Man, if you all could only hear the thoughts racing through my little head. So many of them voicing their opinions at once. (Yes, I did just add personification to my thoughts of my thoughts. Deep shit, right?)
It is not an arguable fact that I'm very candid with my blog. I share things that only crybabies, emo's and others similarly conflicted with awareness can express openly without thinking of the ridicule or shame to follow. (Yes, I'm saying that I'm better than you. No, it is not a pretentious statement if it is true. It is true).
I know why people think this should be private and I whole heartedly disagree. If you put something intimate out there, be prepared to withstand the criticisms. I am prepared. If you put things of this nature into the open pulse of this "information world" then be prepared for people to be guarded with you. I am.
You know why I'm prepared, contented to do so & minimally afflicted with sharing? Because, in my normal, every day, real world life I have innumerable mouths opening strictly to tell me how far off center I am and that I need to fall in line. I come here to check and see if ANYBODY at all is out there. Because, from my view, the masses are being turned into mindlessly regurgitating zombies one by one. People mob to the same quotes and churn them out ad nauseum over a three month period. It gets old so quick. None of these takes the time to extrapolate a truer meaning of the saying than face value. These faceless & anonymous crowds still have the audacity to get upset when they are seen as an unoriginal drone; as a Pinocchio replica that is simply "dying" to be seen as a real boy. The prospect is laughable. Laughable not because it isn't possible but because it requires work which this drone wasn't built to do. The application of this work or at least the thought of the application of this work is, ironically, all these little impostors required.
I am a real boy. I have always maintained my independence as well as my dependencies. I chose to do so of a coherent & lucid volition. I'd swear it makes all the difference but I simply ain't a gambling man. I didn't know what I was doing much like anybody else. What I did know though, was that I was the one struggling through every bit of it. If I got an A, it wasn't because I listened to others speak but because I reasoned from the beginning to the end on topic. If I got an F it is because I chose my own directions without regards to what others were saying when they spoke. I tried to decided what was worthy of examination and focus. Not the greatest student. The pretenders lack this essential core mechanism. They are good alphas & betas. I rebuke the system. I am not an anarchist.
All of this I use to say that I deal with the idea of being candid to communicate my truest trials. And I do not mean that these trials are physically taxing but that I have come to an impasse and find myself lacking of confidence on how to proceed. Especially, when I have been trained to be a drone yet the lesson is being contradicted by orders from above. It is at such a point that I not only share profusely to gain perspective but I rehash many of those same perspective to see if the sources I originally interacted with has gained anything noteworthy to augment my prior understanding.
I don't need confidence if I may use observation. I do not need reinforcement if I can use the simplicity. However, when restricted, the natural idea is to resist. Being anchored and chained leads us to nowhere. In this manner do I often take stance that the ignorance of others limits me to producing my thoughts in a somewhat cowardly way on the internets to gain a better sense of what exactly is going on. This strength is taken for granted as if it were a weakness. Blah, point is, this is grace; mercy. The closed loop of operation. The open loop is the pre-programmed air of arrogance and surety that dominates the minds of today's citizenry. Kinda burnt out on it all.
Why check to make sure I'm not being an idiot? Newt Gingrich says whatever words can fit out of his mouth. Ol' whiny assed, no moral fiber having assed, adulterous and weak minded individual. And we are to respect these offices of public service when they really only exist to serve self at this point? Yes, I am glossing lightly over many a topic to ultimately say what I've already said "I'm a greater person than you are and I could care less about how you feel than I care about why ants can't die from falling from very high places."
With the flames of rebirth finding no sustaining force to exercise, the passion extinguishes itself. And as the charred remains lay there, unaffected by the gentle breeze, one must wonder "Was there ever a point at which being tactful should have mattered for me?" Regardless of what I said, I am where I would have been. Don't let your fear be the phoenix...it is not the life to lead.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Inside of me
I've been told that I have a huge heart. Sometimes I think that it doesn't translate to me having an enormous amount of love. Eh, it gets me to thinking that the love in my heart is isolated and lonely; shivering in a lone darkened corner of the cavernous expanse of my inner emotions. The moon shine of my mind receded the flowing tides of vibrance out of the equation and there was nothing but nothing to replace the newly found emptiness.
