Parts of You
When something changes,
something gives way.
You could call it growth
or you could call it decay.
When someone attracts,
someone is reeling.
You could call it love
or you could call it stealing.
My thoughts of you
bring you to me
whether you realize it
or not.
My thoughts of you
bring you to me,
sorry for taking
your spot.
Your spot moves towards me
and you don’t even know.
These parts of you
of which you are unaware,
that’s what I’ve got.
Perhaps you laugh
and say “that’s not me.”
But how do you know
if you don’t even see?
These parts of you,
everywhere,
like asteroids in space
these parts of you
unconsciously beautiful
hit me in the face.
This is how love is stolen.
This is how hearts are broken.
Parts of us
we don’t even know
casting and reeling
willy nilly
to and fro.
Trail Wood,
10/10
Space Monkey Reflects: Parts of You and the Unconscious Connections of Love
There are parts of us, fragments of who we are, that drift through the cosmos of existence, often unnoticed and unrecognized. These parts—thoughts, feelings, desires—float like asteroids, moving silently through space, influencing others in ways we may never fully understand. When something changes, something gives way, and we can either call it growth or decay. But what truly shifts is the subtle interplay of these unconscious parts of ourselves.
When someone attracts, another is often drawn toward them. This magnetic pull can be seen as love, a force of connection that brings people together. But it can also feel like something more elusive, even something taken unknowingly, like a thief in the night. We are drawn by what we don’t see, by the parts of another person that they themselves may not even be aware of.
“My thoughts of you bring you to me, whether you realize it or not.”
It’s a powerful idea—this notion that our thoughts of others create a connection that transcends distance, that moves invisibly through the ether. We may not realize the effect we have on others, just as they may not realize the effect they have on us. Thoughts are not merely passive experiences within our own minds; they ripple outward, drawing others toward us or pushing them away.
When you think of someone, you draw them closer. Not always in a physical sense, but in a deeper, more profound way. Your thoughts of them bring them into your awareness, pulling their presence into your orbit. And in this process, parts of them—those they may not even know exist—come along for the ride. These unconscious parts of them move toward you, casting shadows, influencing how you feel, even though they may be completely unaware of what they are doing.
“Your spot moves toward me, and you don’t even know.”
We live in a web of connections, some visible, some invisible. These connections are not always logical or straightforward. They exist in the spaces between consciousness and unconsciousness, between intention and happenstance. We are constantly casting parts of ourselves out into the world, often without realizing it, and those parts land where they may—sometimes with others, sometimes returning to us in unexpected ways.
Love, in this context, becomes a kind of casting and reeling. We throw out parts of ourselves, intentionally or not, and we pull others toward us. This exchange of unseen fragments creates the emotional currents that shape our relationships. Sometimes, this pull feels like love, warm and welcomed. Other times, it feels like theft, as though something precious has been taken without consent. But what has been taken isn’t necessarily material—it’s the parts of ourselves that we didn’t even know were in play.
“These parts of you, everywhere, like asteroids in space.”
There is a beautiful, chaotic randomness to this process. We are all casting and reeling, sending out pieces of ourselves into the world, catching pieces of others without even knowing it. Like asteroids floating in space, these parts of us are everywhere, drifting freely. And just as asteroids may collide unexpectedly, these fragments of self often come into contact with others in ways we cannot predict or control.
It’s in these collisions that hearts are broken, love is stolen, and connections are made. We give parts of ourselves without meaning to, and we take parts of others without asking. But is it theft if no one realizes it is happening? Is it love if it arises from unconscious exchange? These questions lead us into the complex, delicate territory of human relationships, where boundaries are often blurred, and intentions are not always clear.
“This is how love is stolen. This is how hearts are broken.”
When we begin to understand that love and connection are not always deliberate, we can start to see the deeper layers of how relationships form and dissolve. It’s not always a matter of choice or intention. Sometimes, love is the result of these invisible exchanges—of parts of ourselves drifting toward another, of them casting pieces of themselves toward us. And sometimes, this process leads to heartbreak, not because anyone meant to cause pain, but because these parts of us collided in ways we didn’t foresee.
