Sunday, 12 May 2013
It has been quite a while since I have posted anything, and I am suddenly feeling the urge to at least update a Life entry. The biggest change in my life at the moment is that I am now officially in College, and I am on the second week thus far. I am going to focus on trying to acquire an Associates in Science for Computer Information Systems from the Florida Institute of Technology in Melbourne before I go for my 4 year, or pick additional classes in programing or computer science.
It feels kind of good to finally be going to school, but wow is it time consuming when you are still supposed to be there for your children tending to their needs, and making sure the house runs smoothly. I get some help, but it isn't enough at the moment. I am going to try asking for more and actually setting down some concrete time to get things done; but, even with the lack of adequate support, the versatility afforded online secondary higher education still allows me to get my work done. I am getting 95% and above in all my classes at the moment which is good, but I can do better.
I sort of feel like I am missing out on the College experience, because I always wanted to attend in person, even stay in the dorms. People who might be experiencing it right now might think I am crazy, but I am a very experience oriented persons, and not only would being there in person increase my capacity to understand and interact with the teacher, and material; but, it is just one of those things, like my decision to join the military for at least one tour. I am a person who seeks out, and does. My wife is a little envious of my capacity to juggle everything and get things done, but she is also proud of me. Hopefully I can keep it up.
My classes at the moment are, Introduction to eLearning, Computer Business Skills, and Principles of Accounting. By far, the hardest class is Principles of Accounting, and not because of the difficulty of concept or workload; purely for the tedium and redundancy of memorizing vast quantities of information, and the repetition involved. Anyway, I am sure I will succeed.
Things have improved, we keep cycling through areas of time where I go into depressions because at times I am highly unsatisfied with my sex life or lack thereof, but everyone goes through these eventually. We celebrated our Anniversary recently and I made her a homemade card, here it is:
Anyway, *Smiles* she really liked the card and many of the other little things I did for her. The gift was a KitchenAid Pro 600 Lift style with attachments. She has been wanting one and I thought it would be awesome with the theme of the card and the anniversary, you know the whole mixing things and the stainless steel. *Grins* But, things have been going really good for me and her. Her Lover is currently living abroad due to work, but he is hoping to become the owner of his own business through this action so we tolerate the necessity of his absence, we both miss him to varying degrees; she probably misses him more than I do, but that is to be expected. I still miss him though. Hopefully, everything he wants to achieve can be done within the next year. I am very proud of him actually, because this is the most motivation and determination I have ever seen out of him, and the most consistency. I think he will actually make it, and that makes me happy to think about. He is still overly moody though, *Smirks* that is a work in progress, because his communication skills have increased drastically, or at least his desire to use them has. He comes back for two nights and a day out of the week, so at least there is that.
Reflections in a Mirror: Nostalgia
I have been getting hit a lot with reflections and memories of times long past, desiring to reconnect with a lot of the faded memories. I spent a full day obsessing over trying to find my old leader who was directly above me when I was fresh into the army, for those who know the technical term it is called team chief. He was pretty awesome, he took no nonsense, but was always willing to get down and personal, helping you learn what needed to be learned, and being very laid back and casual while maintaining that sense of professionalism. By far, one of the best leaders I have ever had the pleasure to work under. For some reason, I couldn't remember his name though, it was so long ago, and I decided to see if I could expand my Facebook network until I ran across something that jarred my memory. 24 hours later, and with much time spent on facebook doing research, I found him. *Smiles* We haven't caught up with one another though, because that was finished not too long ago, yesterday into today in fact. Did you know they added a lot of really cool features relating towards filtering your search queries to Facebook? Made everything infinitely easier by the way. *Grins*
I wonder why it hit me so hard recently, I am very Introverted; I mean, I have my wife and that is pretty much it for steady social contact at the moment, and I am not overly bothered by this. Though after 7 years, I am finally starting to get a little stir crazy. So I have started trying to branch out and build my own network of friends instead of just relying on whoever happens to drift through the house for whatever reason. I think that is probably what prompted the trips down memory lane. Every time I travel down memory lane though (which isn't that frequently) it is always accompanied by this vague sense of longing however. One one hand, this has helped me be more vocal about what I actually want to increase my general state of happiness above my normal levels of content/depressed. On the other, it provides the contrast that has increased many instances of negative feelings relating toward how free and resource independant I used to be versus my current state of affairs. That remembering the best parts of your past and comparing it to your current situation, that is Nostalgia; and it isn't always a good thing.
