Those Days Have Come and Gone.

Through these glasses the world becomes clear. There is focus. The dimly lit rooms dont haunt anymore, instead I walk freely between what is light and what is dark. I pay no heed to my feet as they move underneath, they churn with freedom. Desperation maintains its place at the back of my mind , preying on the feeling that I dont know where I am going. Nothing is certain these days, the values we once had have since been trampled and shredded into non-existence.

Years from now I will walk up to that shelf and grab my book. In it will be words, metaphors, themes, and ideas that at some point made perfect sense.  Certain things will never change. The chapters, stories and testimonies will dictate the general direction of carefully crafted sentences towards a path of redemption for the author.

But now is now. Today is today. The pages lay blank, the themes scream out the sin of generalism. The minutes before the storm are not of panic, or chaos, they are of tranquility. That’s the place I seek, far beyond the smoke of idealism and beyond the reach of boredom and infringement. There is a place, where the simplicity of a sound and the beauty of an ideal will clash in a work that might change the lives of many or several, or just my own…to that I pay no attention, it is of no importance to me. The days of worrying, and susceptability to criticism have come and gone. Here is where I begin my life.

For You? For Me? For Them?

5 steps into the room. The door shuts, and the windows close. A mandala sits in the middle, reflecting the perfection but inevitable dissapearance of such ideal. What I do is different. What you do is fake. I create with full knowledge of what’s at stake. Styles permeate, resonate, but can often suffocate. I don’t wait, don’t sit, don’t sleep. I’ve been knee deep, since that first heart beat. You’re average, Im not, I’ve seen slums, hungry faces, starvation, and fear, heard screams in the night that to this day I still hear. Despite years passed I still hold those faces dear. So stay clear from me my dear, for fear, I might rear back and scream. 

You took an ideal, a bit of some swag, things you read in a book, but experience is what I have. I’ve seen mothers break down, and fathers follow suite. I’ve seen dead ones meet their demise without having a clue. So tell me little one who are you? 

Its alright, I wont tell, or lift that facade. Ill sit back and burn slow, fill the room with my thoughts, my dreams and nightmares. You live what you think you should, keep up little one, keep up. Im not here for much longer. You convinced me you were something, a rare sparkle in an otherwise lackluster world. Does your soul tell you different? Do you really believe in all the things that you preach, self-reflection should come prior to ones ability to teach. See I don’t hate you, I cant say that Im mad, just frustrated that I lost what in fact I never had. You’re my sister or brother that will always be first, but don’t think I don’t know you’re capable of much worse, you can live a lifetime of pretending but it’ll never quench that thirst. Originality will always come first. 

Peace & Love.

{untitled}

I treated the situation like any other. The minutes passed like water drops breaking up my thoughts. A seat lay vacant at the end of the hallway. Through the old door exists happiness and silence. The silence deafens my shouting, screaming for help. The walls are caving in , the minutes have passed… the moment is gone. I struggle to understand; the answers are gone, feelings are bare. 

Now Im just here, trying to see out a foggy window at the world that passes on. I search but cant find the time, I struggle to see what went wrong. The mirrors don’t speak, my books whisper insults at me.  The words don’t have weight, thoughts run cold. The winter is here, and the beauty is gone. The insults don’t hurt, but the complements kill. They’re cold, and they resonate & linger in a cloud of annoyance. 

I walked down the street in the rain, just as morning rays peered through the clouds. New possibilities, new adventures.

A Loss Is A Loss…

I once played in a game. There were two teams. I was on one. I played to the best of my abillities and it showed. I was the star. I stepped onto the court and became lost in my mother’s cheers  and the numbing sensation of freedom.

Playing basketball when I was young made such an impact on me, not just because I enjoyed the game and was able to play it at a high level, but because I gained from it a piece of perspective that would weld itself to my permanent character.

Winning is great, because it offers the ultimate satisfaction, accomplishment. It is important for it drives us to the next challenge. But, what does winning teach us? How many of us are humbled by victory?  Thats where the notion of  this perspective I speak of  plays its part.

See, when you win it means you were not pushed to the point your weaknesses were exploited and capitalized upon. You stood through.

A loss exploits you, opens you up to criticism, doubt, and reflection. Watch any major sporting event (World Cup, Super Bowl, NBA, World Series, Tennis, ect). The winners are jubilant caught in the ecstasy of accomplishment and recognition. The losers lower their heads, and carry the empty look of a someone who has just been shown a serious truth about themselves that they couldn’t overcome. Here lies the importance of a loss.

See the fact that you are exploited in a loss means you are shown an unbiased reflection. This allows for the correction of mistakes and faults to ensure success. Suddenly, we are able to regroup and compete again. This time we are strengthened by our improved personal awareness. This example is coupled with sports but it does not have to be. It can easily be mirrored to reflect our personal lives.

Its hard to lose in life. Wether you lose someone-to death, or separation- or wether we succumb to life’s challenges, a loss is not just a loss. A loss is homework, a reading we are given which should be analyzed and recorded for use at a future moment. I have lost so many things in my life. Some were by my own fault, and others came from the spontaneous nature of the real world. I lost people I loved, and admired.

Yet, I never let such losses be just losses. I have learned from those people that don’ t occupy my time anymore, and they have made me better. Sometimes we view our enemies or lost acquaintances as negative, but for me they have been the opposite. It was them that made me stronger, they made me love stronger, appreciate more, see the world more clearly. Wisdom is gained by experience and experience is gained by action. The only detterent to our action is the contemplation of failure…nothing else.

Its tough to live with a loss. Its not an easy thing to shake. Sometimes we live with our losses our entire lives. Regardless, failure should not be feared it should be used to adapt and improve. Our loses make us stronger than our victories.

“Those who neglect the past, are doomed to repeat it.”

Peace and Love.

Just Because.

Just because:

Im hurting doesnt mean Im hurt. The mirror hangs crooked on the wall. I walk by it everyday, seldom glancing in its direction for fear of what I might see. Im never sure if I will dread what I have become. I took leaps, took risks, hit the ground running, kept my chin high for the sake of those who follow me. I extended myself to the criticism of the real world, turned my back to the simple and gave way to the complex. 

The strain takes its toll these days. The light grows shorter. So many things are possible. I can make any choice I want. I can do whatever I want, throw compassion to the side and take a dive into these days of solidarity. The pen offers a solution, offers the therapy needed to complete a thought process. But in reality, what can it accomplish? 

30 yards away sits someone who knows me… my weaknesses, my strengths, my faults. She stood behind the mirror and stared straight at me and she was happy. But, like all things eventually the pressures, problems, and doubts we all have caused the deterioration of what is so special to me. The impression made on me will never leave my side. It changed my perspective and my ability to love. See, I stared straight at the mirror at that point and was happy.

So now the winter makes its way towards me and in the night I hear them talk, the coldest story ever told, about a man who lost his soul.

Soul Rebel

Peace my soul rebel, 

We have not spoken in some time. The days fade with melancholy rhytmn.The keys of my typewriter lay dormant, hibernating in the warmth of idealism. Days cease to be separate entities and thus become a slideshow of hours & minutes. Its you my soul rebel I have been missing. 

The world is changing, like the tides or the winds. The soul of a people begins to breath, gasping for new life and change. We stand here, we soul rebels, fighting for the integration of new ideas, we scream until our faces glow white with desperation. My people stand idle no longer, their idealism seeks recognition.  When will you join soul rebel? 

So listen soul rebel, to the dark nights that whisper secrets of a lost era. Open yourself to growth & change. Let the beat of a cultural revolution stay prominent in your heart & mind. peace and love.