And what more could be said or done? I've loved...I have lost. I ain't mad or bitter. I'm grateful for ever finding such a connection. I spend my time working on myself & learning. I spend my time earning the distinction to get a great job so that I can afford a gold digger-esque wife to suit my old fashioned tendencies. Except, I strongly desire to be progressive. I wish with all of me that I could have an equal. Not a woman that attempts to subjugate or assimilate my consciousness to make life easier on her.(I have not a single problem with sacrificing my personal petty wants). Here is the thing, the women I meet nowadays are all either of this weird ass Gen-Y or some retarded ass evolutionary throwback to "Gen-we kicked rocks with no shoes on"(Stone age). We both gonna have to work. We both gon' hafta sacrifice. I don't want to be wooed er nothin' BUT I definitely don't want to fight for financial stability and happiness alone. I can do that shit all by myself. (That's what hoes is for).
And I get women that don't want to be women. They want to be overgrown girls with daddy issues and gold digger complexes. And let's not act like there is no such thing as an emotional gold digger. Draining all the emotion out of a guy and then, when he has nothing left to give, abandoning him for greener pastures.
That kind of happened to me. And it was hard to avoid being bitter. It was hard not to hold a grudge. But I accepted that I simply made bad decisions when it came to that woman err those women. I needed to learn and this was part of the process. So, inside of me, there rests no resentment. There is no rehash to flatten out my lack of luck. There is a great hope on the inside that no matter how long I tick along, that I will find a woman that deserves me. She can grow into it...I can grow into her...or however it works. I simply will not settle for any less than I'm giving. I'm beyond the point of sharing that information though. Women cannot handle being told that they don't measure up.
They think a week makes up for countless hours of neglect. But nothing makes up for it...nor did anyone ever need to(well except for special events).
But you get my point. I'm not really feeling any kind of way about anything right now. It is just a bunch of open space that while, primed for greatness, still requires massive amounts of cultivation before everybody sees it as such. Inside of me, there is nothing but a will and desire to grow and become the man that no woman would easily say no to.I don't want them all...I ain't greedy...I just want one. And I don't even want to own her, I just want her to want me like I want her...err somewhat close to how much I want her is good enough for me. That ain't settling because you only settle when you know you can do better. It is rare that I've even heard of women that attain such a high praise from me. I don't praise men. Not in that way at least.
And what more could be said or done? I've loved...I have lost. I ain't mad or bitter. I'm grateful for ever finding such a connection. I spend my time working on myself & learning. I spend my time earning the distinction to get a great job so that I can afford a gold digger-esque wife to suit my old fashioned tendencies. Except, I strongly desire to be progressive. I wish with all of me that I could have an equal. Not a woman that attempts to subjugate or assimilate my consciousness to make life easier on her.(I have not a single problem with sacrificing my personal petty wants). Here is the thing, the women I meet nowadays are all either of this weird ass Gen-Y or some retarded ass evolutionary throwback to "Gen-we kicked rocks with no shoes on"(Stone age). We both gonna have to work. We both gon' hafta sacrifice. I don't want to be wooed er nothin' BUT I definitely don't want to fight for financial stability and happiness alone. I can do that shit all by myself. (That's what hoes is for).
And I get women that don't want to be women. They want to be overgrown girls with daddy issues and gold digger complexes. And let's not act like there is no such thing as an emotional gold digger. Draining all the emotion out of a guy and then, when he has nothing left to give, abandoning him for greener pastures.
