Rambling Nonsense on a Friday Night

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Sometimes it can feel like you are floating through life; the expectations that others have for you, weighing heavy on your thoughts.  You don’t know where you are going, and maybe only have a faint idea of where you would like to go but that isn’t good enough.  It’s not good enough for the hungry questions they keep asking you.  It’s not enough for the questioning and sometimes disappointed looks in their eyes.  According to them, you never made it and they feel responsible.  They feel responsible for some sick and selfish reason, that honestly has nothing to do with them.

Honesty aside, it possibly does have something to do with them.  If they weren’t always trying to steer you in the “right” direction and their expectations weren’t burning holes into you at night, then maybe you would have had a better idea of what YOU actually want.  Maybe, you might actually already be where you want to be (or maybe it would be easier to realize that you are there already).  It doesn’t matter if you have some big title, fancy house, and/or a wife and three kids.  No, it doesn’t matter if you have all your money organized, and put away into pretty little accounts, so you can go away on weekends.  It doesn’t matter if you fit into this nice little box of what it means to be an adult. None of that matters, unless it truly matters to YOU and you alone.

If you’re happy working odd jobs, travelling the world and living in your car…  being colourful or quiet or weird. If you dropped out of college because it just didn’t feel right… or if you never went at all, because you just couldn’t seem to fathom it, though everyone kept telling you that’s where you ought to be… If you’re happy with how you have chosen to move forward in life, then stop being unhappy because other people think that you should be.

Stop wasting time, waiting for the future that others have planned for you.  Go out there and just be you.  You don’t owe anyone a single thing.  There’s only one person you owe, and that person is yourself.  You owe yourself the motivation to do what is right for you, and the strength to stand by that.  You owe yourself kind words of support and optimism.  You owe yourself the chance to get off of the hamster wheel and to go to where you feel the most yourself.  You don’t really owe yourself much, but it’s worth a lifetime.

Coping With the Loss of Your Written Content

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As many people don’t know, I have been (finally!) working on a new blog post to announce my return to the digital world and talking about where I’ve been hiding these past months.  I was having a really rough time getting the words out and had only written about two hundred within the past four days.  However, today was the day that nearly a thousand of them flooded my screen.  Part I of my return post was complete.  At least for a few short moments it was.  You see, I had thought that I had saved my work when I went to go preview it.  It hadn’t saved properly.  I was in denial when I couldn’t scroll below the two hundred words… that’s when the anger hit and I screamed, nearly throwing my laptop before running out of the room in disbelief and horror.  This is not a normal response from me and I know there are a lot of people who would not fully understand how much of an impact this moment had.  However, I know that somewhere, there are people who totally get it.

It is amazing how much of a difference one second can make to your day and your life.  I had just been smiling with pride moments before, excited about how the format would look finally published.  Then I lost my mind and went to stand in the shower for a while before coming back to search for an article about coping with the loss of written work.  There is no such article that I could find.

I thought that an article like that was sure to exist.  How could it not?  Google is supposed to have all of the answers in’t it?  Actually no, it doesn’t and for the first time in my little life, Google let me down.  I felt so alone, staring at the screen, realizing that maybe it was just me, alone with a blinking text cursor rubbing my fate in my face.

I would like to note that I am still going to rewrite my return post as though this one had never been written and hopefully it can be anywhere near as good as the original… but until then, here are some steps for coping with the loss of your written (or other creative) work.

I. Walk Away and Get Some Air.

II. Do Something Else for a Few Minutes (Hopefully something that makes you feel good… like sex or eating).

III. There Is More Where That Came From.

IV. It Doesn’t Have to be Exactly the Same to be Great.

V. Forget About It and Start Over Fresh.

VI. Rome Wasn’t Built In a Day (And I’m sure they had struggles too).

VII. You Are Not Alone.

VIII. Try Working on a Different Piece and Then Go Back to It.

IX. It’s Not Your Fault (Accidents happen. That’s what life and learning are all about).

X. This Too, Shall Pass.

When You Weren’t Looking

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It seems like there has been a lot of death around me lately.  Usually it’s not something I feel comfortable talking about but it’s been making me feel so much.  I’ve decided that maybe the best way to deal with these feelings is to write.

