Recently I have been wondering why I haven't written anything new in a long time. I had a good streak there for a while and then I stopped. Analyzing my frame of mind and all the reasons or excuses I could come up with the plain and simple truth is that I am lazy. I follow a few blogs and I have noticed that most bloggers feel comfortable, well honestly with everything. I realize by internally limiting what I would and wouldn't post I severely handicapped myself.
From now on I will blog about whatever the hell I want. I want to see what path this takes me. I want to see what inspires me to write. I want to see if I actually do write or not. We will see.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Monday, May 18, 2009
Monday, May 11, 2009
Gypsy Ethereal Curtain
Falling from the heavens unto me, traces of you form perfect beads. Shaped by gravity and pressure, they plunge from above and seek their targets. A celestial curtain, a gypsies ethereal wall. Obscuring that within reach but yet clearing the heavy air. I now thread lightly on the newly washed path. After the forced break I see my target clearer than ever.
Is that what rain is for? a mandatory break to refresh and reconsider. Does the monotonous become blinding and suffocating? or is monotony a side effect of our own suffocating blindness.
Either way the rain is welcome and so are you.
Copyright (c) 2009
Is that what rain is for? a mandatory break to refresh and reconsider. Does the monotonous become blinding and suffocating? or is monotony a side effect of our own suffocating blindness.
Either way the rain is welcome and so are you.
Copyright (c) 2009
Treatment
In a new universe of free thought and unimagined consequences I dare to live. The day to day fallacies of my old life are just bad dreams in this new realityscape. Every so often I awake from an all too familiar nightmare, a bit disoriented and always wondering if the dream i wake from is my reality and the reality I wake to is just my dream. Strangers things have happened and living two lives wouldn't be such an awful thing even if neither is close to perfection.
Finding myself now in any reality and aware of some of my surroundings leaves me with a bitter taste, just like the hangover after taste from a night of cheap booze. I take that as a side effect of reality swapping. A reminder, no matter what I do here I still have to return to my other life.
As much as I have done here I have done there, and yet the feelings of inadequacy and of need to achieve more, rarely leave me. It is not the sense of failure but that of an urgency to do more. Always need to do more.
So with this sense of being two in one, of one in two places, I live everyday, and today is the day I try to piece it all together.
Copyright (c) 2009
Finding myself now in any reality and aware of some of my surroundings leaves me with a bitter taste, just like the hangover after taste from a night of cheap booze. I take that as a side effect of reality swapping. A reminder, no matter what I do here I still have to return to my other life.
As much as I have done here I have done there, and yet the feelings of inadequacy and of need to achieve more, rarely leave me. It is not the sense of failure but that of an urgency to do more. Always need to do more.
So with this sense of being two in one, of one in two places, I live everyday, and today is the day I try to piece it all together.
Copyright (c) 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
A New York Moment
Tuesday evening on my way home from work I spied a stranger glance. As I boarded my train, I was not alone, the stranger and I shared a direction. As I have been doing lately I concentrated on my writings and seldomly glanced at my surroundings. When I did look up from my pad I would make brief eye contact with the stranger.
Now y mind is juggling the ideas I scramble to write and the mystery that lie within this strangers eyes. I get a burst of new words, sentences I must write and I ignore the world. I finally look up and before me is a very tall and handsome and intriguing man. He has the look of a professional making his way to someplace familiar. I admire his features and immediately think of what he must feel like to have everyone look him the moment he stands, and see his height more than anything else. I hope that this does not affect him and I think of telling him: Hey don't worry what others are thinking, for as much as they gawk you should know at least one of us is an admirer.
As I think this we arrive at his station and soon he is lost in the crowd. Looking away I realize that the stranger is still with me and once again we make eye contact. We are soon coming to my stop, and now I see him approaching me, I assume he is exiting at the next stop.
He is not exiting but rather coming to me, acknowledging all the times we've made eye contact. I remove my head phones and we start talking:
Stranger: Did you get on the train on canal street?
Me: Yes I did, that's where I got on the train.
Stranger: Since Canal Street have you fallen in love?
Me: I was already in love before Canal Street.
Stranger: Ok. Since Canal Street have you fallen in love again?