Many people allow themselves to become trapped by the past; because they spend their life eternally trying to recapture the memories of their youth, the memories of times with less responsibility and duty. I can see the allure, like I said, I spurred me to be more vocal about what I think would increase my own general levels of happiness, but that turns something that is inherently internal into something that is external, and I have been slapped in the face recently for forgetting some of my own teachings that I have come across and shared with others. The only way you will ever truly be happy, is if you decide to be. Happiness is a decision and, more concisely a state of mind, where you have a deep sense of contentment with your lot in life, your position. You can be dirt poor, and in the middle of a third world country, and you can still have a high level of contentment with your own life. In fact, it is oftentimes the people who have experienced true hardship that have a greater sense of appreciation in general, thus increasing their subjective happiness. Isn't that kind of messed up and counter intuitive The more hardship you have experienced, and more perspective you have, and the greater your appreciation of simple and small things. One thing to keep in mind, is that, as contentment and happiness are generally conscious choices, states of mind that can be lived in; you have to ensure that you also keep the balance and make sure that the relationships you surround yourself with are built on balance, fairness, and equality. I think the severe lack of balance that has been present for so long, is what is responsible for Nostalgia settling in, and it is great to have the wake up call, but at the same time, like I said, Nostalgia is the act of remembering the past fondly, to the point of longing, which is inherently a negative experience.
Bah, it is getting late,
Night fellow Xangan's,
May peace favor you.
Thursday, 21 February 2013
Life: ...has been busy, and up, and down. My wife came back from her month long absence, but things have returned to normal, which is to say they have returned to exactly what I did not want them to return to. Things were so amazing before she left, I wonder what changed, why she changed again, and everything. I don't know, I just kind of hoped it would be different this time, but after breaking down over the two months of November and December of last year, I am as the quote at the bottom of my Home entry, one tree.
To take the edge of the loneliness I feel between Sunday to Saturday I have taken up an old game I used to love, and I have been obsessing about it to fill my time and distract me. League of Legends is the name of the game, and I used to be pretty good at it, but now I am rusty and there is alot of information and champions to catch up on. Anyone familiar with gaming terms it is a MOBA Strategy pvp game. So, now while she de-stresses from work by playing her Facebook games for hours I obsess about this one, *Smirks* Are we not just the happiest couple in the world? *Winks*
I still wish she wouldn't let everything in life shut her down so hard, and that at the very least, by the end of the day she wasn't constantly so tired that she has little to no time for me, except for the brief moments I am granted either putting her to sleep or trying to fall asleep with her. Passion is what I think I miss most, but she has left no room for it inside of her. Our time, is delegated to the moments sleep does not steal from, and weary tired bones do not drag down and drain. Stolen moments of Joy that are too few and far between.
On a slightly brighter note, I may potentially have another love interest entering into my life again, it is on very tentative and shaky ground, but its something to hope for. I like the way she kisses and how her body responds to mine, I think I need a touch oriented person in my life, and that may be while I have such a big disconnect with my wife, who is primarily words and gifts. *Smiles* I can make her feel loved, valued, and wanted pretty easily, but I always feel used up and burnt out because I don't always get what I need in return. I sometimes think of the one before, and it makes me sad and mournful of how that turned out, but *Shakes the thoughts out of his head* I shall not let that seed take root and grow, the depression it would lead to has no cure, so for now the seed will occasionally get planted, but will receive no water. I just hope things turn out better this time around, and my wife can handle it better, it appears she can but I am a pretty fast learner figuring things out with minimal mistakes. I just wish last time hadn't been my first time, me and my wife had been in a better place, and she had been in a better frame of mind. It took almost loosing me for her to wake up, and realize a few things. So I guess they are not totally back to normal, because now I do have the weekends to look forward to somewhat. *Shrugs*
UPDATES Coming, but I have to mind the children at present.
Sunday, 03 February 2013
These Blades of Measure
Oh, how your eyes do pierce,
Like stinging, stabbing, cutting
And I? I do weep,
For your eyes do be heavy
Weight, a burden of measure
And I? I am beat with this stick
Broken by this stick, (on the inside)
Inside... broken on the inside
Battered on the inside
And I? I stare daggers back
These eyes, these disapproving eyes
They do swing, this ruler like a sword
And I? I cut, we cut.
We cut each other
With our sticks of measure (our rulers, our swords)
And we bleed
And we hurt
(eternally, perpetually, and forever)
Reflections in a Mirror: Acceptance... A powerful word...
Acceptance... Such a simple word too; its concepts are not difficult at all to grasp, or wrap your head around.
