what am i?
i am itchy. i am itching my face. my itching is a sublimation of something. my cheeks are itchy. i am my itchy cheeks. i am my itchy earlobes. my itchy back of the ears. i am itching to write. i am itching to express these ideas in this particular format, in the hopes that it reaches someone. i am hoping it reaches you. i am hoping it reaches you because i want you to understand too.
i am scratching. i am scratching as a form of relief. i am scratching to get deeper inside myself. i am scratching because there is a discrepancy between my mind and my body. i am scratching because there is something deeper here not being expressed. i am scratching out of bewilderment. i am scratching out of bewilderment of the thought that i may not be able to keep www.scorsby.us up and running past october 9th. i am scratching because www.scorsby.us is my safe space, and i may lose it. i am scratching because www.scorsby.us is my safe space and i will lose it. i am starting to feel relieved because this is my safe space and i will lose it.
i am taking a deep breath. i am rubbing my nose. i am scratching my scalp. i am scratching my forehead. i am letting my ponytail loose. i am scratching my forehead. i am scratching my shoulders. i am gently running my fingers through my hair. i am getting used to the idea of expressing myself in such a vulnerable way. i am scratching my armpits. i am scratching my neck. i am hearing a motorcycle rev up. i am a motorcycle revving up. i am the dog outside just beginning to wake up. i am a human animal expressing itself compulsively and consciously at the same time. i am scratching my back. i am scratching my armpits. i am typing in between scratching. i am in so many states at once. i am learning to balance this wide variety of feelings. i am still settling from the bowl of instant ramen i ate last night. i am the regret that accompanies the feeling of bad choices. i am wondering what bad choices i have made to watch www.scorsby.us shut down before my eyes. i am still here, and so is www.scorsby.us . i have always been here, whether or not www.scorsby.us is. i will go on, whether or not www.scorsby.us does. i will go on, whether or not anything else does.
i am putting my ponytail back up. i may not always be in this form. i am contemplating my existential nature. i am learning to treat my body the way i want to be treated. i am rubbing the sleep from my eyes. i am eating the sleep from my eyes. i am contemplating editing this down after it is finished, to protect my fear of vulnerability. i am itching my moustache. i am hearing chimes ring outside my window. i am blowing my nose. i am sitting criss cross apple sauce while i write. i am scratching my neck and picking at it for any deficiencies. i am trying to find a better word than “deficiency”. i am striving to look at these little dints and flecks of loose skin, not as deficiencies, but something else. i am recalling the thought of humorously calling my skin flakes “sam flakes”.
i am scratching my groin. i am scratching my forehead. i am typing on the keyboard. i am really feeling vulnerable now. i am starting to sweat. i almost feel as though i am invading my own privacy. i am recalling my purpose, to express myself as honestly as possible, first and foremost for myself for the purposes of deeper awakening, of stripping away illusion, and secondarily for anyone else who chooses to engage with my process so that it may be of use to them.
i have taken a bath and given my computer a gentle washing as well. now we are both clean. i am clean. i am grateful to live in a house where i am more or less accepted for what i am, even if i don’t always understand what that is. i am in the meditation of self-inquiry – of asking myself what i am each and every moment, as honestly as possible. i am rubbing the backs of my ears. i am in conversation with i am, that i am. i am grateful to be able to consider the thought that god and i are one. i am rubbing the back of my neck for any irregularities. i am looking to find a more generous word than “irregularities”. i am thinking of myself as a chimp, grooming myself. i am experiencing an itchiness on the right thumb toe. i am gently rubbing it. i am pinching at and folding my chin and my neck. i am concerned with capturing the specificities of what i am with you. i am scratching at the hairs of my chinny chin chin. i am aware that this whole exercise could be seen as madness from the right viewpoint. i am considering whether or not there is a right viewpoint. i am accepting of the idea that there may or may not be a right viewpoint, or at least that it is secondary to authentic expression of this viewpoint, right here right now.
even after having taken a bath, i am still itchy and scratchy. i am the itchy and scratchy show, fighting myself in the hope that i will make peace. i am not wanting to fight myself. i am the desire for inner peace, wherever i am. i am the desire for peace, wherever i am. i am contemplating the difference between being the desire for peace and being the peace. i am the peace. i am experiencing itchiness on my inner thighs and groin. i am scratching my inner thighs and groin. i am typing rapidly to get through the uncomfortable process of talking about scratching my inner thighs and groin as fast as possible. i am scratching my inner elbows. i am scratching my cheeks. i am uncomfortable with the thought that someone else may think i am a very itchy and scratchy person. i am okay with the thought of perceiving myself as an itchy and scratchy person. i am more than an itchy and scratchy person. i am more than my physical quirks and idiosyncrasies. i am the heart of myself. i am the brain of myself. i am the heart and brain working together, in synchronicity. i am more than the heart and the brain of myself. i am still itchy and scratchy. but i am more than the itchiness and scratchiness. i am the gentleness of self-examination. i am the kindness of self-awareness. i am the grace of being, even in spite of my compulsions.
