Iridescent wordless symbols,
When meant to find my way,
It seems that what it seems is not,
And sent to find me, in display,
Is my past self, warning me of what?
Should I not be warning him?
It seems he misunderstands this world;
His mental outer-rim.
For the past me which I stand,
Eye to eye, we meet,
His eyes seem of less blue then I,
And much less damaged, be his feet.
He tells me to kill bad men.
Is as justified a cause,
If wrongdoing can be proven right,
He deserves death for his flaws,
Yet I stand defiant in new words,
And tell him times have changed;
From he to me, it seems so wrong,
Our views have been exchanged.
He tells me he is happy with her,
I say that they won't last,
As I move on to brighter days,
He is trapped there, in the past,
To wish and wish on my behalf,
For things to all work out;
He believes now from our meeting,
That my present is his flawed route,
And as such he puts foot to ground;
He dreams the status quo,
Will never ever ever leave,
"Oh please," he begs, "don't go."
His head lays deep in words and thought;
To him, his God is real,
Yet deeper questions permeate,
What he swore he'd always feel;
In his state of deep confusion,
He turns to me and asks,
"Is this Lord of ours, still ours?
Or are we split on this, in half?"
I look to him, and sag my head,
"To me?" I double check,
"To me, my friend, yes it would seem,
This Lord of ours is dead."
In arbitrary confusion,
Mixed in with a scent of awe,
My past self turns and paces back and forth;
These new thoughts seem so raw.
Finally, he turns to me,
And looks me in the eyes,
And asks me,
"This girl I'm with, it seems so right,"
I have no heart to say she dies.
All I do is smile at him,
And say "Just let it float,
But remember that at some point,
That you'll need to let it go."
Eyes narrowed in suspicious depth,
He says that he must go.
It seems that both our dreams are over;
It's time to wake up; let life flow,
For both of us, we met as one,
Somewhere in-between,
Our split-dimensions, and I hope,
We'll meet again, and see,
How different things may still become,
In our future, plastered black;
For now I'll stay here, unaware,
And walk, blind, life's race-track.
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Saturday, June 19, 2010
Disposable
For some people,
A little is to much to ask;
And for this reason,
Asking seems a tough task.
I do know a person,
Who is so hard to read,
You'd never know if,
From the inside, they bleed.
You'd never know if the words,
That she spoke,
Were meant in all honesty,
Of if they were simply a joke.
You'd never know if her feelings,
Confessed,
Were meant as a curse,
But back then,
You felt blessed.
All you would know,
Is that you would've been there for her,
Whenever she said so,
Despite her message, which blurs;
Because day-in and day-out,
You'd say, 'I can feel her love,'
Yet it's ironic, despite this,
She tossed it like a disposable glove.
Why did she toss it?
Because she was unsure,
And her mind, seems so distant,
She seems broke at the core,
Yet I can't help but wonder,
Day-in, and day-out,
If she meant what she said,
And late at night, I do pout,
For what could have been,
And all the plans we had made,
I miss her so much,
It can hurt just to say.
I wish my feelings would fade,
As quick as they had appeared,
Yet if life was that simple,
She might still be here,
Close by my side,
Showing me that she cares,
Even if sometimes,
It didn't seem fair.
But now I sit here,
Alone on this bright, sunny day,
Wondering why,
I care so much for you in this way,
And why I can't drop it,
Is probably because,
You said it may not be over,
Yet you still scratch me with claws,
Which I sincerely believed,
You would never let bruise,
At least not my body,
You make me feel so used.
A little is to much to ask;
And for this reason,
Asking seems a tough task.
I do know a person,
Who is so hard to read,
You'd never know if,
From the inside, they bleed.
You'd never know if the words,
That she spoke,
Were meant in all honesty,
Of if they were simply a joke.
You'd never know if her feelings,
Confessed,
Were meant as a curse,
But back then,
You felt blessed.
All you would know,
Is that you would've been there for her,
Whenever she said so,
Despite her message, which blurs;
Because day-in and day-out,
You'd say, 'I can feel her love,'
Yet it's ironic, despite this,
She tossed it like a disposable glove.
Why did she toss it?
Because she was unsure,
And her mind, seems so distant,
She seems broke at the core,
Yet I can't help but wonder,
Day-in, and day-out,
If she meant what she said,
And late at night, I do pout,
For what could have been,
And all the plans we had made,
I miss her so much,
It can hurt just to say.
I wish my feelings would fade,
As quick as they had appeared,
Yet if life was that simple,
She might still be here,
Close by my side,
Showing me that she cares,
Even if sometimes,
It didn't seem fair.
But now I sit here,
Alone on this bright, sunny day,
Wondering why,
I care so much for you in this way,
And why I can't drop it,
Is probably because,
You said it may not be over,
Yet you still scratch me with claws,
Which I sincerely believed,
You would never let bruise,
At least not my body,
You make me feel so used.
Monday, June 14, 2010
The Depression Analysis
Today, I've decided my first real article in a very long while will deal with one of human societies greatest plagues: depression.
