Monday, May 1, 2017
Why?
Why am I different?
Is it because I'm the third of three? Is it because I do everything I can to be alone as me? Is it because I live in the 21st Century? Or perhaps it's because this western hemisphere has got a tight grip on me. Could it be early childhood trauma? Could it be the soil that I've buried my roots in? Maybe a combination of thorns and petals? Could it be a blender of culture, religion, and psychology? Maybe I'm who I am because of who I am and in that way the answer to the question is found within the question itself..
If you want to hear the stories my brain's been drawing, please tell wake it up and give it a pencil in time. Now that I'm awake the words are asleep (again).
Fading colors feel like forced fiction.
Is it because I'm the third of three? Is it because I do everything I can to be alone as me? Is it because I live in the 21st Century? Or perhaps it's because this western hemisphere has got a tight grip on me. Could it be early childhood trauma? Could it be the soil that I've buried my roots in? Maybe a combination of thorns and petals? Could it be a blender of culture, religion, and psychology? Maybe I'm who I am because of who I am and in that way the answer to the question is found within the question itself..
If you want to hear the stories my brain's been drawing, please tell wake it up and give it a pencil in time. Now that I'm awake the words are asleep (again).
Fading colors feel like forced fiction.
Sunday, April 9, 2017
I hope this isn't all they give you
Is anybody out there? Will somebody listen? It's a song with passion. It's a laugh with a sting. I awake and you're not there. Every time we talk in my mind you're there and though it's like something from a dream, we're living beyond the clouds. You and I have a triangles between us and the strings that tie us together don't let me go any farther than the slack you've built up. I can hold hands and I can read pages between glowing phases but then I just fall asleep again.
On my way here I saw the signs. There were crows, ravens, and the bones of long forgotten felines on the path. The signs and symbols burned holes through my skull and I assumed I could just hold my breath for four years and not fall faint. The cemeteries littered the side of the road where dust and sand made the perfect potion thought to cure all pride and turn a blind eye to every prejudice. When the tumbleweeds and armadillos made way for white-painted suburbs and cul-de-sacs built with stained glass façades, my imagination took ahold of me. Maybe this won't be the death foretold in me.
Why didn't I listen to the signs? Is it because one's eyes can only see the sights? I cannot listen through these sockets in my face impeded by optical intrusions. I saw everything so clearly and I just wanted to start a new adventure so that I could continue my current adventure with new credentials and an increased skill set. Why did I leave the fertile ground for a library? Indeed I do enjoy reading and have had ample chances to fill every nook within my ears, but I'm not sure all of these were meant to be filled. Or perhaps not in this manner or with this substance.
I'll just fall asleep again and if you pass by me you won't even notice. You'll see me laying here like a whispered vapor that's somehow nearby but still feels farther than it is. I'll fall asleep again and you won't know what it's like to be awake with me, but after all you never have.
On my way here I saw the signs. There were crows, ravens, and the bones of long forgotten felines on the path. The signs and symbols burned holes through my skull and I assumed I could just hold my breath for four years and not fall faint. The cemeteries littered the side of the road where dust and sand made the perfect potion thought to cure all pride and turn a blind eye to every prejudice. When the tumbleweeds and armadillos made way for white-painted suburbs and cul-de-sacs built with stained glass façades, my imagination took ahold of me. Maybe this won't be the death foretold in me.
Why didn't I listen to the signs? Is it because one's eyes can only see the sights? I cannot listen through these sockets in my face impeded by optical intrusions. I saw everything so clearly and I just wanted to start a new adventure so that I could continue my current adventure with new credentials and an increased skill set. Why did I leave the fertile ground for a library? Indeed I do enjoy reading and have had ample chances to fill every nook within my ears, but I'm not sure all of these were meant to be filled. Or perhaps not in this manner or with this substance.
I'll just fall asleep again and if you pass by me you won't even notice. You'll see me laying here like a whispered vapor that's somehow nearby but still feels farther than it is. I'll fall asleep again and you won't know what it's like to be awake with me, but after all you never have.
Tuesday, March 28, 2017
Worthiness of the Self
How can it be so true to not be of worth if that's not the case for the rest of us? Of them? Remember what they say, "Hurt people hurt people." If my intent is not to do the opposite, how can I do so without acknowledging my own brokenness and working diligently to repair what is broken? I am highly motivated when I'm outside myself. Perhaps even when I am just outside of my the comfort of my home it works. I can write. I can think clearly without overthinking or at least dwelling on the unnecessary. And maybe today and right now is just one of those times, but who says I ought not to embrace it? Not me, that's for sure. I'm going full on. I'm going straight for it. That's it for now though. Let me remember the rest and perhaps I'll come back to it later..or maybe sooner!
