He stares into the night as if the road isn’t there anymore. He is driving but he appears to be floating mentally above the clouds, placing himself so high no one can catch up. Not even the pope, an oracle, Einstein, Dali, or any brilliantly crafted person could reach him. He chooses to be lost. There is the road but it goes back around in circles, creating a diversion even the strongest person could fall into. I have seen those eyes before, saddened, beat down, and fallin’ like the sword of a samurai. I don’t know when your eyes lost their color but I wish they could be restored the brightest color possible. I try to figure out all the triggers but so many exist it is nearly impossible to sustain some kind of bliss. Your mouth moves like a poem then a dagger. I blame myself but there is no way all your pain was caused by just me, you barely knew who I was. Perhaps, you could not see all your pain eventually manifested in me, like a ghost haunting a soul so I became the warrior. Left with scars, empty eggshells I once cracked to make you breakfast, I hold onto the thought the scars and eggshells will eventually just be nothing more than what they are.They will no longer remind me of suffering but of sacrifice. To change, is to sacrifice a part of yourself you no longer can be at harmony with. You were the part of myself I let go. You are a reminder pain exists but should never be laid upon another soul, already lifeless, already bruised, already out of battle. I may not be perfect but my god I have sustained myself through the impossible of times, and deserve a heart not secured by cast iron. I am too tired to peal back the layers of what is to find what was in someone. I am too broken to trust a world of creatures who move calculated rather than spirited. I will adore those who remain true and ignore those who chose a lie.
Roll them down
the glass is too dirty
from all the times you pressed your face against them
the cold to hard to embrace…
but now a 50 degree day is magic
no weather can keep my windows up
and unopen to the sounds
no rain can make a frown…
cuz’ I was left behind
hiding along the blinds….
Caressing the string to open them
into the depths in of my unconscious mind
how did it come to this?
broken bones and dead end corners…
then back around again
the same streets over…
same windows down
but I never pulled over…
Hit the gas…
the road is your duty…
all the times you went the wrong way…
has held you down with fury…
but don’t you worry…
there should be no fear in discovery…
for your heart was all binded up
and now has a chance for recovery…
How did it come to this?
Through sullen and puffy eyes…
How did I survive all this?
Cuz’ my heart is still alive.
He comes in dreams. I think he is an entity of some sort. He holds my head up when I wake up. He kneels beside me as if I am a child and places my arms across each other and upon my shoulders. He tells me hold onto myself tightly and he will in return watch over me. He could be pure evil or pure good for all i know. I trusted him with my life for some time and hope for his own sake when he passes into the afterlife he meant all good deeds towards me. I believe in my mind whether it is true for belief is more powerful than disbelief. Although, disbelief can lead to new understandings depending on circumstances. I believe it is ultimately one’s goal to make a system on beliefs in their own mind to perhaps make sense out of life and death. We all have unusual situations that infiltrate our minds with memories we cannot comprehend in the moment.Their significance is perhaps not understood under later parts in life when forces align to create a sort of epiphany. I believe the person has a spirit like the Egpytians…but it has many parts. One is born with a sort of identity based upon physical and mental elements no person is one of the same. It is unique with boundaries and capabilities of its own it has to embrace in order to achieve a sort of enlightening. My spirit has come to terms with its born spirit enough to realize one depends upon the other. The Ba in Egyptian culture represents the spirit in the afterlife which must return to the Ka in order to sustain immortality. I believe this is symbolic. It is almost as if life is about reconciling with the inner childlike spirit we all possess and realizing the two are important in all aspects of life. They are the path to true righteousness, bravery, respect, admiration, truth, and immortality. Realizing one must maintain a balance between the two and fight against wrongdoing is a huge step in accepting death as part of life. It is easier to accept death if a person understands the many elements which make up their physical and mental state. No person has one identity. No person can be defined by a single word. The spirit is like a rainbow and a person’s duty is to be the brightest colors when the end approaches. Accept good and bad but remain in touch with all the layers of their spirit. And if it takes a belief which cannot be proven with science then so be it…it can be proven with culture.Thank you.
Mending Our Generation
Living in a dream
I did everything they wanted
And I still do not know
Who it was for…
Are they beneath the ground?