In the same style as The Facebook Analysis, I am going to analyze how true popular cultures representation of depression is, both in my immediate environment, as well as throughout the entire world via crosschecked sources, and how much of a plague it still is, despite this seeming awakening of a new Renaissance vibe I've felt since the beginning of my Grade 10 year, both here in my home town, as well as throughout my (not-so extensive, to be honest) travels.
INTRODUCTION: THE RENAISSANCE VIBE
The 2000's in general have really held a strange atmosphere to me; one of many deluded, mixed messages sent forth by the ever-expanding horizons of corporate media, as well as the slowly growing authoritarianism of governments in first-world countries, in which it's easy to come to the conclusion that fascism may very well make a comeback in the near future.
Yet beneath the growing superficiality of consumerism, the growing denial of democratic rights in parliaments the world over, and the near-deafening screams of corporate media mavens which make the slow bureaucratization of North America remain hidden in plain sight, something strange is happening under the surface. Something different. Something incredible.
People are no longer listening to the belittling words of their televisions, which tell them day-in and day-out that they won't remain good enough if they don't keep up with the current styles.
In fact, people are standing up in alarming numbers which seem to present the ideals of the majority, as opposed to the shrinking conservative minority. A show of compassion to others is now considered the norm, and not only is it socially acceptable, it's encouraged among the entire population, with it growing into a very serious endeavor throughout human society as a whole.
No longer is war accepted as 'necessary,' but is instead questioned to the point where it makes little to no sense at all as to why it is required. Basically, people are standing up to the negatives of this world.
Using words, art, and the internet, this world is changing for the better, and at an incredibly rapid pace that is sure to be noticed by everyone sooner or later, even in areas of the world where internet is generally unavailable. You're probably wondering: what exactly does this all have to do with depression? Well, once you're done reading this post in it's entirety, you'll understand exactly what I was getting at with this introduction, and that is that happiness is slowly becoming much more common than depression ever was through the close interweaving of humanity via technology and enhanced social interaction.
It's very likely that any constant underlying sense of pessimism the majority of the world once held, is about to be replaced by a constant underlying sense of optimism.
PART 1: MY RELATIONS TO, AND OPINION ON, DEPRESSION
Everyone has been depressed at some point in their lives; sadness is part of human nature.
What isn't an original part of human nature is a sense of prolonged sadness. Prolonged sadness, better known as chronic depression, came as a result of increased societal pressures as humanity grew larger and larger. It is very unlikely that you will find anyone who is chronically depressed, in which the direct cause of their depression doesn't stem directly from other human beings; whether it's the fault of an individual, a collective, or both depends on the situation itself.
Personally, I have indeed been depressed, at least in an underlying sense, for prolonged periods of time; the first time I can clearly remember being when my parents got divorced.
Of course I was upset about them getting divorced, but that wasn't what caused the prolonging of sadness. What caused it was both of my parents assumption that I was chronically depressed about it, and always bringing it up with me, and then sending me to councilors and therapists which made me feel upset because it seemed to me as if my parents believed I had an obligation to be. It carried on past that point because of the women my father got involved with, in which she belittled me by favoring my brother with extra rights, privileges, and gifts, as well as always accentuating the mistakes or bad moves I made, with my dad supporting her every thought and feeling as to appeal to her. Or it's possible he truly believed all of it, I'm not sure; but from where I was standing he seemed like her puppet.
Finally, I combated the situation, which had caused me to become very insecure with myself, by making the decision to live with my mother full-time, save for every second weekend when I would go visit my dad. Ironically, it wasn't long after I had made that decision, that his relationship ended. Sadly, in his anger, he blamed it partially on me, which caused me to become that much more insecure with myself, as if every move I made was somehow a mistake.
Now, before you get the wrong idea, my father is by no means a bad person, and this representation is very true, but it's very true to the time, and not to who he is essentially as a person, or to who he is now, as I love my father. He's an incredible person, but as I see it, this was a very confusing and hard time for him in his life. No, he's never apologized for any of this, but that's because neither of us have ever brought it up again; maybe out of fear of reprisal, or just seeing no real necessity in doing so. For whatever reason, it doesn't really matter at this point. There are no existing hard feelings between us, and this has only been mentioned as it is relevant to this article. After moving to live with my mom, I became generally abit more uplifted, but inside, essentially nothing had changed.
The second prominent time of prolonged sadness I experienced was throughout my 8th grade year, in which the shock of such a drastic change in social situation as well as educational structure caused me to remain incredibly insecure. Why, exactly?
Well, in hindsight, it wasn't just the school environment that really intimidated me via new people, some of whom were less than kind, it was also the whole consumer society, in which I believed because my parents didn't buy me the right kind of clothes, I was inherently inferior to the rest of the school population.
Throughout the entirety of 8th grade, I only really had 2 friends, one of which was constantly belittling me (although he was always there when I was physically threatened by someone), and the other being my only true friend of the time, who I had met in 6th grade.