That kind of happened to me. And it was hard to avoid being bitter. It was hard not to hold a grudge. But I accepted that I simply made bad decisions when it came to that woman err those women. I needed to learn and this was part of the process. So, inside of me, there rests no resentment. There is no rehash to flatten out my lack of luck. There is a great hope on the inside that no matter how long I tick along, that I will find a woman that deserves me. She can grow into it...I can grow into her...or however it works. I simply will not settle for any less than I'm giving. I'm beyond the point of sharing that information though. Women cannot handle being told that they don't measure up.
They think a week makes up for countless hours of neglect. But nothing makes up for it...nor did anyone ever need to(well except for special events).
But you get my point. I'm not really feeling any kind of way about anything right now. It is just a bunch of open space that while, primed for greatness, still requires massive amounts of cultivation before everybody sees it as such. Inside of me, there is nothing but a will and desire to grow and become the man that no woman would easily say no to.I don't want them all...I ain't greedy...I just want one. And I don't even want to own her, I just want her to want me like I want her...err somewhat close to how much I want her is good enough for me. That ain't settling because you only settle when you know you can do better. It is rare that I've even heard of women that attain such a high praise from me. I don't praise men. Not in that way at least.
Monday, January 23, 2012
Most of Y'all can skip this one
I've been having a lot of little issues with a bunch of weak minded people.
I call them weak minded because they are led by basic instincts. They succumb to whatever whim gives them direction and expect the World to deal with it. Somehow, these people forget that the World owes them nothing. That I, OWE THEM NOTHING. Not patience. Not forgiveness. Not understanding. Not grace. These things I offer to achieve my goal of not allowing their actions to bind me to an emotion I never wanted to feel more than once during my life.
I seek freedom. Freedom from mental slavery. Freedom from emotional slavery. Freedom from physical slavery. I seek freedom, plain & simple. I am very willing to work for my freedom; to sacrifice blood, sweat & tears for my freedom. The people that criticize me aren't nearly as determined. They are nearly as concerned with being better people. What they are really concerned with is allaying themselves of guilt and somehow placing fault, blame and the humiliation of failure on others who can "handle" the added shame. Scapegoating.
At the turn of the new year, I had some extremely deep emotional connections tempt me with a rageful response. I did not respond to the call. Throughout the weeks, I've had others tempt me with rageful responses. I still have yet to respond to the calls. I understand that the things I say are not perfect. But that isn't a hard concept to comprehend. Each person takes words differently than the next. So, if you call me a turkey with no provocation and I call you a chicken BUT you turn what I say into an insult, who did who wrong? Didn't you just try to guilt me with your emotional baggage? I wonder.
See, I'm not against posting my conversations with people up for the crowd to judge. I know that the crowd will not be on my side. However, the one thing NOBODY can say about ANYTHING I say to anybody is that it is offensive or disrespectful. I adhere closely to social mores(for the most part). But when we dice the character of each, my consistency and dedication to morality, it is easy to decide who is the instigator of the discord.
I'm not really upset. I am however dismayed that I've surrounded myself with so many malcontents. I stick to self awareness, openness, communication and humility. It is said that the people you surround yourself with most are the people that are most like you(even if you cannot see it). However, I don't see any resemblances other than skin color. And we don't really get along much at all. Matter of fact, the only person I feel like I'm truly like is my father. We don't have disagreements. We pretty much agree on everything UNLESS I'm being emotional. From not knowing who he was or looked like years ago, to secretly overcoming my anger & resentment towards him for not being in my life for 20 years, to cultivating an understanding of life from an emotional vantage point while working fervently to remain balanced amid the chaotic climate of my world, I believe he and I have come a tremendous way in our father/son relationship. I am very proud to call him father & it has absolutely nothing to do with money. This is something I could gift to those who have issues with me because it is a common theme: Daddy issues. Both male and female but especially FEMALES.
They simply don't know how to treat a man; be treated by a man or how to pick a man. She should pick a man for his values, beliefs and character. If he says what he means, does what he says and holds his own word in high regards, then she should feel comfortably in choosing him.