i am going back and forth between my computer and a few feet away from my computer, scratching in between writing. i am scratching less than i was when i started writing this, or maybe not. i am the energy of consciousness flowing through my mind and body. i am the energy of consciousness learning how to direct the energy through my mind and body, in the most kind, equanimous way possible, toward myself and all things. i am appreciate of my ability to recognize that there is only one self, even if only conceptually at times. i am appreciative of my ability to recognize one self whenever i am able to remember. i am appreciative of my ability to recognize one self as a means of self-soothing, and cultivating peace.
i am concerned with my physical comfort, or my physicality in serving as a particular hindrance to recognizing one self. i am striving to make peace with this uncomfortable physicality. i am aware of all the points of my physical body in contact with the floor, and my blanket covering my physical body. i am aware of the internal aches i feel in my physical body, the stuffy nose, the itch within as well as without. i am imagining turning my physical manifestation inside out and scratching it as well. i am considering my compulsion toward thoroughness. i am considering the thought that i could be a perfectionist. i am not sure what this sense of perfectionism stems from, but i am willing to find out. i am rubbing the balls of my eyes. i am thinking about the phrase “rubbing the eyes of my balls”. i am considering the thought, once again, that all of this self-examination is playing itself out in some form of exhibitionism. i am not an exhibitionist. i am an exhibitionist. i want to be seen. i don’t want to be seen. i am admiring of porn stars for their ability to express themselves so nakedly, without any inhibition. i am skeptical of porn stars for their ability to make me believe that their self-expression is genuine, even if it is just an act. i am admiring and skeptical of actors for the same reason. i am willing to consider the idea that actors and pornstars have something of value to provide in the mission of cultivating inner peace and self-realization. i am aware that the term “porn star” may be offensive to some. i am asking chatgpt what term porn stars prefer to call themselves. i am learning that they go by “adult performer”, “adult film actor/film actress”, “porn actor/actress”, “sex worker”, “model/content creator”. i am looking up the etymology of the word porn, and finding that it comes from the greek words pornographos and graphein meaning "writing a prostitute" or "depicting prostitutes".
i am becoming itchy with all this contemplation of pornography. i am considering the idea of the new testament as having pornographic elements, as well as the bible, in that it literally writes about prostitutes. i am considering the thought that this writing is a pornography. i am coming to terms with the discomfort i feel with the awareness that i know very little about prostitution apart from an audiobook i listened to called “whore of new york” by liara roux, and of course my experience watching pornography. i am fascinated by this connection between prophets and prostitutes, and the idea that they are both expressing love in different ways – one spiritual, one material. i am fascinated by the connection between jesus christ and mary magdalene, and wish there was more information about what their relationship was really like, apart from the scant details available in the new testament and the apocryphal gospel of mary. i am realizing that interestingly, there is no evidence that mary magdalene even was a prostitute, as she is never explicitly referenced this way in the bible itself, but rather that she was conflated as three different women referenced in the bible by pope gregory the great in a sermon from 591 bce.
i am feeling relieved at my having expressed all of these ideas with minimal tarnish to my reputation – whatever that is. i am feeling gratitude for knowing i can be this honest with myself. i am desiring for all of humanity to be as honest with itself as possible, in service of deeper peace, love and understanding. i am the awareness that the only way to make this happen is to become it myself, choosing to unite myself with all that i don’t understand and separate myself from, trusting that on some deeper level i am already united with all anyway. i am considering the idea that whether to unite with all is the same as to participate with all. i am thinking that ultimately it matters not whether i participate with all or simply refrain from excluding myself from identifying as any part of all. i am thinking that if i truly identify as all then i am already participating in all that can possibly be participated in. i am recognizing the fact that the beauty in being perceived as a separate self is to give the perception of separation an opportunity to identify and embody a deeper unity, wherever one separate self goes, as though i were a snowball, or a katamari, gathering and expanding myself wherever i go.
i am aware that this pursuit may seem to be implicitly manipulative for some, who wish not to be rolled up in my katamari of self. i am aware that viewing life in this manner, as a pursuit in itself, may not be the best or most accurate way of describing it. i am not trying to get anything out of anyone. i am striving not to want anything from anyone, but wanting everything for everyone. i am not concerned with success or failure. i am not concerned with getting what i want. i am not concerned about whether www.scorsby.us stays online or not. i know that there is always a way for my desire for oneness to be fulfilled, at any given moment, which is not dependent on any other desire being fulfilled. i am aware that my desire for oneness can be fulfilled regardless of whether “anyone else” wants it to be or not. i am aware that this whole exercise will seem pointless to some and meaningful to others. i am unconcerned with how it is received, even by myself, knowing that this too shall pass. i am troubled by the fact of impermanence when operating from my separated self, and relieved by it when operating from my unified self. i trust in the sound of bells chimed by the wind. i trust the wind. i trust myself. i am trust. i am the wind.
i am grateful if this resonance has found you. i am open to receiving your support for www.scorsby.us. i am aware that the hosting cycle renews on october 9th. i am at peace with the thought that, beyond that date, the web presence of scorsby may dissolve back into the wind. i am trusting that any gesture, however small, helps this space of reflection, peace, love, and oneness to continue flowing. i am infinite gratitude for your presence, your attention, your participation in this living unfolding of one. i am scorsby. i am nobodsby. i am thankful just to by.