Me: No I have not fallen in love again, I did see someone who I found interesting.
Stranger: Ah ha, your eyes do not lie, I could see the story they were telling, I saw your eyes when he got up and I must say good taste.
Me: *chuckles* yes he was very attractive, but I believe my eyes were already telling a story I already knew. They showed love because I felt and it existed within me before this instance. I actually did have a thought I wanted to share with him but I did not.
Stranger: Interesting, I believe the eyes do not lie and yours told me a story.
We continued our conversation and introduced ourselves. It seems that this stranger is named Edward and he has his own story. The part that i know is this, he is working on his timidness and approaching strangers for chats is one method of therapy. He was very appreciative of my willingness to speak with him and to actually engage him. I am very appreciative of his courage and for that brief New York City moment where two people connected on a shared experience.
Copyright 2009 (c)
Now y mind is juggling the ideas I scramble to write and the mystery that lie within this strangers eyes. I get a burst of new words, sentences I must write and I ignore the world. I finally look up and before me is a very tall and handsome and intriguing man. He has the look of a professional making his way to someplace familiar. I admire his features and immediately think of what he must feel like to have everyone look him the moment he stands, and see his height more than anything else. I hope that this does not affect him and I think of telling him: Hey don't worry what others are thinking, for as much as they gawk you should know at least one of us is an admirer.
As I think this we arrive at his station and soon he is lost in the crowd. Looking away I realize that the stranger is still with me and once again we make eye contact. We are soon coming to my stop, and now I see him approaching me, I assume he is exiting at the next stop.
He is not exiting but rather coming to me, acknowledging all the times we've made eye contact. I remove my head phones and we start talking:
Stranger: Did you get on the train on canal street?
Me: Yes I did, that's where I got on the train.
Stranger: Since Canal Street have you fallen in love?
Me: I was already in love before Canal Street.
Stranger: Ok. Since Canal Street have you fallen in love again?
Me: No I have not fallen in love again, I did see someone who I found interesting.
Stranger: Ah ha, your eyes do not lie, I could see the story they were telling, I saw your eyes when he got up and I must say good taste.
Me: *chuckles* yes he was very attractive, but I believe my eyes were already telling a story I already knew. They showed love because I felt and it existed within me before this instance. I actually did have a thought I wanted to share with him but I did not.
Stranger: Interesting, I believe the eyes do not lie and yours told me a story.
We continued our conversation and introduced ourselves. It seems that this stranger is named Edward and he has his own story. The part that i know is this, he is working on his timidness and approaching strangers for chats is one method of therapy. He was very appreciative of my willingness to speak with him and to actually engage him. I am very appreciative of his courage and for that brief New York City moment where two people connected on a shared experience.
Copyright 2009 (c)
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Fleeting Thought
It is 8:25 AM on Wednesday April 22nd and I am already riding the subway to work, I am unusually on time. Probably due to the fact I went to bed early and woke up several times without an alarm. My brain is awake and so my body must follow.
Last night i actually spent some time with some of my friends drinking and talking. Once i made it home i wrote an e-mail with some of my writings to my new friend. I had hoped to catch him online when he was waking to go to school but sleep got the best of me. At around 5:37 AM i woke up without the assistance of my alarm clock and I had a story to tell, I debated whether I should get up and grab my pad and pen. I did not and now i cannot remember a single detail of the story that not so long ago had me marveling at the occurrence of early inspiration.
Does that lack of motivation to get up and write signify I have missed one of the best stories I could've written? I do not think so, I rather think that I did not arise because it was the beginnings of an idea that i witnessed. My creative incubator was working on developing it more, I was not yet supposed to see it. But because I was waking earlier than usual I caught a glimpse as it skittered across my subconscious. I am a strong believer that every word i write, every idea i express every emotion i feel, all live within me.
This response to that lost but remembered idea flows from me shortly after experiencing it. It conveys on a piece of paper what my consciousness is struggling with. I have yet to master my self, but i still hold control.
Since life is a continuous challenge it bodes well to prepare internally. Perhaps after further thought that initial idea i glimpsed was but a seedling for what i am writing now. It's whole purpose was to set me on this track of thought. By over-thinking it I am distracting myself from my true purpose which is getting all this on paper. This is part of me and now by reading it part of you.