You hear about people dying in genocides, terrorist attacks, wars of religion etc. and it has become such a common occurrence that that now it no longer phases us.  Not one of us remembers the faces of the dead who bare no names.  Not one of us remembers the names of the of the dead who bare no connection to our world.  We go on like nothing is happening.  We live in a paradise, with our backs to the shadows.

Sometimes death will hit very close to home.  It’s harder to ignore.  Yet I’ve noticed that somehow we are all still withdrawn, even once death has now made itself very real.  Even once death has touched us.  Is it all the death on the news, in the movies, and in our games?  Or is it normal?  Is it normal that no one seems to ache for the loss of precious lives?  Or is it weird to feel such anguish, when you have no connection to the deceased?

I am sure people do feel something when strangers pass but they have just become so skilled at isolating themselves from it.

I know I am not alone in feeling such pain for the dead.  I know I am not alone in feeling such pain for their families.  I know I am not alone in wishing I could fix what was broken… but I feel so empty.  What is the point?  Why are the least deserving taken the earliest?  Who decides their fate?  I am sure that is not the choice they would have made.

Life is so fleeting, so beautiful, and so full of pain.  It is a light in the darkness that you weren’t sure you saw.  It is that taste in your mouth that you can’t seem to place.  Life is time that passed when you weren’t looking and now you can’t remember where you’ve come from.  And in the end, it doesn’t really matter, because it’ll all be gone once you get where you’re going.

I think it’s really disturbing that at one moment, everything could be fine.  Then in a second later, the world flips, and you’re gone; as fast as sparks flying up from the fire.  There is no goodbye, the end comes too fast.

Now here I am by myself, crying for all the people I don’t know and never will.  I am thinking of all the things they’ll never see, all the things they’ll never do, and always wondering why they weren’t supposed to.

Close Your Eyes

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Have you ever simply closed your eyes and just listened to the breeze?  Listened to the whistling of the leaves and that quiet in between?  There really isn’t anything else like it.  It carries you away on a lighthearted symphony that is so soft and so free.  Take a moment and come along with me.

When you’re here, there’s never any rush.  Take your time, and embrace it all.  Look around you, breathe it all in.  This is beauty in its rawest form and you are here to witness it.  Listen to every chirp, every groan, and every creak.  Let every sound, smell, and sight fill you up.  Lay in it and let it hold you.

What you are witnessing is a living, breathing masterpiece; a muse eternal.

I have never felt a love, a joy, or a sense of wonder like this.  Nothing can compare.  I am whole here and there isn’t a worry in the world.

So close your eyes and take a moment. Take it now.  What you’re missing is floating on the wind.

Into the Wild

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My senses are alive with the fragrant aroma and magnificent view.

I am consumed.

I have given myself over to something larger.

Something wild and untouchable.

Something so alive, so powerful.

It is all dancing.  It is singing.

No, she does not dance for you.  Nor does she sing for me.  This is a piece presented for no one and that is the most beautiful thing about it.

 

 

 

 

© All pictures and words are my own.

I Am

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I am procrastination at its finest

Its juiciest and its ripest

I have many dreams and ambitions

Never to unfold

I am the tail end of a story

Never to be told

I am that dream in the night

That easily escapes no matter how hard you fight

So long to such feelings

Give in to believing

In the miracles that live in your mind

The art of relaxing, it is divine

Give in to temptation

Like the warm covers keeping you from facing a nation

I am procrastination at its finest

Its juiciest and its ripest

Just take a bite.

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The Birth of Negativity

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Where does our negativity come from?  Many, like myself, choose to believe that it is caused by other people.  Which, in a certain sense, is slightly true.  The other side of this, which many of us choose to ignore, is that it is our fault that we let it in in the first place.  For me, I have this dreadful habit of never sticking up for myself and standing behind my beliefs.  I don’t have this problem due to uncertainty, just good old fear.  Fear of what comes from telling the truth.  As silly as that is, it is true, and I believe that there are many others out there like me who would rather avoid the confrontation.