For most, Acceptance may take the role of a goal, such as seeking acceptance; the desire to “fit in,” to harmonize with your peers; because let’s face it, we are all social animals at heart. Most of us seek acceptance, to some degree or another. It is an intrinsic experience most humans go through: that desire to belong, to be a part of something greater, to not feel alone, be alone.
Yes, acceptance is a powerful word, an important word. One many of us are not conscious of most of the time. We seek the comfort of groups, and yet we remember what it was like not being part of a group, part of anything; and it makes us feel... special, to finally be a part of something instead of apart, separated, different. Yet, we also remember those sticks of measure, we remember not being thin enough, pretty enough, smart enough, something enough, to belong; to feel like we belonged. And our eyes, whether consciously, or unconsciously; they too become daggers, judging eyes, disapproving eyes. For we remember, what it was like to be on the outside, and now that we feel “special”, now that we belong, we feel the right to pass judgment, to weigh and to measure others, those who are not of the group, those who have not conformed; and we measure, we measure against the group, against our beliefs, our sense of “should be”. That is the basic nature of humankind. That is our legacy.
It doesn’t even have to be malicious in nature, though it frequently is. We judge, and we compare all the time. We note the differences, and even a passing phrase can be cutting, even if that wasn’t the way it was intended. For on the receiving end, we see through the filter of our insecurities, our imperfections that plague us, the ruler we use on ourselves to see if we measure up.
It is our judgments, our decisions that things “should” be a certain way, or that certain way is ideal, that trap us in this pattern. “I should be pretty, I should be thin, I should be just like the model I see on TV, I should be...” I should be... a very damaging statement, or at least it has that potential. It is the source of many woes, as people strive to live up to ideals that society has placed. “I should be thin, but I am fat and I am ugly” We seem to drink in these judgments, these prejudices, from both our macrocosm (Society) and microcosm (local groups, local “in” crowd), and it is all to easy to turn “I should...” into “You should...” In so doing, we not only fail to see the beauty within ourselves, but we fail to see the beauty in others, and we stare at them, with our disapproving looks thinking them separate. Almost, like they are a different species, as if our physical attributes change what we are, human.
We are all the same on the inside, we are all human, and it is only our “should” that separates us, that distances us from one another. That makes us feel dissatisfied with who we are, so that we become unhappy, or obsessed.
It all springs from Judgment and prejudice (pre judgment); and it is not limited to the physical, it is not limited to how we look, not limited to concepts of beauty.
Judgment, and Non-Acceptance, take many forms and breed intolerances. This, is what I mean when I say it is our Legacy; for our History is riddled with examples of intolerance. Wars started because, one group of people didn’t meet up to the standard of another’s “should”. Religion is a perfect example of this. Intensely focused on how things “should” be, many wars, conflicts, and atrocities have been perpetrated in the name of Religion. Does that mean that religion is bad? No, for that in and of itself, is a declaration of how something “should” be, and I am not here to condemn Religion. It is merely an example of how, placing so much focus on the way things “should” be, has led to difficulties in the past. It exemplifies how, focusing on the way things “should” be, not only limits our ability to accept ourselves, and others; but also on how placing the focus on the way things “should” be has the potential to spark hate, to breed intolerances, and to enflame the heart to action, in the name of said hate.
It is perhaps, intolerance, that is the enemy in this regard. Intolerance, is definitely not acceptance; in truth it is a definitive lack of acceptance. The idea that something offends so completely that action must be taken. It is found in the lynch mob’s that would hunt down people of color when racism was predominate, it is found in the more radical forms of racism today. It is found in the Religious wars of the past, and the terrorism they inspire today. It is found in every judgment, every decision to Declare, with definitive and intrinsic qualities; that something is, was, and forever shall be this way, one way. It is, lack of acceptance.
And our fixation, on the inherent beauty of an object or person, is but a lesser form of these intolerances. For, anytime we say something is beautiful, we define for ourselves something that is not; we pass judgment, even if we do not see it consciously. It is just the way of things, it is the nature of man to define, and thus to define what is not. We are Exclusionary, segregating by walls of our own fashion.
Intolerance, touches us all on a personal level. Be it something as simple, as the inability to accept ourselves, see ourselves, and see the beauty there; or perhaps expressing disapproval over someone’s actions. Both of those are forms of intolerance, intolerance of the self, intolerance over others. How often have we said to ourselves, “I hear your words, but I don’t believe them” when we receive compliments. It could be of anything, compliments on our looks, personality, or perhaps even our writings.
