In death, there is life,
in separation, there is emptiness,
in faith remains uncertainty,
as humans we (can) experience each, all and more;
when the consideration of one of these elements may bring about exhaustion/elation,
it’s no wonder one feels weary time and time again,
perhaps its not to be discouraged but instead to embrace,
each of these things that make up the human race.
Compression in my chest for the last two days,
and I just cant seem to shake…
Heart’s beating abnormally, but I wouldn’t know what a heart attack felt like.
Irrelevant, basically everything and whatever you might ask me the response is always the same,
none, numb.
I feel like I am drowning,
I want to punch someone, break something,
I hate everything!
…do I hate everything?
Normally I say hate is such a strong word, I reason with it and attached it from the soul, instead blaming the action or situation, but never the being…
Today I cant though,
today is different, as it was yesterday and I feel stupid.
I feel guilty.
I want to go home but I am afraid I will be angry,
-with myself, with my inability to stick it through…
my inability to do what everyone else seems to manage just fine,
And then there are tears, where did they come from?
It’s 7 in the morning for fuck sakes and its snowing!
I normally love the snow, I talked about how I wished there would come a blizzard a mere three days ago,
but now here I am cursing the minor flakes that stained the ground on which I fell.
I nearly turned around and went home after only walking a minute away from my front door,
No! But I made it to my office and now I am wishing that I had rather given up…
Dreaming about this evening, drowning away the capacity to even think about all this, not to forget life as such, but just enough to stop being angry, to stop the tears, those thoughts and feelings that accompany them.
What is wrong with me? But it’s ok, this isn’t the first time and I will be fine.
There comes a time in my life,
every now and then;
it has no constant besides its constant ability to reappear,
There came a time in my life,
more than once,
times where I was faced with what many had and may still have found
Crazy…
I found and find myself thinking in these times,
what that even means.
I find myself feeling during these times,
what can only be described as some form of excited fear,
and then…
There are times where these feelings are transformed into doubt and disbelief,
lost…crazy!
Then I find myself thinking it’s crazy how people do what they do,
over and over again…
So I guess there is someone for every one out there thinking, ‘man, you crazy!’
Am I crazy coming up with such absurd realisations!?
Ok, focus now…
There will come a time,
more than one,
Where excited fear and I shall meet,
and people will see it as a crazy feat,
But what can I say besides take a seat;
call me crazy, I’ll dance to your beat.
Those solely moments arising
in times of change;
whether it be up to you or not,
reality shifts and reforms what is and will be;
a haircut, chopping and changing style,
a career path that seems to end so rudely,
even though you were praying for the day to come;
those comforts we grasp onto and detest at the same time…
as we try timeously to analyse the why, what , hows,
circulating as our delighted economy manages to decide for us,
even though its all we never wanted to get caught up in to begin with;
striving for what we believe in, chasing passions until we are faced with the choice of risk and uncertainty,
do I take that leap of faith and change the course of this so-called comfortable path;
am I being reasonable? Irrational? Irresponsible? Who is judging me. STOP.
Detachment seems like a good idea until we attempt to put it into practice and really see just how attached we truly are;
How much energy do we consume holding onto all this stuff?? No wonder we are all exhausted;
Travel light and discover all that you were unable to see from the heaps and piles that you so tightly have clung onto this whole time.
when your idea of something is not your idea at all… that sensation will eventually lose its ‘sense’
Sometimes it feels as though
The ink’s run dry;
Thoughts, ideas escape,
_Inspirations are fake.
Sometimes it tastes as though
The flavours are bland;
No herbs, a lack of salt,
_A dish at fault.
Sometimes it appears as though
There’s nothing to see;
Same old, nothing new,
_Sights be few.
Sometimes it sounds as though
A record is stuck;
Repeating,
_as flat as the ground.
Sometimes it smells as though
Your nose is blocked;
Aroma none, numb and dull,
_A feast of hell.
Maybe this time a change must come;
New choices, new experiences
For all sensations,
_An adventure has begun.
These seemingly distant memories,
Fading as your mind falls slowly…
Deep in the dark, you wish it sounded like a blackened lark,
But it told you something else…
And now you don’t know where you are or what you heard,
And you don’t know what you felt,
And that silly belt you fastened up for a ride.
But it’s no longer fun, you thought you had won last night,
And all you see is white;
Lights bright – hold tight you in for a ride;
Excite, that’s right until it’s not…
And you’re wrong – it’s wrong – Who’s wrong!?!
‘Not me?!’ … ‘mais si,’…
And so what’s it gonna be?
Is something jaded less troubling than something tainted?
There is a limit that my soul can handle,
despite the role which I played to bring about the distance,
Acknowledging the errors, accepting the consequences,
I realise there is still only so much I can take.
And while I respect the time that each person needs may be different,
I don’t believe that the devil should rest upon me until that time is up.
There is a moment where I become jaded in the face of it all,
And an inner dragon rises to devour the source of hatred that taints me,
Not physically, but emotionally.
The fire inside me cannot be put out, it lives tamely within always,
until rejection rears its ugly head, and the dragon decides it shall be dead,
Acceptance subconsciously decided by the fate of what lies within me.
One of the measurements of this thing we call life,
A way in which we make sense of day and night,
or let things break down after a fight.
They say time is a healer,
Time will tell.
The question is ‘what?’ and ‘when?’
If time is a healer, which of the pains will be healed first?
Which cause will get the better of the situation passed?
Healing aside, the final remaining pain, who is to gain?
and who do we blame?
Its never one, but two. Action, reaction;
conscious or not,
inherited or learned;
Who can tell the difference?
What does it even matter?
Is it you, or is it just a phase?
Will it go away eventually or will you simply learn to live with it?
Does it become your hidden dragon, or do you tame it to be free from darkness you wish to harness?
How can others understand what we don’t about ourselves?
Do they, do you, do we?
Who has the final word, are they always right…?
How does anyone know exactly what is out of sight?
Tiny turbulence, the effect of ripples, butterflies:
Is there really nothing or do we choose not to see;
Like a child playing dumb, blinded eyes succeed,
until the truth makes sense and sense come alive;
Momentary lapses, secondary to none, fire reignited.
Faded memories stop to lack luster;
vivid light, contrasting dark moons, shining back in their own way.
Purely flowing, the river tainted her soul;
hearts and hands. heavy, shamed.
Relativity solves the mysteries society tried to create;
where individuality is up for sale, humanity. hail.
And when it first hits, as the initial bite passes along and makes its way into your stomach…
You know its nowhere near the only feeling or emotion you have:
at that exact moment, the moments before and the moments that have yet to arrive…
but they will. You know.
Suddenly there seems to be a lack of place… the spaces inbetween shrink, the air inside and out doesn’t flow quite the same anymore… your breathing… but you’re always made aware as each passing breath takes that much more effort and at the same time loses that much more comfort of which it normally would increase.
You watch as it depletes… and you know and you see how your belly grows…
in a moment you are taken away from it to be brought only to the attention of a seemingly possible question to ask, yet alone to answer.
“why”
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