Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Sunday, November 29, 2015
Some days I want
to break down and cry.
Destroying the silence
that I feel in and around me.
My sobs, like wrecking balls
Smashing large holes,
My wails cutting through
the silent supports.
My moans detonating in
the silent foundation.
My expectation of connecting
to another person
as the structure of silence
crumbles around me.
The demolition of silence falling,
while its’ dust rises
in the rays of the sun.
Who heard me?
Was it you?
Monday, November 2, 2015
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Friday, October 30, 2015
Thursday, October 29, 2015
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Monday, October 26, 2015
Sunday, October 25, 2015
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Friday, October 23, 2015
Thursday, October 22, 2015
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Monday, October 19, 2015
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Friday, October 16, 2015
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Monday, October 12, 2015
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Friday, October 9, 2015
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Tuesday, September 29, 2015
Time stalks you.
It drives by your house
slowly on a Friday night
playing "your" song.
Time hides in the bushes
and the bullrushes,
Time knows that
you can't ignore it.
It swoons you.
It lulls you,
into a passive state.
Then you snap
out of it
and you realize
that you are now chasing Time.
You hiding in the bushes
and bullrushes, wheezing.
You want to drive by
playing "your" song,
longing for more.
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
My soul weeps
whenever you're around.
My mind sleeps
whenever you're around.
My heart breaks
and tumbles to the ground.
The romance inside
spilling out on the ground.
You've taken me hostage
Ground my joy into sausage.
carving out a larger cavern in my soul.
emptying me out, you sad little troll.
Tuesday, August 25, 2015
Friday, August 7, 2015
The joy of your youth had a hole ripped in it under the guise of love.
The decision of how you should define love was made for you by others.
It was made out of the fear and ignorance of what others knew.
They wanted you to know the fear and ignorance they saw.
They wanted to know that they were not alone in what they saw and felt.
So they did it to you to protect you.
They gave you the first wound, so you knew it was a wound.
In the ecstasy of self-awareness, they forgot what they did, so they repeated it again and again.
Until they knew that you knew that they knew too.
And they said they were sorry.
And you were left with a gaping hole in your life, that you try not to fall through.
You try to hide it. You try to fix it. You try not to fall through it while others watch because they will see you and judge you.
They will try to save you as a way to save themselves. Their fears will make them ignorant of you and your hole. They will rip the hole bigger with the best intentions of making it smaller.
Then you will not know where the hole is and it will swallow you.
Falling in to the darkness of your soul. The despair, the pain, the blindness, the numbness all wrap themselves around you.
They squeeze you tight. So tight that you stop the fight and continue to fall.
Then you stop. Stop caring. Stop feeling.
Then you stop falling.
You open your eyes, brush yourself off and stand up in the hole in your soul.
You find the feelings, the fears have gone. Leaving you with the hole in your soul,
that you try not to fall in, again.
Monday, August 3, 2015
The most important thing in Life is Being Alive. Being someone who is able to seek the truth. Being able to share the truth. Being able to reflect on the truth. Being able to restate the truth and explain the truth. Being able to act based in that truth. Being able to reflect on your actions.
Once, you have stopped living or even died, leaving the mortal world behind you, then your truth becomes fiction. It becomes fiction as stories are told of you and your exploits. Your truth is shared through the minds of others as it has affected them. These people add, subtract, distill, hypothesize based on their experiences, such that your truth then becomes their interpretation of your truth.
Their interpretation of your truth comes from juxtaposing their experiences with their reflection on their actions, and the communal stories and understanding of what you did. You are not there to explain yourself, thus the person affected by your truth has to guess, deduce, intuit and/or analyze what has been passed along as your words and stories of your actions as they think, reflect and allow your truth to feed the development of their truth.
Simply put, time interferes with the direct understanding of what you did, what you said and the context in which this all occurred. No one can say that they were there when Jesus drove the moneychangers from the temple, how he did it or why. We can only put our life experience over the story that has been passed from generation to generation and person to person in an attempted understanding. There is not anyone involved in the event who is available to ask questions of.
This layering of interpretation over time turns your truth, actions and words, in to a fiction told by another without you to establish finer points of clarity. When you stop being alive, you are not present to refute someone stating that you did or said something.
The veracity and validity of any truth you may have discovered lies in the ability of another to process and reach conclusions based on their interpretations. That person's interpretation becomes their truth infused with your truth.
All this happens once you stop living, stop interacting and stop connecting with people. Yet while you still draw breath, while your heart still pumps, while you mind is still present can you still discover your truth, share your truth and refine your truth, so that it may be your definition of you that can be passed on to others for their active use.