This habit of mine is so dreadful, not only because I let others trample over me without a fight, but because this anger slowly builds up inside of me and boils in my blood.  As it boils it runs from hurt, to anger, to hate, and finally to loathing.  And still I say nothing.

I often imagine opening my mouth and letting my feelings poor out, but instead I clench my jaw in fear.  I always regret not saying anything.  Especially since if I had said something, I wouldn’t be lingering on the situation for any longer than needed and then no evil would fester up inside of me.

I am not a negative person but am easily affected by the negativity around me.  I need to stop sitting in silence and taking the negativity others throw at me and speak up for once in my life. I need to stop doing everything for other people and worrying about what they think and just do things for me. It won’t be until then that I find the happiness I am seeking and I know this.

 

How do you battle your negativity?

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A Poem

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There are times

When I can’t write a damn thing

Times when my brain gets as dry as dirt

With less to offer

There are times

When all the special words

Cease to leap from my mouth

And my fingers forget

How to run freely across my keyboard

There are times

Where it feels as though I have lost all thought

Nothing is interesting

It seems I forgot

Forgot about the beauty

Of the words

The beauty of description

And it blowing in the breeze

It seems I have forgotten

How to form a simple sentence

And now it just sounds rotten

There are times

Times like right now

Where I can’t find inspiration

Not in anything at all

But at least there is still nothing

Because I have found

That nothing is as inspiring as hell

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Why?

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Sometimes it’s really hard to not think about the question “why”.  It lingers in the dusty cupboard in the back room of all of our minds. Why?

Why am I here?  Why are you here? Why?  And there are no answers, only the whimsical theories of mysterious men.

Spirituality, I find, is often hard to comprehend.  Why is one spirituality deemed better over another?  Why is spirituality deemed wrong if it is not the same as our own? Why?

Why is my spirituality better?  Why is yours? Why?  And there are no answers, just the closed-minded theories of those unwilling to admit that they ask why too.

Everything is deemed destiny by few.  Some others do not agree.  Why would each of our lives have a purpose?  Why is it not just a big soup of nonsense?  And if it is, why does it exist? Why?

Why is my life important?  Why do you take part in it?  And there are no answers, just bangle-wearing women with foggy crystal balls and tarot cards.

And who really knows if there’s a god? Who really cares? And who really knows how far science can go? Who?

Maybe nothing I see is here and maybe there is no purpose. If that is so then why the need for survival?  Why the fight?  Why the passion, the fear, the dreams? Why the music and the screams?  Why do I run, and why do I seek, the answers to why, oh why, oh why?

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The Art of Giving Up

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Sometimes we give up

Assuming our goal is too high or too deep

We don’t take a second to step back and calculate

We just stop

Why do we do this?

What makes us give up on our dreams?

I used to like to think that I was banking them away for later; a good excuse for procrastination and/or giving up entirely.  It seems as though even when people are constantly giving up, they refuse to admit it, me being one of them.  Where does the motivation and passion go?  Could it have simply melted away into nothing?  Why do we constantly lie to ourselves about this loss?  And why in the hell am I still up at 4 am typing this damn text that is borderline stream-of-consciousness writing?  Maybe these thoughts are important for some reason or another but I can’t be sure where they came from or why it is that I must be writing them now.

What is important is that dreams are not something we should stash away in the drawer of tomorrow, they should be a gift that we open today.  We too often back down out of fear and insecurity when we should be rising up and taking hold.  It really isn’t as hard as it may seem.  I am beginning to realize that now, at least with the smaller things.  The larger things take just a little more work and dedication.  To persevere one must let go of doubt and let confidence pour in.  Now if I can just push myself a little further… if I can wade out just a little deeper… who knows where my river of dreams could take me?

Oh but giving up is easy

Maybe we would just rather lay around

Feeling too trapped for that bravery

We don’t like the risk of tangling our chains

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