In the following year, I suddenly became much more sociable, and much happier because of it, gaining a legion of new friends. Despite this, I was still quite insecure with myself, but at that point, I just thought that was a natural part of being a teenager, which it very much is.
Upon starting Grade 10 the following year, it seemed like I was right back in the same place I had been in 8th grade (save for maybe the lack of friends), at least for the first 3 months, after which I got a sudden bolster in my self-image.
It wasn't until near the very end of 10th grade that I really tore the shackles of insecurity and that constantly underlying sense of depression off entirely, coming to the slightly apathetic conclusion of: 'Fuck it, I don't give a shit what other people think of me.'
This philosophy was altered to become less direct and crude, as well as much less apathetic, throughout the summer of 2009, and it was at this point that I truly realized how free I was as a human being on this planet Earth of ours.
Despite this, it wasn't until about a month into 11th grade that I ceased ignoring the belittling effect of our consumer society, and instead began to fight it quite passionately. Along with this change in mental direction, I began to grow a sense of disrespect for how structured our lives are, and began fighting that with more of 'living within a moments notice.'
I guess I'll never be entirely sure when I did truly break that underlying sense of pessimism, replacing it with a constant underlying sense of optimism, but I hardly think the date or time matters; all that really matters is that it occurred at all. Now that's not to say I haven't been, or don't get upset, that's just to say that instead of being happy and then quickly swinging back to that first base of depression, I get sad, and end up swinging back to the first base which is, at least for me, happiness. The same concept applies to my insecurities.
PART 2: THE POP-CULTURE ILLUSION
It's ridiculous to think that you need money to be happy, or to live a comfortable life.
Sure, money can certainly make life that much easier, but only because the possession of such a symbol is exactly what the system wants, and as such, the system will suck-up to you as to get a piece of your profit. Now I certainly wouldn't be against it if I won the lottery, but I would be slow to do anything with the money. What I would most likely dedicate most of it to would be traveling the world, not buying some fancy mansion in Beverly Hills, and maybe a few nice sports-cars to go with it. I don't even want a mansion or a sports car; I'm always happy with something nice, yet basic.
Pop-culture, especially via television, wants you to believe that you won't be happy unless you stay in style with the newest clothes, and that the only way to obtain true inner peace is to become filthy rich and live it up in first class. Sure, first class would be a neat thing to experience, but I would be just as satisfied with coach, and like marijuana, I wouldn't seek it out by any means, but I would certainly give it a try if offered. All I know is that I could live on the streets and still find many things to keep me entertained, as well as many ways to remain happy, as it seems shallow to me to chase ridiculous, largely counterproductive dreams of being rich and famous, as it doesn't really contribute to society as a whole.
One obvious reason people quickly become depressed and disillusioned when following pop-cultures say-so, as well as chasing practically pointless goals as the ones listed above, is because they realize that despite their brand-new clothing, they feel no different inside, and any positive feedback they may obtain as a result of new clothing and hair is largely superficial, as they quickly realize the comment wasn't meant for them, but instead for how they look as a result of someone elses work. This, in turn, strengthens their outer image, but weakens their inner self, as they become more and more dependent on what consumer society tells them to look like as to continue to receive such positive feedback.
So basically, the bottom line is, it's true what they say: the best things in life are free.
Personally, I don't believe anyone should chase anything; just do what you wish to do, live in the moment, and things will come to you; although, not without some effort on your part.
CONCLUSION: THERE ISN'T ANYTHING TO WIN OR LOSE
Basically, life isn't a game, unless you make it a game; and there is no finish line you're going to need to cross at the end, and no competition you should be worried about.
I find it's also quite arbitrary to dwell on money matters; money is only the life-force of modern society because we allow it to remain as such a symbol, and even if it continues to be blood in societies veins, it doesn't mean it needs to be of any concern to you, because trust me, if you work to gain money in the same way you brush your teeth at night, enough will roll-in for you to work with, as opposed to it occupying the forefront of your thoughts, in which you give 110% to make sure you have enough flowing in to meet demand, only to realize all your doing is making ends-meet.
In conclusion, all I can really say is that to avoid depression, all you need to avoid is taking life so seriously because honestly, life is a sandbox, and you're only trapped if you want to be trapped.
So break out of that cage, and let it go both ways.
Let life live you, so you can, in turn, live life.
In the same style as The Facebook Analysis, I am going to analyze how true popular cultures representation of depression is, both in my immediate environment, as well as throughout the entire world via crosschecked sources, and how much of a plague it still is, despite this seeming awakening of a new Renaissance vibe I've felt since the beginning of my Grade 10 year, both here in my home town, as well as throughout my (not-so extensive, to be honest) travels.
INTRODUCTION: THE RENAISSANCE VIBE
The 2000's in general have really held a strange atmosphere to me; one of many deluded, mixed messages sent forth by the ever-expanding horizons of corporate media, as well as the slowly growing authoritarianism of governments in first-world countries, in which it's easy to come to the conclusion that fascism may very well make a comeback in the near future.