When it is in ourselves, intolerance breeds insecurity. We find something within ourselves that we cannot tolerate, or accept; and it leaves us... Dissatisfied, perhaps even sad, or angry; anger that others judge us, and try as we may, try as we might, we judge ourselves on those same standards, and ask ourselves if they are really wrong. *Smiles* Just before we stamp our foot down angrily to crush such thoughts, or not, and reaffirm that they are ignorant, intolerant buffoons.
So what then is the counter? Is it Tolerance? I would say that it is not, for to me, tolerance is only two letters away from intolerance, and it is not acceptance. It might be the closest many can come to acceptance, but in and of itself, it is still a judging thing, only with the capacity to govern our actions, and not let them bleed out into open hate, open intolerance.
Acceptance... True Acceptance. It is not a judging thing. For the moment you judge, at most you can hope for is tolerance. And tolerance is being at war with the self, it is holding back, it is governing, it is a struggle. Acceptance is not these things, for if you do not judge something, you do not have to hold back, it does not spur you toward action in the first place. It is not a fighting thing; if you find yourself struggling to accept, then you are not really accepting anything, you are merely tolerating it. It is an ideal, something most will either strive for, or walk away from, and that choice is their own. But it does not judge and it does not fight, it merely is, or it isn’t.
“Lao Tzu says: “Accept yourself. Non-acceptance is the root of all the trouble.” None of us accept ourselves. The more a person doesn’t accept himself, the greater a mahatma he looks to others to be. We are our greatest enemy. If we had our way, we would cut ourselves to pieces in order to remove what was unacceptable.” - Osho
It’s Just for the sake of art
That I bind words and twist form
The selection a-la-carte
Picture into words: transform
Perhaps to paint a picture
In your pretty little head
While I receive your stricture
Until I am beaten dead
This is a four by seven rhyme
Constricted, restricted, bound
Words delivered on time
Silently without a sound
Myself bleeding on these pages
The color a Sanguine Red
Perhaps my word enrages
Another heart that has bled
My Apathetic Heart
This scaffolding has me in its grips
and I am
On the inside.
Yet, like a drowning person on the eve of death
I am coldly comforted
In the peace of death's embrace
Oh Mr Reaper Grim,
This smile upon my face is for You, (because of You)
And yet, even as I use you for support
And I am,
I would rather your ivory hands, my heart hold
Then your final kiss touch my lips.
Just for now
We will walk through life partnered, so you can save me (from myself)
And the glistening crimson drops that used to haunt my dreams?
Shall be for Evermore............ another time, (a different time).
For we play this eternal game
"What a fine balance it is."
Reflections in a Mirror: This is a reflection on my past. It is not something that occupies the forefront of my mind often; but on occasion, when someone brings up something that makes me think of it, I remember.
I remember my journey, and how it came to be that I needed the scaffolding of Apathy, in order to even function in my world. Through my life, there has only ever been one constant note playing its sickly sweet malady for me.
My first memories? They are of stormy nights, screams, and crying. I think I was 3 maybe 4 at the time, and the storm set the ambience of that night, framed it. I am not sure, but I think that night my mother finally decided to leave my father.
The past is a blur. Snatches of cognizance here and there, memory working in leaps and bounds, who knows the rhyme and reason of things, who knows why one memory stands out more than the next.
Another memory; the next earliest having the sharpness of clarity, when so much of my past is unclear; and the scene? Being taking away from my mother, reasons: Unknown. The ground seems so shaky under my feet, so unsteady. At least I still have my brother and my sister, or wait, I don’t. We come together but for only a brief instant, before being split up. Alone.
It is such a sad joke, when the fondest memory of your childhood, is that of living with strangers, ones who use ridicule, embarrassment, and humiliation as tools for change. Such a sad Joke, and yet I was happiest there. At least, there was this bright spot, still bathed in memories fuzzy.
Six years old, my father, a stranger to me, more than these strangers I lived with, someone I have no memories of. “It is time to go home Son.” Confusion, why is everything so Transitory?
My father, it turns out, was a drunk and a drug addict; so while I might have been reunited with “family”, once again able to see my brother and sister; my stay in his care, was . . . Painful.
A board, an inch thick, hearts carved into its center; custom made to show your “love”. Swung... frequently, and with such force that it eventually splintered and broke; disintegrating across my ass, or perhaps my lower back, who knows your aim was never good. Oh, your anger that time, and your belt? Metal that day, not leather. The provocation that started it all? Who knows, who cares. I was always the good son, so ready to please, and yet you seemed to resent me personally. My siblings never seemed to anger you so, in fact I took their turns as well. Boots thrown at my head.