Point is, whether I'm idealistically wrong or right, I can show the progression from A-Z of my thoughts. I don't do irrational things. I don't make irrational excuses. I don't irrationally blame people. I do get mad when they cannot live up to their own words or violate some standard of social consensus.
Again, you only lose when you leave me. I'm okay with that. I was okay before you. I'll be okay afterwards. I'm a lone wolf. I stand alone. The Alpha of one.
I call them weak minded because they are led by basic instincts. They succumb to whatever whim gives them direction and expect the World to deal with it. Somehow, these people forget that the World owes them nothing. That I, OWE THEM NOTHING. Not patience. Not forgiveness. Not understanding. Not grace. These things I offer to achieve my goal of not allowing their actions to bind me to an emotion I never wanted to feel more than once during my life.
I seek freedom. Freedom from mental slavery. Freedom from emotional slavery. Freedom from physical slavery. I seek freedom, plain & simple. I am very willing to work for my freedom; to sacrifice blood, sweat & tears for my freedom. The people that criticize me aren't nearly as determined. They are nearly as concerned with being better people. What they are really concerned with is allaying themselves of guilt and somehow placing fault, blame and the humiliation of failure on others who can "handle" the added shame. Scapegoating.
At the turn of the new year, I had some extremely deep emotional connections tempt me with a rageful response. I did not respond to the call. Throughout the weeks, I've had others tempt me with rageful responses. I still have yet to respond to the calls. I understand that the things I say are not perfect. But that isn't a hard concept to comprehend. Each person takes words differently than the next. So, if you call me a turkey with no provocation and I call you a chicken BUT you turn what I say into an insult, who did who wrong? Didn't you just try to guilt me with your emotional baggage? I wonder.
See, I'm not against posting my conversations with people up for the crowd to judge. I know that the crowd will not be on my side. However, the one thing NOBODY can say about ANYTHING I say to anybody is that it is offensive or disrespectful. I adhere closely to social mores(for the most part). But when we dice the character of each, my consistency and dedication to morality, it is easy to decide who is the instigator of the discord.
I'm not really upset. I am however dismayed that I've surrounded myself with so many malcontents. I stick to self awareness, openness, communication and humility. It is said that the people you surround yourself with most are the people that are most like you(even if you cannot see it). However, I don't see any resemblances other than skin color. And we don't really get along much at all. Matter of fact, the only person I feel like I'm truly like is my father. We don't have disagreements. We pretty much agree on everything UNLESS I'm being emotional. From not knowing who he was or looked like years ago, to secretly overcoming my anger & resentment towards him for not being in my life for 20 years, to cultivating an understanding of life from an emotional vantage point while working fervently to remain balanced amid the chaotic climate of my world, I believe he and I have come a tremendous way in our father/son relationship. I am very proud to call him father & it has absolutely nothing to do with money. This is something I could gift to those who have issues with me because it is a common theme: Daddy issues. Both male and female but especially FEMALES.
They simply don't know how to treat a man; be treated by a man or how to pick a man. She should pick a man for his values, beliefs and character. If he says what he means, does what he says and holds his own word in high regards, then she should feel comfortably in choosing him.
Point is, whether I'm idealistically wrong or right, I can show the progression from A-Z of my thoughts. I don't do irrational things. I don't make irrational excuses. I don't irrationally blame people. I do get mad when they cannot live up to their own words or violate some standard of social consensus.
Again, you only lose when you leave me. I'm okay with that. I was okay before you. I'll be okay afterwards. I'm a lone wolf. I stand alone. The Alpha of one.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Me and Misses Me
I've definitely earned the designation of "emo" dude. I am not okay with that. However, I strongly value the ability that comes with being so "sensitive" in that I can read people better; deeper than most and faster. The downside of having more thoughts to express is murderous both romantically and socially. As I think back, I've decided to share this story from the annals of my life.