Yet beneath the growing superficiality of consumerism, the growing denial of democratic rights in parliaments the world over, and the near-deafening screams of corporate media mavens which make the slow bureaucratization of North America remain hidden in plain sight, something strange is happening under the surface. Something different. Something incredible.
People are no longer listening to the belittling words of their televisions, which tell them day-in and day-out that they won't remain good enough if they don't keep up with the current styles.
In fact, people are standing up in alarming numbers which seem to present the ideals of the majority, as opposed to the shrinking conservative minority. A show of compassion to others is now considered the norm, and not only is it socially acceptable, it's encouraged among the entire population, with it growing into a very serious endeavor throughout human society as a whole.
No longer is war accepted as 'necessary,' but is instead questioned to the point where it makes little to no sense at all as to why it is required. Basically, people are standing up to the negatives of this world.
Using words, art, and the internet, this world is changing for the better, and at an incredibly rapid pace that is sure to be noticed by everyone sooner or later, even in areas of the world where internet is generally unavailable. You're probably wondering: what exactly does this all have to do with depression? Well, once you're done reading this post in it's entirety, you'll understand exactly what I was getting at with this introduction, and that is that happiness is slowly becoming much more common than depression ever was through the close interweaving of humanity via technology and enhanced social interaction.
It's very likely that any constant underlying sense of pessimism the majority of the world once held, is about to be replaced by a constant underlying sense of optimism.
PART 1: MY RELATIONS TO, AND OPINION ON, DEPRESSION
Everyone has been depressed at some point in their lives; sadness is part of human nature.
What isn't an original part of human nature is a sense of prolonged sadness. Prolonged sadness, better known as chronic depression, came as a result of increased societal pressures as humanity grew larger and larger. It is very unlikely that you will find anyone who is chronically depressed, in which the direct cause of their depression doesn't stem directly from other human beings; whether it's the fault of an individual, a collective, or both depends on the situation itself.
Personally, I have indeed been depressed, at least in an underlying sense, for prolonged periods of time; the first time I can clearly remember being when my parents got divorced.
Of course I was upset about them getting divorced, but that wasn't what caused the prolonging of sadness. What caused it was both of my parents assumption that I was chronically depressed about it, and always bringing it up with me, and then sending me to councilors and therapists which made me feel upset because it seemed to me as if my parents believed I had an obligation to be. It carried on past that point because of the women my father got involved with, in which she belittled me by favoring my brother with extra rights, privileges, and gifts, as well as always accentuating the mistakes or bad moves I made, with my dad supporting her every thought and feeling as to appeal to her. Or it's possible he truly believed all of it, I'm not sure; but from where I was standing he seemed like her puppet.
Finally, I combated the situation, which had caused me to become very insecure with myself, by making the decision to live with my mother full-time, save for every second weekend when I would go visit my dad. Ironically, it wasn't long after I had made that decision, that his relationship ended. Sadly, in his anger, he blamed it partially on me, which caused me to become that much more insecure with myself, as if every move I made was somehow a mistake.
Now, before you get the wrong idea, my father is by no means a bad person, and this representation is very true, but it's very true to the time, and not to who he is essentially as a person, or to who he is now, as I love my father. He's an incredible person, but as I see it, this was a very confusing and hard time for him in his life. No, he's never apologized for any of this, but that's because neither of us have ever brought it up again; maybe out of fear of reprisal, or just seeing no real necessity in doing so. For whatever reason, it doesn't really matter at this point. There are no existing hard feelings between us, and this has only been mentioned as it is relevant to this article. After moving to live with my mom, I became generally abit more uplifted, but inside, essentially nothing had changed.
The second prominent time of prolonged sadness I experienced was throughout my 8th grade year, in which the shock of such a drastic change in social situation as well as educational structure caused me to remain incredibly insecure. Why, exactly?
Well, in hindsight, it wasn't just the school environment that really intimidated me via new people, some of whom were less than kind, it was also the whole consumer society, in which I believed because my parents didn't buy me the right kind of clothes, I was inherently inferior to the rest of the school population.
Throughout the entirety of 8th grade, I only really had 2 friends, one of which was constantly belittling me (although he was always there when I was physically threatened by someone), and the other being my only true friend of the time, who I had met in 6th grade.
In the following year, I suddenly became much more sociable, and much happier because of it, gaining a legion of new friends. Despite this, I was still quite insecure with myself, but at that point, I just thought that was a natural part of being a teenager, which it very much is.
Upon starting Grade 10 the following year, it seemed like I was right back in the same place I had been in 8th grade (save for maybe the lack of friends), at least for the first 3 months, after which I got a sudden bolster in my self-image.
It wasn't until near the very end of 10th grade that I really tore the shackles of insecurity and that constantly underlying sense of depression off entirely, coming to the slightly apathetic conclusion of: 'Fuck it, I don't give a shit what other people think of me.'