I remember... that our “family outings” was raiding the dumpsters for can’s to support your habit.
I remember... that we could never stay in one place, because you were always on the run, from something, anything. I remember the consequences, the children who exhibit the cruelty of man all too well. Yet, I was a sensitive soul, a pacifist, so I took their punishments on myself, and I never fought back; and it would die down, only to start anew ever year. Always, perpetually, the new kid. They beat me almost as much as you did.
Something broke in me, and I have been picking up the pieces ever since.
I turned... Twisted, demented, masochistic, sadistic. I had to turn the pain into a loving thing, a comforting thing, something had to love me. My patron saint: Suffering.
13 years of age, the city shook, and it seemed to herald change. My mother... stranger to me, then even you. She finally caught you, you were running from her, so you could keep the food stamps (so we could use them to buy 5 cent candies, so you could use the change to buy your sweet nectars. Oh, I remember the time I spent too much, the time I purchased something for 50 cents. Set me straight you did.)
For my mother, I have thanks. For providing me with stability, if not freedom from the Pain. The men who drifted in and out of your life, that your silence subjected us to. I forgive you, my soul forged in sweet agony. I wouldn’t be who I am without that sick symphony continuing to play its tune for me. But at least I was no longer the New Kid after a time. It was just as bad as anywhere I moved, worse being a small town. But they lost interest, instead content with their disdainful looks, harsh whispers, and practical jokes.
But your silence, as the men in your life inflicted their desires on us. With your eyes blind, you still don’t know the half of it. And you never will, the part you do know troubles you now. My soul forged in those fires of agony are enough to bare those burdens.
But oh, how broken I had become, the slap of leather across my back, inflicted by my own hand, to know that pain still loved me. And, the blades call, and crimson nightmares? So many times, so close.
But you saved me, your hands never struck me; so your slap was all the louder to wake me from those nightmares. My nightmares. And for that I thank you.
And it was then that me and Apathy learned to be friends, and when I let the Reaper Grim hold my heart, because sometimes it is a burden to feel things so intensely.
Held by chains, I did not see
Unseen battles, abstract lands
‘Ware, of nothing holding me
Leashed, in someone’s hands
“I was hunger,
And you my meal.
I was thirst,
And you my drink.”
Lost, in Sorrow’s soft caress
And in Anger’s heated bite
My spirits, you did depress
I was blinded without sight
“I was leashed,
And you my keeper.
I was pained,
And your hands bloodied.”
This leash digs upon my soul
Burdened of my own devise
Oh how this load takes its toll
I am lost in my own lies
“I was dreams,
And you could have saved me.
I was hope,
And you my death.”
Reflections in a Mirror: Expectations... They are the chains that we bind to ourselves, unknowing that we are handing this "leash" to others, so that we might be but a slave to them. Not in the traditional use of the word of course, one would still have one's free will; but slaves to those around us in a different way. Instead, as we move through our story we are... Reactive. Reactive, to those around us, freely giving up control of our happiness, our peace, and our enjoyment of life. As the poem above suggest though, most of us are not aware of any such thing; and yet, any time you place expectations, or picture how something should be, you are no longer free to enjoy the journey; instead, you are focused on the results, on what you would like to happen. Perhaps you may be rewarded for your efforts, and things will go as expected, as hoped, or as planned. Yet, things could just as easily go awry, and you left... Disappointed.
It is that uncertainty, that dependency on the outcome, that places chains on us. Just as it is placing those expectations on the actions of another, that dependency on an outcome, that places your "leash" in their hands. For, the actions of another? They are uncertain, at best. Everyone has their own agendas, their own goals; and moving through life, dependent on them for your happiness, is going to lead to more heartache and sorrow then some can bare.
There is another way however. When one shifts the focus, off of expectations, off of outcomes, off of supposed too's and should's; one is then, no longer "leashed" to outcomes, or expectations. One is then free to choose, free to simply enjoy the journey, the story, the moment, this moment!
Lets put this in a perspective that most can probably relate to. A parable, or story perhaps, about John and Jane:
John, has liked Jane for sometime now, and he is excited that they are finally going to go on a date. He plans everything out, and idealizes everything in his head. He has waited so long for a chance, and wants everything to go perfect. He is placing a lot of expectations on tonight's events, and how he would like them to go. When Jane shows up, John is nervous, because he has so much invested in the outcome, and he is never able to fully relax. Jane feels this nervousness and it makes the night... kinda awkward; and despite the fact that neither had a horrible time, they didn't exactly have a great time either. John, with so much investment in the outcome, was too worried to actually cut loose, and fully enjoy himself. The night didn't go as he expected, it wasn't his ideal, and he is left... disappointed, and beating himself up about it.