Star crossed lovers is an understatement. We crossed universes in each other's eyes before we ever took a breath of this outside world. She and I, me and her. From the moment I first stayed up all night talking with her, enthralled by the rapid pace and depth of our conversation, I knew, she was the one I was intended to love. That feeling only got deeper, more intense and redefined in more meaningful ways. We are both deeply passionate people. There were great things about the couplings. She could teach me the opposite of discipline which is having no choice; doing what is necessary. I could teach her the freedom of accepting that all things rise and fall in fire, from the forest to the world of man...everything in this life is as the phoenix. We loved so freely and shared so much. But bitterness, jealousy & interference was rife. There were violations of information sharing and so much came in the way of us just being able to exist outside of time and within each others arms. Eh, well, that is the way the cookie crumbles sometimes. You love somebody so much that you think about them and it eats at you. It seems as if we couldn't handle the strength of our bond. We both panged endlessly from the bite of love. And when I didn't know what to do and couldn't talk about it...we melted. And when she didn't know what to do and we couldn't talk about it...we melted. We just kept melting. Believing and hoping and wishing that one day soon, we would be able to just BE together without so much of the world trying to actively break us apart.
Special or not, this was a bitter pill to swallow. As I think back, she really didn't measure up to my former girlfriends in the task of giving me what I wanted. She didn't fawn at my feet like I was accustomed to. There was so much tragedy to this connection. The only thing that wasn't Romeo and Juliette about it is that we didn't die at the end of our love. We did not part at death...just the imminent warning of it. And that was enough for both of us.
I was increasingly unstable trying to imprint in her actions that I would not waver and that my dedication to her and I, me and she, was absolute. I believe that she believed me. Hell before her, I was ready to settle down with another girl. A care-free, child-like nymphette who only wanted to teach and be comforted. And there was nothing wrong with her but she certainly did not challenge me in any meaningful way. She had always complained about being too little for me but I didn't care. I just focused on appreciating her. Well at that time, new versus old, there was no comparison. The mental stimulation rocked out the difference and the old had already moved on in many ways. I simply stopped holding on.
Through out the strife an problems, the cool thing about me and mental mind meld woman (who this blog is about) is that I never lacked the compassion for wanting to be around her. I couldn't get enough of her. We had a similar happy bug. But our variations in strengths caused huge rifts between us. I'm a wordsmith type. I understand the similarities and easily make connections between words without even the slightest delay. I love language. She is more of a math mind. She is very calculated to the directionality, pitch and denotation/connotation of a word. That led to a few discrepancies. But such was hardly ever a big deal and we forged beyond the frustations. I and she, her and me.
Until a very dark time came to pass. We were both in the bowels of societal angst. The future appeared bleak to both on individual scales. Neither wanted to drag the other down. However, one felt stronger than the other. One had more vision that the other. And my emotions got the better of me. I fell first. She fell harder. But before she fell, she brought me back to life. When I stood, I couldn't notice that she, herself was falling. By the time I reached for her, it was too late and there was no reviving what we had. She...and...I...her...and...me.
I do not know just how long it took me before I could even walk around without the clouds of death over me. I don't know how long it was until I smiled from my heart again. All I know is that I have yet to meet a woman that so envelopes me in her being without me being in her body. And until that makes an infinitesimal of sense, I will not accept anyone telling me that they can relate to how I felt because they aren't like I was. And character descriptions would be nice but just because the overall progression of acts denotes high likelihood of similarities, the devil is in the details. This is akin to me explaining two cars and how they keep breaking down and have expensive parts to fix but one is an Aston Martin and the other an Acura Integra. Sure, the love is splendid and miraculous but the R & D behind every implemented thought. The exhaustive search for answers and combinations and solutions and desires. Those things just cannot be paralleled with desire. Especially when those things occur at the same time and space that desire does.
All in all, I'm still waiting to see if I bump into someone that proves to me that she wasn't the love of my life. I'd hate to have lost something so precious. My Silver eyed diamond of sunshine. If you ever read this Maybe the hourglass is no longer sick with us.
