At this time in my life my least favorite thing is being conscious. I mean it; I really hate it. I hate waking up every day. It's the worst, to come out of a dream, even if it's something horrible like being chased by vampires (which was this morning's theme). I can't even describe it.

Last night I was thinking of Rumi, this poem:

"You are in love with me, I shall make you perplexed.

Do not build much,

for I intend to have you in ruins.

If you build two hundred houses in a manner that the bees do; I shall make you as homeless as a fly.

If you are the mount Qaf in stability, I shall make you whirl like a millstone."

Human beings invest so much time and energy into trying to avoid pain. When someone breaks our hearts in some way, we tell stories, create dramas and devise scenarios to convince ourselves that we are right, or we don't hurt as deeply as we do.

I am ruined. It's as plain as that. Why am I trying to convince myself otherwise? There is such relief in just giving up. Let it wash over you, Duck, your heart is broken and you are in ruins. Period.

I don't have to think about rebuilding or that things will be better or any of those thoughts that take me away from the reality of the present situation.

I just need to let myself be in ruins.

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