Now that my pen has been unsheathed it will not stop until every drop of ink has been laid down.
Copyright (c)
Last night i actually spent some time with some of my friends drinking and talking. Once i made it home i wrote an e-mail with some of my writings to my new friend. I had hoped to catch him online when he was waking to go to school but sleep got the best of me. At around 5:37 AM i woke up without the assistance of my alarm clock and I had a story to tell, I debated whether I should get up and grab my pad and pen. I did not and now i cannot remember a single detail of the story that not so long ago had me marveling at the occurrence of early inspiration.
Does that lack of motivation to get up and write signify I have missed one of the best stories I could've written? I do not think so, I rather think that I did not arise because it was the beginnings of an idea that i witnessed. My creative incubator was working on developing it more, I was not yet supposed to see it. But because I was waking earlier than usual I caught a glimpse as it skittered across my subconscious. I am a strong believer that every word i write, every idea i express every emotion i feel, all live within me.
This response to that lost but remembered idea flows from me shortly after experiencing it. It conveys on a piece of paper what my consciousness is struggling with. I have yet to master my self, but i still hold control.
Since life is a continuous challenge it bodes well to prepare internally. Perhaps after further thought that initial idea i glimpsed was but a seedling for what i am writing now. It's whole purpose was to set me on this track of thought. By over-thinking it I am distracting myself from my true purpose which is getting all this on paper. This is part of me and now by reading it part of you.
Now that my pen has been unsheathed it will not stop until every drop of ink has been laid down.
Copyright (c)
Fight or Fly
Freedom lies on outstretched wings.
Those who seek just to find, find their only seeking.
Little gifts of joy delight, each one of us in kind.
I face my life with fear so cumbersome, I feel my weight is mine and right.
Each sight I see a tiny spark, a neutron from a different sun.
The flask I fill with all my thoughts escapes my hands at every grasp.
Undaunted i step forward, I walk with purpose, even when lost.
A man once said he had found everything he ever sought.
When I asked what he treasured the most, he showed me the love he never had.
I am nothing without your words, without your acknowledgment.
In this space where we are words, symbols, sights feelings and objects.
I am never one, I am always many.
My definition of me whether intellectual or whimsical has a nucleus that cannot be seen but it is always felt.
This touch plays such a role that is more than we perceive .
When I embrace you I give you me, I open up in that locked state.
I share my life force, my history & my future.
Animalistic designs do not bind us to fate, or make beasts of us.
Instinct serves its purpose.
Always rationalizing explaining or ignoring that which just is.
It seems that the only thing which we really share with each other is narrow sight.
So much for being the intelligent self-aware species, we still react from fear.
Fight or Fly
Copyright (c)
Those who seek just to find, find their only seeking.
Little gifts of joy delight, each one of us in kind.
I face my life with fear so cumbersome, I feel my weight is mine and right.
Each sight I see a tiny spark, a neutron from a different sun.
The flask I fill with all my thoughts escapes my hands at every grasp.
Undaunted i step forward, I walk with purpose, even when lost.
A man once said he had found everything he ever sought.
When I asked what he treasured the most, he showed me the love he never had.
I am nothing without your words, without your acknowledgment.
In this space where we are words, symbols, sights feelings and objects.
I am never one, I am always many.
My definition of me whether intellectual or whimsical has a nucleus that cannot be seen but it is always felt.
This touch plays such a role that is more than we perceive .
When I embrace you I give you me, I open up in that locked state.
I share my life force, my history & my future.
Animalistic designs do not bind us to fate, or make beasts of us.
Instinct serves its purpose.
Always rationalizing explaining or ignoring that which just is.
It seems that the only thing which we really share with each other is narrow sight.
So much for being the intelligent self-aware species, we still react from fear.
Fight or Fly
Copyright (c)
Awakening
Today I was caught in the water of life, pouring over me caught by surprise. Now I feel renewed again and lucky to have met a kindred soul. A new friend I've made and a new bond. This is the feeling that I had lost so many seasons ago. The dust on the secrets I've hidden from myself under the guise of self protection, now wafts listlessly through the air. You have guided my hand to the key and shown me that they are only ever whole inside their homes. The possibilities which were only dreams before, caged by my fear and sustained by my hopes now are transformed into my goals, the milestones i shall achieve.