This philosophy was altered to become less direct and crude, as well as much less apathetic, throughout the summer of 2009, and it was at this point that I truly realized how free I was as a human being on this planet Earth of ours.
Despite this, it wasn't until about a month into 11th grade that I ceased ignoring the belittling effect of our consumer society, and instead began to fight it quite passionately. Along with this change in mental direction, I began to grow a sense of disrespect for how structured our lives are, and began fighting that with more of 'living within a moments notice.'
I guess I'll never be entirely sure when I did truly break that underlying sense of pessimism, replacing it with a constant underlying sense of optimism, but I hardly think the date or time matters; all that really matters is that it occurred at all. Now that's not to say I haven't been, or don't get upset, that's just to say that instead of being happy and then quickly swinging back to that first base of depression, I get sad, and end up swinging back to the first base which is, at least for me, happiness. The same concept applies to my insecurities.
PART 2: THE POP-CULTURE ILLUSION
It's ridiculous to think that you need money to be happy, or to live a comfortable life.
Sure, money can certainly make life that much easier, but only because the possession of such a symbol is exactly what the system wants, and as such, the system will suck-up to you as to get a piece of your profit. Now I certainly wouldn't be against it if I won the lottery, but I would be slow to do anything with the money. What I would most likely dedicate most of it to would be traveling the world, not buying some fancy mansion in Beverly Hills, and maybe a few nice sports-cars to go with it. I don't even want a mansion or a sports car; I'm always happy with something nice, yet basic.
Pop-culture, especially via television, wants you to believe that you won't be happy unless you stay in style with the newest clothes, and that the only way to obtain true inner peace is to become filthy rich and live it up in first class. Sure, first class would be a neat thing to experience, but I would be just as satisfied with coach, and like marijuana, I wouldn't seek it out by any means, but I would certainly give it a try if offered. All I know is that I could live on the streets and still find many things to keep me entertained, as well as many ways to remain happy, as it seems shallow to me to chase ridiculous, largely counterproductive dreams of being rich and famous, as it doesn't really contribute to society as a whole.
One obvious reason people quickly become depressed and disillusioned when following pop-cultures say-so, as well as chasing practically pointless goals as the ones listed above, is because they realize that despite their brand-new clothing, they feel no different inside, and any positive feedback they may obtain as a result of new clothing and hair is largely superficial, as they quickly realize the comment wasn't meant for them, but instead for how they look as a result of someone elses work. This, in turn, strengthens their outer image, but weakens their inner self, as they become more and more dependent on what consumer society tells them to look like as to continue to receive such positive feedback.
So basically, the bottom line is, it's true what they say: the best things in life are free.
Personally, I don't believe anyone should chase anything; just do what you wish to do, live in the moment, and things will come to you; although, not without some effort on your part.
CONCLUSION: THERE ISN'T ANYTHING TO WIN OR LOSE
Basically, life isn't a game, unless you make it a game; and there is no finish line you're going to need to cross at the end, and no competition you should be worried about.
I find it's also quite arbitrary to dwell on money matters; money is only the life-force of modern society because we allow it to remain as such a symbol, and even if it continues to be blood in societies veins, it doesn't mean it needs to be of any concern to you, because trust me, if you work to gain money in the same way you brush your teeth at night, enough will roll-in for you to work with, as opposed to it occupying the forefront of your thoughts, in which you give 110% to make sure you have enough flowing in to meet demand, only to realize all your doing is making ends-meet.
In conclusion, all I can really say is that to avoid depression, all you need to avoid is taking life so seriously because honestly, life is a sandbox, and you're only trapped if you want to be trapped.
So break out of that cage, and let it go both ways.
Let life live you, so you can, in turn, live life.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
'So you tell me your blue skies, fade to grey.'
Well, to say the least, I've had a less than good week. Alongside all the skin problems, which caused (and are still causing) extensive pain and emotional duress, which I explained a couple posts back in My Skin is Driving Me Crazy, my girlfriend also broke up with me yesterday, and I had no real idea that she was about too. Beyond the enigmatic fact that she still really likes me (according to her), but would prefer her freedom, as she doesn't feel ready for a relationship, I don't think it'd be polite, nor legal, to go in-depth with that on the world-wide web.
So, lets just say that despite the sun in the sky, and there only being one week of school left, I'm feeling pretty down. Not so much stressed anymore, as the pain in my feet has subsided for the most part, but they're still in pretty terrible condition, and my heart being broken alongside that doesn't help in the slightest. Yea, I'll get over it eventually, and yea, there's a chance it's not quite as over as I think it may be at the moment, but when you're living in the moment, the idea of a future is cloudy.
This weekend I'm just getting away from it all to rest my feet, my heart, and my mind. I did have plans, but those fell through with everything else, in part because of me not really wishing to go through with them, but with good reason. Hopefully, I'll be able to competently walk next weekend, and will be able to spend the entire weekend with friends to take my mind off of everything, or do the next best thing and put my mind at ease about all of it.