Thursday, March 2, 2017
To No One In Particular
There are things I haven't done yet because I said I'd wait for you. There are places I haven't ventured into because your hand is not there too. Sometimes I fall asleep at night and somehow hope I'll wake up next to you.
I don't know how to tell you this, but you're no one so what does it matter? You are nothing as I am too. We're part of the wispy breeze that goes flows gently (and sometimes rockily) beneath the sun. We're no one, we're nothing, and significantly enough we are rather insignificant. I don't mean to let you down, I'm just trying to be honest. Let's be realistic so that we don't let each other down, or rather if we do we let each other down gently.
Still,
if I wanted to fall asleep in your arms,
would you let me?
I don't know how to tell you this, but you're no one so what does it matter? You are nothing as I am too. We're part of the wispy breeze that goes flows gently (and sometimes rockily) beneath the sun. We're no one, we're nothing, and significantly enough we are rather insignificant. I don't mean to let you down, I'm just trying to be honest. Let's be realistic so that we don't let each other down, or rather if we do we let each other down gently.
Still,
if I wanted to fall asleep in your arms,
would you let me?
Tuesday, February 28, 2017
Gray Hyperbole
Falling asleep in an effort to pull the emergency brake is flawed. The sun doesn't rise any slower. Falling in and out of nothingness is like trying to find one's balance on a cloud. I'm dizzily spinning in and out of something that always evades my grasp. If the world is full of nothing and the shadows just whisper in the dark, where does that leave you and me? Does anyone even hear the whispers above the clouded static that reach beyond the cordless vocals?
Nothing. That's all it is. Don't strain yourself for meaning. Don't reach for something that isn't there. Do not fear that you haven't found anything. It's like trying to reach into a glass of water to grab the strand of ink that is dancing ever gently.
Now the glass is empty and your head hurts for having tried. You can try harder but even with onions there isn't enough emotion to make you cry harder. Still. You'll try. Trust me; as I write this I can sense these things. What may have started out as a gentle nudge from empathic or sentimental synapses is now little more than hyperbolic shades of gray coming up for air.
No one will notice if you put the book down and walk away. You've proved you can read. Now show them that you truly value your time. Step back and enter into what a lived life is. Learn to thrive. Pass by the shadows of a forgotten soul on a page and learn what it means to thrive. Better yet, bypass the learning and just do it. You will learn in the falling. You will succeed in the failing. You will understand in the questioning. Do not let false impressions and imitations of wisdom trick you into believing words are the highest power. Indeed they have strength, something about swords and pens, but if you really believe that then create, practice, make mistakes, live.
There is something out there. Go get lost trying to find it.
Isn't that so much greater than waking up to find you wasted years thinking it would materialize in before you?
Fall with your face on the ground. The taste of the earth will set your feet on the trail, whether it's been traversed before or not is no matter; it's the forward motion pushes you further.
Nothing. That's all it is. Don't strain yourself for meaning. Don't reach for something that isn't there. Do not fear that you haven't found anything. It's like trying to reach into a glass of water to grab the strand of ink that is dancing ever gently.
Now the glass is empty and your head hurts for having tried. You can try harder but even with onions there isn't enough emotion to make you cry harder. Still. You'll try. Trust me; as I write this I can sense these things. What may have started out as a gentle nudge from empathic or sentimental synapses is now little more than hyperbolic shades of gray coming up for air.
No one will notice if you put the book down and walk away. You've proved you can read. Now show them that you truly value your time. Step back and enter into what a lived life is. Learn to thrive. Pass by the shadows of a forgotten soul on a page and learn what it means to thrive. Better yet, bypass the learning and just do it. You will learn in the falling. You will succeed in the failing. You will understand in the questioning. Do not let false impressions and imitations of wisdom trick you into believing words are the highest power. Indeed they have strength, something about swords and pens, but if you really believe that then create, practice, make mistakes, live.
There is something out there. Go get lost trying to find it.
Isn't that so much greater than waking up to find you wasted years thinking it would materialize in before you?
Fall with your face on the ground. The taste of the earth will set your feet on the trail, whether it's been traversed before or not is no matter; it's the forward motion pushes you further.
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