I am me again the me I was born to be, a product of cosmic dust and sparks of life all culminating into one being. Your life has triggered mine and I am wide awake. I in time can only hope to do the same for you.
Copyright 2009 (c)
I am me again the me I was born to be, a product of cosmic dust and sparks of life all culminating into one being. Your life has triggered mine and I am wide awake. I in time can only hope to do the same for you.
Copyright 2009 (c)
Morning
The day has come to greet me, entering my bedroom all at once.
Bundle of sun in evert corner. Signs of life in every ray.
My eyers are dancing from blooming trees to blades of grass.
Absorbing all of springtime and in awe of the cycles we all endure.
Now I am awake, now I realize that my wintry prison has thawed away.
From day to day it seemed all too familiar, now that it is gone I realize what i have missed.
The renewal of life is more than the spring blossoms i enjoy, it is more a renewal of human life.
I feel all energies entering me.
Now that i am free I have discovered what was lost.
For my wintry holding had outstayed its season.
My heart is unclouded and pouring out furiously.
No longer my internal prisoner frozen to me, but beating wildly and unrestrained.
Letting you into its chambers and welcoming you to your new home.
Looking back at my crystal clear cage, I realize all i did was admire and hope for all that i perceived.
My blood was slowed to a simmer, my passion was stored for safe keeping.
All my sense were dulled and my awareness was veiled.
This cage had no known wardens and yet their power had effects which i am slowly realizing.
I can only blame myself for not escaping, the key was always in me. It's location no big secret.
It's final resting place just another dark corner.
Once the light of spring entered my room and shone on my being I found my key.
Once that gate was opened the veil was removed, my senses met the sharpening stone and my blood roared.
My passion was released from its vault and unleashed.
Looking back i was fooled, by my fear, my heartbreak, my loneliness and my dissapointment in love, into a self induced hibernation.
Maybe all i needed was break from my own life, from my mistakes, from my own judgement.
If only I could do this then, I would know what went wrong, or more sincerely I wouldn't be hurt again.
You cannot wound a dormant heart.
These unknown wardens were nothing more than the fictitious guardians of my heart.
They had power because i allowed it, i bestowed it.
I have no stronger enemy than myself, and now that i know my enemy he will never succeed again.
Copyright 2009 (C)
Bundle of sun in evert corner. Signs of life in every ray.
My eyers are dancing from blooming trees to blades of grass.
Absorbing all of springtime and in awe of the cycles we all endure.
Now I am awake, now I realize that my wintry prison has thawed away.
From day to day it seemed all too familiar, now that it is gone I realize what i have missed.
The renewal of life is more than the spring blossoms i enjoy, it is more a renewal of human life.
I feel all energies entering me.
Now that i am free I have discovered what was lost.
For my wintry holding had outstayed its season.
My heart is unclouded and pouring out furiously.
No longer my internal prisoner frozen to me, but beating wildly and unrestrained.
Letting you into its chambers and welcoming you to your new home.
Looking back at my crystal clear cage, I realize all i did was admire and hope for all that i perceived.
My blood was slowed to a simmer, my passion was stored for safe keeping.
All my sense were dulled and my awareness was veiled.
This cage had no known wardens and yet their power had effects which i am slowly realizing.
I can only blame myself for not escaping, the key was always in me. It's location no big secret.
It's final resting place just another dark corner.
Once the light of spring entered my room and shone on my being I found my key.
Once that gate was opened the veil was removed, my senses met the sharpening stone and my blood roared.
My passion was released from its vault and unleashed.
Looking back i was fooled, by my fear, my heartbreak, my loneliness and my dissapointment in love, into a self induced hibernation.
Maybe all i needed was break from my own life, from my mistakes, from my own judgement.
If only I could do this then, I would know what went wrong, or more sincerely I wouldn't be hurt again.
You cannot wound a dormant heart.
These unknown wardens were nothing more than the fictitious guardians of my heart.
They had power because i allowed it, i bestowed it.
I have no stronger enemy than myself, and now that i know my enemy he will never succeed again.
Copyright 2009 (C)
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