Yea, it's tough to take a chance on love sometimes, I guess, and after my stroke of failed relationships in the past 2 years, you'd think I'd be cynical about it, but I'm really not.
The more you risk, the more the pay-off will be in the end when it all really does workout, if not because of some metaphysical reason, then because you'll be so experienced in every possible situation, you'll know how to cope in the worst of it, and how to make it through the worse to see the best. There's always a silver lining, no matter how thin. You've just got to look harder if it's as transparent as it can get from time to time.
So, lets just say that despite the sun in the sky, and there only being one week of school left, I'm feeling pretty down. Not so much stressed anymore, as the pain in my feet has subsided for the most part, but they're still in pretty terrible condition, and my heart being broken alongside that doesn't help in the slightest. Yea, I'll get over it eventually, and yea, there's a chance it's not quite as over as I think it may be at the moment, but when you're living in the moment, the idea of a future is cloudy.
This weekend I'm just getting away from it all to rest my feet, my heart, and my mind. I did have plans, but those fell through with everything else, in part because of me not really wishing to go through with them, but with good reason. Hopefully, I'll be able to competently walk next weekend, and will be able to spend the entire weekend with friends to take my mind off of everything, or do the next best thing and put my mind at ease about all of it.
Yea, it's tough to take a chance on love sometimes, I guess, and after my stroke of failed relationships in the past 2 years, you'd think I'd be cynical about it, but I'm really not.
The more you risk, the more the pay-off will be in the end when it all really does workout, if not because of some metaphysical reason, then because you'll be so experienced in every possible situation, you'll know how to cope in the worst of it, and how to make it through the worse to see the best. There's always a silver lining, no matter how thin. You've just got to look harder if it's as transparent as it can get from time to time.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Problematic Poetry
I don't think you understand,
I've do so much for you.
And there you are,
Not far away,
Yet sitting with your friends.
Rarely, do I get a 'hi,'
Even less a hug or kiss.
I guess comfort is to much to ask,
And all day, it's you I miss.
I don't think you seem to understand,
That day I spent out south,
No idea how I was getting home,
I was there by word of mouth,
To spend the afternoon with you,
Yet away from me you stayed;
Except for maybe several minutes,
To crumble crackers in my hair,
And that was all you really did,
To me, that seemed unfair.
Even less-so do you seem to see,
My pain from endless plague;
I hauled myself to school,
And the pain felt, my feet drag,
I came there simply because,
I had made plans with you before,
And I wished to see you,
Yes, I knew I missed you more.
Yet there you are,
Not far away,
Yet sitting with your friends.
Rarely, do I get a 'hi,'
Even less a hug or kiss.
I guess comfort is to much to ask,
And all day, it's you I miss.
Your intermittent indifference,
I'm far from perfect, I know;
Yet you don't seem to see how hard I try,
Yet away from me, you go.
Away from me? It's not that bad,
But rarely do you stay,
The days at school seem to me,
Like a game you like to play,
In which you stay away from me,
No kiss, no hug, no hi;
And today, it seemed you didn't care,
When I really did wish to die.
And there you are,
Not far away,
Yet sitting with your friends.
Rarely, do I get a 'hi,'
Even less a hug or kiss.
I guess comfort is to much to ask,
And all day, it's you I miss.
I've do so much for you.
And there you are,
Not far away,
Yet sitting with your friends.
Rarely, do I get a 'hi,'
Even less a hug or kiss.
I guess comfort is to much to ask,
And all day, it's you I miss.
I don't think you seem to understand,
That day I spent out south,
No idea how I was getting home,
I was there by word of mouth,
To spend the afternoon with you,
Yet away from me you stayed;
Except for maybe several minutes,
To crumble crackers in my hair,
And that was all you really did,
To me, that seemed unfair.
Even less-so do you seem to see,
My pain from endless plague;
I hauled myself to school,
And the pain felt, my feet drag,
I came there simply because,
I had made plans with you before,
And I wished to see you,
Yes, I knew I missed you more.
Yet there you are,
Not far away,
Yet sitting with your friends.
Rarely, do I get a 'hi,'
Even less a hug or kiss.
I guess comfort is to much to ask,
And all day, it's you I miss.
Your intermittent indifference,
I'm far from perfect, I know;
Yet you don't seem to see how hard I try,
Yet away from me, you go.
Away from me? It's not that bad,
But rarely do you stay,
The days at school seem to me,
Like a game you like to play,
In which you stay away from me,
No kiss, no hug, no hi;
And today, it seemed you didn't care,
When I really did wish to die.
And there you are,
Not far away,
Yet sitting with your friends.
Rarely, do I get a 'hi,'
Even less a hug or kiss.
I guess comfort is to much to ask,
And all day, it's you I miss.
My Skin is Driving Me Crazy
I apologize, as I always do, for my long internet absence.. part of which wasn't my fault in the slightest, considering the blogger servers were out for some reason, but only for a couple days.
I've been having a pretty bad week, at least so far, anyways, due to my skin condition, known as eczema for those who aren't aware, which has been acting up incredibly for the past 2 days.