Saturday, July 18, 2015
Today's paragons, today's superheroes, are under attack from forces of darkness. Rather they are under attack from anti-intellectual, lowest common denominator, executive summary, bottom line forces from corporate marketers and their demegogary of demographics.
Rather than have characters that people want to model their behavior after, we now have superheroes that are pandering and attention seeking whores of crass corporate Commercialism. We have been given I-Wonder-what-a-Woman-does, Mentally Unbalanced Batman and Not-So Superman.
They have all resulted from a disgusting need to have popular and powerful characters that can be sold to unsuspecting adults and children as replacement deities for the disenfranchised with currently popular world views or castoffs from major religions.
The ''trinity" of DC Comics Superheroes are Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman.They were conceptualized and conceived as exemplars of virtue and pro-societal behavior. Each has appealling subtexts, but they also overtly support the greater aspects of American representative Democracy: new beginnings, overcoming obstacles, compassion for others, personal independence, interdependence, contribution to a greater ideal and clarity of purpose. None of those exist in modern DC Comics.
Tuesday, July 14, 2015
How can that happen, you ask? How Can Someone be so pure? so honest? so noble? How Can someone strive to be virtuous? How Can someone as powerful as Superman not abuse his power or even be tempted to do so?
I think the better question is ''Why do you expect power to be, in and of itself, something that is so tempting and corruptible?"
The key is really what is your purpose and perspective in life? Are you selfish? Looking to help only yourself? Or are you selfless or just plain helpful, such that anything you have, or Can do, you use in a way to be of benefit to others, rather than simply yourself?
That is the big difference between fans of Superman: The Movie and fans of the Man of Steel, do you approach the world as helping yourself first or are you helping everyone equally?
Friday, July 10, 2015
Every once in a while, I am struck with depression. Not just blah, but a feeling of Dread, like a hand clasping your soul. Stopping your enthusiasm, Slowing your feelings of being alive. Coming in like an ectoplasm, clogging your extrasensory abilities. then it turning into an iron grip.
Depression is the slowing down of your life that gets out of control until despair takes over stopping all enjoyment and all feelings. This is the greatest danger of a leisure oriented lifestyle, but it is not limited to that lifestyle. It just makes you more susceptible.
You begin to feel less valuable and don't want to know why. You just sink into doing nothing, feeling nothing and being nothing.
Friday, July 3, 2015
Reach Out To Love
Reach out your hand to love,
get it shoved away.
Reach out your hand to love,
get it slapped away.
Reach out your swollen hand to love,
get it crushed.
Reach out your gnarled hand to love,
get it burned.
Reach out your charred hand to love,
get it burned.
Reach out your charred stump to love,
get it touched and caressed.
Sunday, February 22, 2015
If you feel weird, different or don't belong remember that you have to be comfortable with your difference, your weirdness and ultimately yourself. Do it without forcing yourself on anyone nor letting anyone force themselves on you. Your existence is a vibrant, powerful energy that radiates into the Universe. It is a beacon attracting supporters and detractors, those who will want to reflect it or mute it. The truer you, the most honest and accurate presentation of yourself, that you put out in the Universe, including both strengths and weaknesses, the easier it will be reflect your brilliance and more difficult it will be to distort, diffuse and mute.
Be yourself. Define yourself. Nuture yourself. The Universe has a place for you, but you need to step in to it.
Friday, February 6, 2015
Monday, January 19, 2015
Packer kids, when your "parents" ridicule the Vikings for collapsing in NFC Championship games, you now know the hurt that they are ridiculing. Does that seem fair?
Thursday, January 15, 2015
I often wonder why I have a blog.
Does any of what I write here matter?
Does anyone read it?
Does anyone like it?
Will anything that I write here be held against me?
Will anything that I write here change someone?
Will anything that I write here change the world?
By asking these questions, am I being avoidant?
By asking these questions, am I feeding my fear?
By asking these questions, am I tearing down my confidence?
Am I crippling myself because I am afraid?
Am I spinning my wheels because I want guaranteed acceptance of what I write?
Am I stuck in neutral because I want guaranteed praise of what I writes?
Am I afraid of criticism?
Am I afraid of being seen?
Am I afraid of being heard?
Am I afraid of being acknowledged?
Am I afraid of being recognized?
Am I afraid of being wanted, desired?
Am I afraid that people will want to be around me?
Am I afraid that I will be smothered by people being around me?
Am I afraid that I will lose myself because people want to be around me?
So all these questions make me think that my logic is that if I write in my blog then I will lose myself because I want to please other people. That my blogging means that I will be some trained monkey who is dancing for the reward of acceptance from other people. How fucked up is that?