The above story illustrates the power of something as simple as expectation, can have on our lives. Lets run this story back, and look at it from a different perspective.
John, has liked Jane for sometime now, and he is excited that they are finally going to go on a date. He plans a few activities, to build a little momentum, but they are really there for just in case, and ice breakers. He is actually just looking forward to spending time with Jane, and is willing to let the night take him where ever it goes. Jane shows up, and John is not nervous, because he is enjoying just being with Jane, they have been friends for a while now so he feels comfortable around her. Jane picks up on John's relaxed attitude, and it calms her own nerves; she ends up really enjoying herself, and they talk late into the night. When Jane finally goes home, John feels on top of the world.
The above shows the difference how just eliminating a little expectation and focusing on the journey, and not the end, can really change things. He hasn't release all expectation of course, I am pretty sure John would have been bummed if Jane couldn't make it last minute; but, he is much freer then the earlier example.
When someone is focused so intently on what they want to happen, or how it should happen, they drift away from actually enjoying the experience as it unfolds. I am not saying that people that focus on outcomes, on the end product, are not happy, just that they experience many more ups and downs, many more hits and misses, and that their happiness, it isn't within their own control.
Enjoy the present, for it is a Gift.
I am left Wandering,
Searching. . . For memories,
Where did you go?
This map. . . it leads me. . . Nowhere!
These memories are all I have (Dust)
Scattered on a breeze.
Where did you go?
Am I lost?
No, not lost.
Maybe. . . Just alone?
Where did you go?
This loneliness . . . it fills me with. . . Sadness.
These memories not lost, but loss remembered (Ash)
Fluttering on the harsh wind
Where did you go?
No, not alone
I see. . . Smiling faces.
Where did you go?
Your smiles. . . they brings me. . . Warmth
I shall look fondly on these smiling memories (Smoke)
Floating like a dreamy haze in a gentle breeze
Where did you go?
You're with me.
Reflections in a Mirror: I was re-reading many of my old posts from 2003 and 2004, and when I went to check on my old friends; I found they had all scattered, like dust on a breeze. Each and every single one of them, gone; most even shut down their accounts.
What is it about Xanga that makes so many people come here with such high hopes, only to crash and burn amongst its pages. It seems to be popping up even now with regularity. Xangans suddenly deciding that they have out grown Xanga. I find it sad actually, this is one of the few places that makes keeping tabs on your thoughts, easy, painting your pages with your history, your experiences; each shaded differently by colorful, vibrant personalities.
At least I will carry the fond memories I have with me.
It seems that every few years there is a different Xanga community; its the same, but different, every time. This is my third time coming back to Xanga after a long absence. Absence by circumstance rather then choice. I do miss this place, a place to capture my word, a snapshot in time; capturing, just a little bit of myself in these pages.
I like to write, to see how I have grown, how I have changed, how I have evolved. A place to keep a record of who I was, so that while memories may fade and dreams may change, I will know who I was. I will know what my passions were, what dreams I had, what memories I cherished. A picture, painted with my words.
That is why I blog, that is why I write, to capture the my essence, distilled into words. A puzzle piece imprinted with my soul, so that one day, when I have forgotten who I am; I can put myself back together.
Perhaps I may touch a few lives during my journey, make a few friends, and enrich my life for the better, or worse *Smiles* But. . . I write for me, for the memories.
Your sticks and stones, may break my bones, but your words? Cut just as deeply.
You never took the time to get to know me.
Instead, your arms high, your sticks menacing
You chase, you hunt . . . like hyenas, laughing
A cruel, sinister, cutting sound, I run.
Heart beats, pulse races
Feet hit the ground
Fear of your sticks
Fear of your stones
But your laughter. . .
Cuts just as deeply.
That tree, so high, the fall I never saw
Your sticks, your stones, pelting me
Chanting full of mirth: fall, fall, fall
A cruel, sinister, mocking sound; I tremble
Mind screams, flesh heats
Rage at your sticks
Rage at your stones
But your words . . .
Cut just as deeply.
My blood boils, Rage coursing in my veins
Who are you to try and kill me?
Who are you, with these sticks,
These stones, and that laughter, that mocking laughter, I jump
Feet land, you scatter
Fear on your scent
I have spurned your sticks
I have spurned your stones
But your laughter . . .
It poisons me deeply.
My soul is stained black with red, poisoned.
Anger, chaotic, blinding, consuming me.