Usually, the condition affects my hands and my legs, but most seriously, both of my feet... yet I woke up on Monday morning, and it had spread like hives across my arms, as well as my back and chest. It's spread to those parts of my body before, but only temporarily.. about a week being the longest that I can remember, and then it disappeared by the beginning of the following week, from the said areas, anyways.
However, it's not the conditions affects on my chest, arms, back, hands, or legs that has been driving me crazy; I've lived with those ones since I was quite young, and yes, it has itched and hurt, but never to any insane extent that has kept me up at night. Yet that is exactly what has been happening for the past few days because of my feet, which have been acting up like crazy, itching in the middle of the night and waking me up at 3 AM, and causing me to be unable to go back to sleep, as I have to resist the incredible urge to scratch, as that will cause it not only to itch more, but to sting, ache, and burn as if I was in some recent industrial accident which involved me dipping my feet in acid. Sadly, our efforts to make it better via the quick fix made it only worse, by the looks of it, as yesterday, we went and paid a visit to the doctor, who was going to give me a higher dose of steroid cream, yet he also said there was an even higher dose that would heal it within 2 days, but with very real risks: the possibility that it would thin my skin, as well as the possibility that it would leave permanent stretch marks.
Deciding to take the risk in favor of my constant scratching, pain, and sleepless nights, not only did the itch seem to become magnified, I woke up in the morning screaming at myself and crying it hurt and itched so incredibly bad. Hauling myself downstairs, still crying like I was quickly going insane, my mom, thinking quickly, decided to bring me down to the beach, where I dipped both of my feet into the ocean. For now that seems to have helped incredibly. It's still getting slightly itchy, but no more than usual, although I'm thinking I should avoid that new cream as it's probably what caused this sudden breakdown.
Hopefully, the itch will die down (entirely, preferably, but more realistically, just so it's very slight every once in a while), and not only my feet, but my entire body will clear-up because of the sun being out for the summer months, which have, in the past, healed my eczema almost entirely, at least for about 4 months, until around December, when the cold air aggravates it once again.
Anyways, I just thought I'd pop on the give everyone a quick update on how I've been, as I've been so preoccupied and busy lately. More poems and new articles are coming your way, I promise you that, so keep on the look out for both of those things, and I hope you all have a fantastic week! Hopefully, mine becomes incredible too.
I've been having a pretty bad week, at least so far, anyways, due to my skin condition, known as eczema for those who aren't aware, which has been acting up incredibly for the past 2 days.
Usually, the condition affects my hands and my legs, but most seriously, both of my feet... yet I woke up on Monday morning, and it had spread like hives across my arms, as well as my back and chest. It's spread to those parts of my body before, but only temporarily.. about a week being the longest that I can remember, and then it disappeared by the beginning of the following week, from the said areas, anyways.
However, it's not the conditions affects on my chest, arms, back, hands, or legs that has been driving me crazy; I've lived with those ones since I was quite young, and yes, it has itched and hurt, but never to any insane extent that has kept me up at night. Yet that is exactly what has been happening for the past few days because of my feet, which have been acting up like crazy, itching in the middle of the night and waking me up at 3 AM, and causing me to be unable to go back to sleep, as I have to resist the incredible urge to scratch, as that will cause it not only to itch more, but to sting, ache, and burn as if I was in some recent industrial accident which involved me dipping my feet in acid. Sadly, our efforts to make it better via the quick fix made it only worse, by the looks of it, as yesterday, we went and paid a visit to the doctor, who was going to give me a higher dose of steroid cream, yet he also said there was an even higher dose that would heal it within 2 days, but with very real risks: the possibility that it would thin my skin, as well as the possibility that it would leave permanent stretch marks.
Deciding to take the risk in favor of my constant scratching, pain, and sleepless nights, not only did the itch seem to become magnified, I woke up in the morning screaming at myself and crying it hurt and itched so incredibly bad. Hauling myself downstairs, still crying like I was quickly going insane, my mom, thinking quickly, decided to bring me down to the beach, where I dipped both of my feet into the ocean. For now that seems to have helped incredibly. It's still getting slightly itchy, but no more than usual, although I'm thinking I should avoid that new cream as it's probably what caused this sudden breakdown.
Hopefully, the itch will die down (entirely, preferably, but more realistically, just so it's very slight every once in a while), and not only my feet, but my entire body will clear-up because of the sun being out for the summer months, which have, in the past, healed my eczema almost entirely, at least for about 4 months, until around December, when the cold air aggravates it once again.
Anyways, I just thought I'd pop on the give everyone a quick update on how I've been, as I've been so preoccupied and busy lately. More poems and new articles are coming your way, I promise you that, so keep on the look out for both of those things, and I hope you all have a fantastic week! Hopefully, mine becomes incredible too.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Not To Be Commanded
There are nights when sleep evades,
My tired eyes; yet thought invades,
To make my hallow head howl loud;
Tonight, you will not find a crowd,
In thronged masses; city streets,
Tonight, no DJ drops his beats.
