Month: June 2017
Gentle breeze in the silent storm
Are you not
in the heat
In simple touch
In gentle care
In rough hands
And soft sighs
Just a fading
In the soft grass
In the soft lines
Of a hope shorn
A soft life
I forget sometimes. I live in my little corporate world. In my little comfortable life. I forget that there are places not too far from me that are closer to the margins. That there are people living closer to the edge. That really. This corporate bullshit is meaningless.
I know better. There is a edge to the world. And I once danced on it. Not because I had to. But because I wanted to. I traded that life. I’d do it again. I’d trade the life I have for the right reasons.
But I need to remember. There are dark places in the world. I’ve seen a few. Caused a few.
This soft life. It’s just not that important. A means to an end.
I’d trade it in a heartbeat for one more chance.
But that old me, he’s gone too. Who I am now will have to be enough.
Song of The Day
Not too revelatory
I noticed this for the first time today. It’s something I knew. But something I just took on faith. That of course that is how I see it. And it’s a pretty simple revelation. If realizing that the thing you thought all along is really the way that you think can be considered revelatory.
So what was it?
Pretty simple. If I am emotionally invested in a person then I just see them. What I mean is this: I notice changes but only so that I can compliment them. I notice changes so that I can cement the image of who they are right now in my heart. But then I discard it. It’s not relevant and on a day to day basis I just see them. If I found them attractive before then I continue to find them attractive. Who they are is the thing I like. Who they are is where my emotional attachment and, as a result, how I perceive them. Why is this just coming to light?
A Acquaintance level 2 and a Friend level 1 both have lost weight recently. Both lost enough to effect their physical appearance. One drastically. But I don’t see it. Or rather it’s not relevant for me to consciencly notice. I saw a side by side comparison of one of them and I thought wow they lost a bunch of weight. But when I see them in person, it doesn’t enter my conscious mind.
So I just don’t see primarily cosmetic differences. I’m happy if they are happy. Who they are hasn’t changed. They are more confident but I always saw them as more than they accepted of themselves. So it’s just good that they are coming to realize that.
I know, it’s odd to see and think like this. What can I say, but that if you are not examining the why’s and how’s of your thinking, then how will you become the self you are trying to be?
Slipping on a well worn coat
I hate feeling this when I should be elated
crushed and confused and possibly hated
so tired of being vulnerable
when all I want is you
I’m the dreamer and the dream
translucent, falling through my self
screaming in chaos, in silence
spinning my fictions for a heart well broken
waiting to hear
Hello depression, where’ve you been?
Sleep deprivation slowly erodes joy and hope until I’m left with nothing but a thin thread of possible tomorrow. Which, in this state, I see for a game of liars poker. The only desire I have is to hold my love in my arms and sleep. But I’m alone and even dreams betray me. Lost amidst the strewn rubble of could have been. Wandering in a maze built from my own false turnings.
Dreams and other false trails
There are people who I have to quash my thoughts about who I will think something like “I wonder where they are? Are they coming to see me? Are they going to tell me something important?” I have to squash that line of thinking because it escalates very quickly. Primarily, because I know exactly what my actions would be.
I feel very much that if they were to commit to an action that puts them in my orbit I would step the rest of the way to them.
But such thoughts are just dream. And letting myself dream those moments, while attractive are self-destructive. Eventually, the dreamer must wake and see that it’s not true.
But those worlds exist somewhere. I suppose I’ll just have to be happy that some alternative version of me is happy.
A day of bright
On a good day, I have less to write about. Because, truly, pain and desire are the potent mixture that fuels my poetry.
But on these days of contentment, I find my mind slipping to the thought of you. Whomever, you may be. Whether I’ve met you or not. Just the thought that these are the times I want to share. The darker times I need. These are the times I want. If the difference is clear.
Today is a day in the sun. A few hours of good. I wish I could share them with you in my arms.