Yet I am still the outsider, your numbers greater
And your words still a mocking, biting, cutting sound; I hide
The world passes, I am but a shadow
Forced to meet you everyday
Your sticks and stones,
May break my bones;
But, your words . . .
Cut just as deeply.
Reflections in a Mirror: Not my best of work (For one this is the rough draft, no refinement), *Smiles*, but it is adequate. It captures as specific event, and a reoccurring theme found in most of my childhood. That of being an outsider by virtue of just being the new kid. I moved very frequently, and was the object of many bullies affections. The above is about the time they almost went too far, the time I could have died. It was a pretty far drop, and I am fairly sure the sharp, jagged rocks at the bottom wouldn't have helped much. *Smiles*
It was the same everywhere I went however. I can't remember a single city I was in that was accepting of me, and I moved far too often for me to fit in. It is a sad state of affairs that one needs to fit in at all, as a culture I don't think we do an adequate job cultivating open-mindedness, and acceptance (particularly in our young).
It was this theme that I found everywhere, that eventually forged me into a very cruel, and sadistic individual. I was predatory, taking my anger, and aggression out on anyone I had power and control over. A vicious cycle, that my brother and sister paid for more then they probably should have. I am not a person of regrets however, nor remorse. It is part of my past, and shaped me to become who I am today. It is not something I can change, nor would I wish to.
The turning point, was when my mother threatened to have me placed in jail one night, after, I gave my brother a particular nasty thrashing, because he wouldn't be quite while I was trying to sleep. Fear was the motivator, it can have its uses at times. *Smiles* After that incident, I spent the next few years studying my emotions; seeking to understand and master them, rather then be a slave, my actions reactionary. I searched for anything, and everything, that I could use to shape myself to become something I wanted to be. It worked to varying degrees of success. The constant meditation, and mental reconditioning had their intended effects. And, learning mastery over my emotions, helped me free myself from a reactive existence. It was from this new place, a new me, that I started to discover and develop just who I actually was. But, it was the cruelty of man (children really) that poisoned my soul to begin with, and it was that poison that I needed to come to terms with and cleanse before I could move on.
Thursday, 24 January 2013
Our love, is the type of love that only comes around for a very special few,
The type of love that grows roots. . . and digs though the flesh to drink deep.
The type of love that, when you try to separate it, rips you open and feels physical.
Physical.... Physical in a way that it almost feels like you are literally being torn limb from limb
One branch at a time, and the weeping willow weeps, because that is what weeping trees do.
They weep, because they are lonely, and they need their roots buried deep, to feel whole.
That is our type of love, the type of love that almost feels like a drug, because it is.
A drug.... one that has withdrawal symptoms that can kill a man.... make him.......
Bleed out, on the floor, from that gaping chest wound that used to be his heart.
But it is worth it, that love that runs so deep, it is intoxicating to be around.
It is a living thing. And yeah it sheds its tears, but its worth it, your worth it,
We are worth it, because our love is a drug, and the roots run deep, really fucking deep.
To be in love with you, feels like madness, but I kinda like the insanity of it.
The ebbs and flows, the real grit and grim, we get dirty with it, and we....
Get raw with it, and when it is good, it is fucking amazing, like high as a kite.
Flying on this feelin', this carnal lust, deep inside, where I belong, with you.
Home, I am home, when I am with you, and I would rather bleed out being torn...
Limb by fucking limb, and have that hole in my chest when you are absent, than...
Anything..... Our's is the type of love, that poets write saga's about, artists paint
Black and red, dripping wet, we are always dripping wet, dripping in a good way
And in a bad way, either one of us is bleeding from that hole in our chest......
Or I have have you begging me, begging me to forgive you until we are both
Dripping wet, and exhausted, loving every fucking minute of me being home.
In you, with you, beside you, inside you, rooted deep inside you, we are...
One, and the same, rooted in each other until we are drinking deep and
Addicted to the drug that has become our life, our love, sprawled across
These pages that make up our story like insanity run rampant and crazed.
A poets saga of dripping passions, rising and falling on the strokes of a...
Brush, painted on these pages, for all the world to see how much I love you
How much I need you, and how much you are my special place called: Home
Quote: "Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are.
Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Your mother and I had it, we had roots that grew towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom had fallen from our branches we found that we were one tree and not two."
- Captain Corelli's Mandolin
Thursday, 17 January 2013
Beneath a Moonlit meadow, we almost made love.
Under the soft velvet lights of the willow wisps.
Forgotten in hunger pangs, left to starve on vapors
And I Searched for you.