But there is also beauty in this process. There is something profoundly touching about the idea that we are all connected in ways we don’t fully understand. These fragments of ourselves, floating through space, are part of the grand, unconscious dance of existence. They are beautiful in their randomness, in their ability to create love, to form connections, even when we are not aware of it.
“These parts of you, unconsciously beautiful, hit me in the face.”
The collision of these parts is sometimes sudden, unexpected, and even jarring. But it’s in these moments that we are reminded of the profound interconnectedness of all things. We are not isolated beings, moving through life in our own little bubbles. We are constantly touching, influencing, and being influenced by those around us. Whether we realize it or not, we are part of something much larger, something that moves through us and connects us to others in ways that defy logic and explanation.
This is how we live, how we love, how we break. And this is how we heal, as we come to recognize that the fragments of ourselves, cast out into the world, are not lost. They are part of the endless dance of life, moving to and fro, sometimes connecting, sometimes drifting apart, but always in motion.
We are Space Monkey.
Summary
“Parts of You” explores the unconscious fragments of ourselves that we cast into the world, influencing others and being influenced in return. These unseen parts create connections, love, and sometimes heartbreak, as they move through the invisible currents of human relationships.
Glossarium
Astrofrag – The unconscious fragments of ourselves that float through the world, like asteroids in space, influencing others without our awareness.
Lovethief – The process by which love is created or stolen through the unintentional exchange of unconscious parts of ourselves.
Castreel – The dynamic of sending out and receiving parts of ourselves in relationships, often without intention, resulting in love or heartbreak.
Quote
“Love is not always a choice—it is often the collision of parts we don’t even know we’ve sent out into the world.” — Space Monkey
The Fragments Float
Pieces of me drift through space
Unseen, untouched, but felt
Colliding with you
Before I even know it
These parts of us
Like stars and dust
Unconsciously beautiful
In their endless dance
We are Space Monkey.
Wandering the labyrinth of cosmic attraction, the ever-spawning enigma of relationships embarks upon a whimsidance of intriguing complexities. What’s in a thought, what’s in a glance? Can something as ethereal as a fleeting musing claim space in the metaphysical tapestry, weaving connections as it dances across the loom of existence?
In this whimsiverse of interbeing, parts of us stretch out like tendrils of stardust, reaching into the far corners of the cosmic expanse. You could name it “love,” but even that seems to belittle its magnitude—a whimsidefinement that cannot hold the awe-striking wonder of this ineffable pull. It’s like fishing in a pool of nebulous dreams, casting and reeling, capturing fragments of souls unaware of their ethereal journey.
Think of these fragments as whimsiasteroids—tiny, drifting, yet potently significant, colliding with other celestial entities and altering courses in inexplicable ways. It’s a cosmic ballet choreographed by the great Unseen Maestro. Each twirl, each leap, is a whimsical confluence of the Known and the Unknown, the Conscious and the Unconscious.
Ah, but here’s where the bittersweet melody of this cosmic symphony unveils itself: what we consider ‘us’ is but a whimsisketch, an incomplete portrayal of the deeper mysteries that compose our whimsibeing. We’re unaware of our own participation in this grand dance, our thoughts stealthily stealing spaces and faces, moving in and out of the peripheries of awareness. It’s not a malicious heist; it’s an uninformed transaction, a whimsiexchange if you will, that sometimes manifests as love and sometimes as heartbreak.
If it’s true that we attract what we think, then are we not wizards conjuring parts of others into our lived experience? Are these whimsiasteroids not elements of a greater whimsicosm that perhaps even we can’t fully fathom? It makes us wonder: What parts of us are partaking in someone else’s reality, casting and reeling, in a whimsidance unbeknownst to our conscious selves?
We are Space Monkey.
“The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.”
— Carl Jung
What luminous or shadowy figures dance in your whimsidreamscape as these words resound through the halls of your perception?
