I feel like the chair is suffocating.

The Jung in me has understood the indispensable passion of firing through my own dark.

Well…the darkness in me is not because of me, HA I guess its my mom’s fault.. or my dad’s!

But you can strive to change! Wait, that one thought has possible deformed my night.

All of a sudden I question if my thought of deformity has actually been surpressed by past encounters… has my life been structured by the here and now… or the past and then?

My inner turmoil has been disguised by repressing, allow those memories to cause you pain,

open those wounds, become plagued.

God, someone push me off this damn couch!

Complex psychosis has planted and originated, I need a new fucking couch. Open your eyes and be present in this dream.

The sun has risen and the brightness is a little overbearing, where did it come from?

The acceptance has become domineering.

Slow down, lay back… and just…relax. This is what you wanted right?

Allow the sunset to arrive, its wonder and marvel, perfect just the way it is.

Your control has passed, just watch…

Ahhh, how good it feel to express the unexpressed, the ugliness has such a beautiful message

Do you realize that all of this is you? Inside of you…

So you’ve got this fortitude, unravel the revelation


Exposures lies within, your thinking lies inside the mind of wandering worries, your mind is beautiful do you believe it?


I believe there are no mistakes… just accept it. I am flat and sturdy, grounded and present.

Remember that as is, is as is.

I need more than just safe. I want to know; I want to know… I want to know me. ME.

Are you listening?

I said… are you listening?

Do you hear me or …. do you hear me?

Understand this…listening is special, hear yourself and allow that beautiful mind to become one with you.

That potent force will be the advocate for change.

I yearn to BECOME, I want to know, I want to accept.

The transformation is occurring I am moving to my new couch; I no longer belong to them.

Facade-ing around pseudo remarks on my being has become so tiresome

I am me because I am

The me has gotten up and sat down on the couch of the good life, I will live and overcome.

My darkness will allow me to simply be, I will find the me I was meant to truly be.

Rodgers did say it is an awful risky thing to live.

But my meaning of living is based on my senses. I will add a purpose to this jaded life.

And trust… the revealing is soon to come

No psychologist can read me better than I

Its been me all along reading, a long listening, a long free associating, a long living…

Sitting in the couch of me.

With Intention,