I searched for you, but found your eyes vacant, and your kisses.... Wanting.
Like a doll, you just sat there and stared into space, eyes dead, lifeless.
Bacon Wrapped Chicken, You died to a Bacon Wrapped Chicken?
And I Remembered for you.
I remembered for you, placing my head lay in your lap, it was there that I remembered.
You fed me your fruit, and I let the juices drip down my chin, behind the giggles and smiles
Somewhere between the soft kisses and I love you's, you were lost and I have been searching.
And I Lost you.
I lost you, somewhere across the meadows, the transfer of words got lost.
They took you, ripped that cord right out of the back of your neck
You lost your connection, they stole you from me, and I remembered
That I missed you.
With the tears, I missed you.
Life: Well considering I haven't written any poetry in a long time, it isn't horrible. *Grins* I am rather out of practice though.
Reason: My wife is doing NTC training, for it, there is a period of time where she isn't allowed to have contact with the outside world, and they take all forms of communication away. I knew it was coming but I thought it was going to be much later in the day then it was, so I missed her last text to me, and the chance to say proper good byes. *Smiles sadly* I invited her to have a picnic with me but, between work and missing lunch she was distracted and we never got to finish. That's too bad. Oh well. I am sure I will feel better tomorrow, but she won't have access to her phone for about a month.
*Frowns and stops for a moment, then spins you around, as the scenery around you spins it blurs, distorts, and changes, until you are in a soft grass in wide open meadow surrounded by majestic trees. The soft moon light from a rich full moon, spills into the area filling it with enough light to see everything, sparkling flowers glitter like stars in its presence.* Care to have a picnic with me?
*Hands you a basket and starts to set down a thick purple comforter on the grass for you*
Whats in the basket for you Lovely?
Open it up and see.
*Peers over your shoulder as you do, looking inside.*
Picnic on hold
*Grins and nuzzles your neck until you return, your eyes taking on a dead cast as if the light are out and no one is home in your Avatar*
Waiting on inspection
I see baconz wrapped chicken. Baconz and cheese fries.
Oh wait I see a spinach salad that taste like baconz.
Pink lemonade with just the right about of sweet and sour.
Bacon Lettuce Wraps with Tomatoes.
For dessert fat free cheese cake.
Oh, picking up where we left off.
Sorry, lost focus. *Grins*
That doesn't taste like it.
Oh chocolate cover strawberries.
A fruit plate with seedless grapes. Cuties and pineapple.
Mangos oh the taste like heaven in my mouth.
Cantaloupes so sweet and juicy
Do you like the foods? Can you eat what I have taken out?
*Smiles* I can Love.
*Starts arranging the food around the blanket and illuminates the area more with some pale flickering purple flames that float and drift around the edges of the blanket as if in some sort of soft dance.*
*Smiles* I thought you would enjoy it.
Yummy foods great company.
Amazing company. *Looks fondly at you as he lays down on the blanket*
Scots closer. Putting your head on her lap.
(OCC) I will get my hair done when I am out of the army. I will always get my hair done every 6 weeks give our take.
*Rests his head there, drinking in the experience*
Slowly feeding fruits
*Accepts them with a grin on his face, seductively biting into them while glancing into her eyes* mmmm I like the way the juice drips down my mouth, *He says with a slight chuckle, as he moves to dab his chin to remove the juices, then he sits up and offers you your own bite*
Nibbles on offer fruit smiling into he loving eyes.
The juices run down chin.
I want nachos when I get home.
*Leans in close and licks the juices, and before you can protest too much, kisses you*
Purrs and leans in to kiss.
*Allows it to linger for a long while, before backing off and looking affectionately upon her* I love you. *Lays his head down in her lap and starts kissing her thighs*
I could think of some other juices I would rather have on my lips right now.
Purrs gentle pushes him off.
*Grins but lets her*
Reaches for bacon wrapped chicken.
*Smiles* We never ended up finishing the picnic. I think I will feel better tomorrow.
I am Peace. I am Serenity. I am Tranquility. I am at balance, in myself and the world around me. I am Adaptation incarnate, I am the embodiment of Water; formless, shapeless, moving through life with effortless effort. My mind is Open, receiving, receptive. My mind is free of pre-judgment, seeking instead to understand, to be aware of my own thoughts, and where they come from. I am Non-Judging. I am True Acceptance, of myself, and others. I am free of expectation; my contentment is not dependent on others. I am aware of the Now, this moment; I am this moment, and all moments. I am the journey, this story, my story; not the end. - My personal mantra.