There are nights when sleep comes soon,
Under the brightly-lit full moon;
My thoughts, lie strewn throughout this mess,
I call my brain; the cut-slack caress,
Of my gift in which I care,
So little for the systems 'fair,'
They tell me structure has it's place,
In this chaos we call the human race;
Yet the guns and guts beg to tell,
A different story, of others hell.
Now I'm not one to run from black;
And I'm not one to move off track,
Yet the beaten trail, I find used,
And along it lies the bodies,
Bruised,
Of those who chased the distant dreams,
Of alcohol and slot-machines.
The TV blares, until nights end;
It tells us fame sits around the bend,
That we do walk past,
Everyday,
Like I can't see the gullible sway,
Towards such lies;
They grow so old,
Around that bend,
Lie's fools gold.
The beat, upon it's own does change,
From black to blue,
And red to gray;
The ones that fear such backlash say,
'Does color matter anyway?'
Is there a separate end,
To night and day?
To say the least,
Time is a lie,
A lie which tells me when I die;
Please, when I die, you can cry,
But not because we won't speak again,
Instead because throughout your veins,
I pulsed like blood, seeped like sweat,
And now all I do, is beset,
Your head with thoughts of then,
Which envelope for the moment, now;
Yet I am still the sweat on your brow,
I am the words you speak,
And moves you make;
I left you empty, in my wake,
And as of now, you must fulfill;
That is my last wish, my last will.
Full of hatred, be mankind,
Yet now the light they've dodged,
Is there to find,
In others words,
There thoughts, in kind,
Twist fervently forwards,
The future in which I won't be,
Our actions made this new man free.
I am, yet then I am not,
For my partial head has caught,
The virus I asked to infect,
To find within our souls; collect,
The universe is large above;
Do you think stars fall in love?
Glassy eyed,
I look at you.
I'm tired, yes,
And so are you,
Yet upon our faces,
We both wear,
Projections that we both do care,
So much for what we both are;
When we're with each other,
Our minds meld,
Like molten iron,
No thoughts withheld;
They say that kisses seem to weld,
Forever stronger than industrial bonds;
Of you, yes, I'm dearly fond.
The King upon the mountain screams,
You must all see, I, too, have cracked seams;
I to am just as flawed,
And now to that,
You must applaud.
For through these cheers,
The truth is shown;
We all have at least one charred bone,
And there is no such thing as being alone.
My tired eyes; yet thought invades,
To make my hallow head howl loud;
Tonight, you will not find a crowd,
In thronged masses; city streets,
Tonight, no DJ drops his beats.
There are nights when sleep comes soon,
Under the brightly-lit full moon;
My thoughts, lie strewn throughout this mess,
I call my brain; the cut-slack caress,
Of my gift in which I care,
So little for the systems 'fair,'
They tell me structure has it's place,
In this chaos we call the human race;
Yet the guns and guts beg to tell,
A different story, of others hell.
Now I'm not one to run from black;
And I'm not one to move off track,
Yet the beaten trail, I find used,
And along it lies the bodies,
Bruised,
Of those who chased the distant dreams,
Of alcohol and slot-machines.
The TV blares, until nights end;
It tells us fame sits around the bend,
That we do walk past,
Everyday,
Like I can't see the gullible sway,
Towards such lies;
They grow so old,
Around that bend,
Lie's fools gold.
The beat, upon it's own does change,
From black to blue,
And red to gray;
The ones that fear such backlash say,
'Does color matter anyway?'
Is there a separate end,
To night and day?
To say the least,
Time is a lie,
A lie which tells me when I die;
Please, when I die, you can cry,
But not because we won't speak again,
Instead because throughout your veins,
I pulsed like blood, seeped like sweat,
And now all I do, is beset,
Your head with thoughts of then,
Which envelope for the moment, now;
Yet I am still the sweat on your brow,
I am the words you speak,
And moves you make;
I left you empty, in my wake,
And as of now, you must fulfill;
That is my last wish, my last will.
Full of hatred, be mankind,
Yet now the light they've dodged,
Is there to find,
In others words,
There thoughts, in kind,
Twist fervently forwards,
The future in which I won't be,
Our actions made this new man free.
I am, yet then I am not,
For my partial head has caught,
The virus I asked to infect,
To find within our souls; collect,
The universe is large above;
Do you think stars fall in love?
Glassy eyed,
I look at you.
I'm tired, yes,
And so are you,
Yet upon our faces,
We both wear,
Projections that we both do care,
So much for what we both are;
When we're with each other,
Our minds meld,
Like molten iron,
No thoughts withheld;
They say that kisses seem to weld,
Forever stronger than industrial bonds;
Of you, yes, I'm dearly fond.
The King upon the mountain screams,
You must all see, I, too, have cracked seams;
I to am just as flawed,
And now to that,
You must applaud.
For through these cheers,
The truth is shown;
We all have at least one charred bone,
And there is no such thing as being alone.
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