I’ve been saving my poetry for poetry month. I feel like a hoarder. Or Gollum.
If one has a base set of rules, basic operating parameters, from which to live by. Then one has a mental base of operations from which to assail reality. This allows one the mental framework to adapt and change as time passes and circumstances twist. While retaining a core true self that changes as interpretation of the basic rule structure themselves undergo changes.
Changes forced by the ever flowing river of time and the constant desire to be the epitimouse version of the self. To be a person worthy of your stated goals. This adaptability must be tempered with logic and compassion as the ever evolving self can be seen by others as a betrayal of the basis the relationship was founded on.
While working on the inner self it is important to work on one’s relationships to others else one will find oneself alone. Which, while conducive on some levels to seeking, is ultimately dangerous to overall psyche of the human animal. It should further be noted that at some point the influence of others, of outside perspectives, is a necessary component of growth. Without such, your evolution will be halted by a starvation of input.
Emotionally, a opinion from a friend will be given more weight than one of a stranger or acquaintance. If only because of that emotional connection. Therefore these connections become important in later growth stages.
It is easy to become comfortable, to stop growing, stop learning, stop changing. Thus it is important to make the decision early that these changes are necessary for self improvement and as such must be allowed to be explored. One need not incorporate every avenue of realization into one’s core but one should be aware of the option and parameters of doing so.
A heart cries out in pain
The thunder rolls
In resonance, we burn
Look up, you are not alone
I have never been good at formal learning. I want to learn something, not learn to take a test on it. And I want to learn it to a level that it becomes almost instinctual so that I can incorporate that information into a larger view of the world. I am a jack of all trades master of none, not because I am a dilettante, but because the narrow specificity of focus required for mastery necessarily limits the scope of outside information. This, in turn, limits the viability of ideas generated on the small scale because those ideas exist independent of outside structure. But nothing stands on its own, to be useful short or long term, the specific must be tied to something else which connects to the larger fabric. It is here that a generalist shines. At seeing and improvising within the framework of their knowledge.
The word honestly is usually used by someone who is about to lie, or at the least, obfuscate the truth of a situation.
This is a problem for me.
I use honestly, often. In the context I use it in, I mean I’m about to scrape out a piece of my innermost thoughts and share it. Which is diametrically opposed to what it normally means. But what am I to do? Give this long explanation before I say my piece? That seems. inelegant.
I guess I could say, “From my heart” or some such but that sounds weak. The words themselves are soft and present weakness. Whereas the word “honestly” has hard s and t sounds and thus has a emotional weight of authority and strength.
Friday is the start of Poetry Month. I am pledged to 2 poems per day. It will be difficult made, wonderfully, more difficult by my general happiness. Though I may have found my muse, so she will make it a little easier.
I look forward to writing them. I hope you look forward to reading them. If you like one then give it a like on the social media of your choice or on the site. If you feel something when you read it, I invite you to comment.
Thank you for reading, and I hope to see you on Friday.
I had a premonition. I’ll try to follow it.
I would rather be stripped, burned and broken than to ever wear a mask again. The masks may keep us safe but they never keep us sane. Eventually, all walls crumble and the facades we built strangle us. Until we stand naked before the world we are fated to be forsaken.
My name is Anthony. My name is Pelgris. I am Cismale. I am Pansexual. I am a large, dark and intelligent man. I am strong physically and emotionally. I am a blade bared. I am a BDSM master. I am honest. I fear this, this last stripping of pretense. And so it must occur.
The soft breathe of the world abrades my skin
As I stand triumphant before the moon
Shrieks and screams
Eyes watching from deep corners
Her eyes look up in solemn worship of her Sir
I can never leave well enough alone. I always push, always want more than is there to be had. Some of that comes from a deep feeling that every person I truly care for is going to leave me. If they see the part of me they’ll hate, they’ll leave. Or instead, I choose to associate with people who don’t want me, or are taken in some way. Be it their own lives, their relational entanglements, or their mental state. And if, by some miracle, I find someone who likes me, I will push and push for more and more until they have no choice but to walk away or sacrifice their own sanity, which I’ll see and walk away to save them. I don’t know how to stop this. I think I’ve learned, each time and each time I fuck up. Now, the fuck ups are all a little different. But, they are variations on the theme. The happier I am, the more likely I am to self sabotage.
The other part comes from seeing myself as a monster. For the things I’ve done and the things I’m capable of. For who could love a monster, such as I. And if you could, why? Pity? Martyrdom? I won’t have love from either.
At the end of the day, I’m fucked up. And despite how much less fucked up I am now, as compared to when I started this journey, I still have a long road. A long road I fear I’ll never see the end of.