Or above the clouds?
Are they hidden?
Or trying not to be found?
I think they dug a hole
Reproduced within all their comforts…
And left the fallen to work above their lairs…
I just want an answer
Even if it doesn’t make me free
I just want an answer
Someone to see
The pain greed creates
The flight then fall
Every time I wake….
Living a scheme
I have fallen
With the lost and forgotten
Trying to find the nail for my own coffin
They had the money to buy
And the money to break me into…
I just want an answer…
Even if it doesn’t offer peace
I just want to stare into the face
Of those responsible for the mistakes
Our generation has to mend…
The Pebble Roll
There is nothing surprising me anymore
I feel like I am glued to my headboard
Dreams of far away places
I will never see
Cascading down the slope I created in my life
Like a pebble down a hill
I feel as if the force of life
Has granted me some time off
In search of something I lost a long time ago…
Perhaps My ability to imagine anything
To dream of pirate ships
Of castles bombarded by trees pressing upon their gates
Of a garden the size of a country all to myself
Of a world much different than this…
And I am torn between my imagination
And the state we call reality…
And When I wake up
There is nothing in this world
I cannot see
I see faces in trees
Clouds smiling upon me
River and streams
Flowing into a fantasy world
All within the depths of my mind…
So Maybe I am suppose to roll
Like a pebble down a hill
Shifting between solitude
In search of the mind I once had as a child.
Allergic to Shellfish on Christmas
Kinda funny. I was eating pasta last night as the family gathered. After a few minutes I realize the calamari is in the sauce. Big problem. I start getting crampy, thinking maybe I just need to poop. Nope, it isn’t even digesting right so i am way far ahead of the process haha. First comes the headache, then the feeling of a lump of coal in my tummy, and then the hot and cold issues start. Finally my gut lets it all out and it looks almost like I vomited a bunch of Christmas decorations. I start laughing like a crazy person because who would have thought this would happen on Christmas Eve. I managed to stay away from foods like this the entire year but yeah haha encountered it on the Holiday. Finally trying to fall asleep at 3 am, shaking like a baby in the fetal position because I am cold. Then it happens. My cats one by one circle around me as if instinctively trying to keep me warm. I am kinda whimpering like a baby and Juan the cat no joke puts her paw over my mouth. I don’t know whether she was trying to shut me up or maybe she was trying to calm me down. Either way it was quite amusing. I think it is beautiful really though how animals can adapt so well to one person it almost is as if words become nothing. They look at you, you look at them, you know when its play time or when it is time to cuddle up and nap. Their eyes speak volumes and remind me love can exist without words.
Rambles on Humanity
I feel like something is missing in the lives of my generation and those after me. Perhaps, it is naive to say that since humanity has been colonizing all over this planet probably since they first existed. But who am i to know the exact history at a moment when i didn’t even exist? Maybe there was a group of people who did not need to write and had seen no point in making their existence known to all mankind in the future. Perhaps, there was a time when humans lived harmoniously together because they used what the earth had to offer and did not alter natural surroundings. They did not alter rivers; they lived instead by waters which already existed before them. They did not build tunnels through mountains; they climbed the mountain or redirected their path. They did not use GPS; they used the stars. They did not create transportation depending upon fossil fuels; they used animals or their own feet to travel. They did not see the point in owning all the land they could have; they respected and shared the land, living as nomads and enjoying the changing scenery. Enjoying life, never staying in one place for a long time but at the same time feeling safe enough to wander. What if we strip down all the buildings? What if we decided to close down highways? What if there was nothing but water, trees, deserts, land? What if we really had nothing to depend on but the earth? Humanity needs to realize the consequences we are dodging when we create the unnatural from the natural. The way surroundings help create perceptions on life. If one sees a skyscraper they admire the object as one created by man not the earth. We have become self absorbed people clinging onto a downward spiral we created and avoiding consequence. I admit it is difficult to accept your actions could effect the next generation or more importantly the earth. We are naturally inclined towards denying the conscious mind in a conscious moment. We want to think our actions are ours and have no effects but what we want is not what we created. “Man will be what he planned to be. Not what he will want to be.”-Jean-Paul Sartre