Star crossed lovers is an understatement. We crossed universes in each other's eyes before we ever took a breath of this outside world. She and I, me and her. From the moment I first stayed up all night talking with her, enthralled by the rapid pace and depth of our conversation, I knew, she was the one I was intended to love. That feeling only got deeper, more intense and redefined in more meaningful ways. We are both deeply passionate people. There were great things about the couplings. She could teach me the opposite of discipline which is having no choice; doing what is necessary. I could teach her the freedom of accepting that all things rise and fall in fire, from the forest to the world of man...everything in this life is as the phoenix. We loved so freely and shared so much. But bitterness, jealousy & interference was rife. There were violations of information sharing and so much came in the way of us just being able to exist outside of time and within each others arms. Eh, well, that is the way the cookie crumbles sometimes. You love somebody so much that you think about them and it eats at you. It seems as if we couldn't handle the strength of our bond. We both panged endlessly from the bite of love. And when I didn't know what to do and couldn't talk about it...we melted. And when she didn't know what to do and we couldn't talk about it...we melted. We just kept melting. Believing and hoping and wishing that one day soon, we would be able to just BE together without so much of the world trying to actively break us apart.
Special or not, this was a bitter pill to swallow. As I think back, she really didn't measure up to my former girlfriends in the task of giving me what I wanted. She didn't fawn at my feet like I was accustomed to. There was so much tragedy to this connection. The only thing that wasn't Romeo and Juliette about it is that we didn't die at the end of our love. We did not part at death...just the imminent warning of it. And that was enough for both of us.
I was increasingly unstable trying to imprint in her actions that I would not waver and that my dedication to her and I, me and she, was absolute. I believe that she believed me. Hell before her, I was ready to settle down with another girl. A care-free, child-like nymphette who only wanted to teach and be comforted. And there was nothing wrong with her but she certainly did not challenge me in any meaningful way. She had always complained about being too little for me but I didn't care. I just focused on appreciating her. Well at that time, new versus old, there was no comparison. The mental stimulation rocked out the difference and the old had already moved on in many ways. I simply stopped holding on.
Through out the strife an problems, the cool thing about me and mental mind meld woman (who this blog is about) is that I never lacked the compassion for wanting to be around her. I couldn't get enough of her. We had a similar happy bug. But our variations in strengths caused huge rifts between us. I'm a wordsmith type. I understand the similarities and easily make connections between words without even the slightest delay. I love language. She is more of a math mind. She is very calculated to the directionality, pitch and denotation/connotation of a word. That led to a few discrepancies. But such was hardly ever a big deal and we forged beyond the frustations. I and she, her and me.
Until a very dark time came to pass. We were both in the bowels of societal angst. The future appeared bleak to both on individual scales. Neither wanted to drag the other down. However, one felt stronger than the other. One had more vision that the other. And my emotions got the better of me. I fell first. She fell harder. But before she fell, she brought me back to life. When I stood, I couldn't notice that she, herself was falling. By the time I reached for her, it was too late and there was no reviving what we had. She...and...I...her...and...me.
I do not know just how long it took me before I could even walk around without the clouds of death over me. I don't know how long it was until I smiled from my heart again. All I know is that I have yet to meet a woman that so envelopes me in her being without me being in her body. And until that makes an infinitesimal of sense, I will not accept anyone telling me that they can relate to how I felt because they aren't like I was. And character descriptions would be nice but just because the overall progression of acts denotes high likelihood of similarities, the devil is in the details. This is akin to me explaining two cars and how they keep breaking down and have expensive parts to fix but one is an Aston Martin and the other an Acura Integra. Sure, the love is splendid and miraculous but the R & D behind every implemented thought. The exhaustive search for answers and combinations and solutions and desires. Those things just cannot be paralleled with desire. Especially when those things occur at the same time and space that desire does.
All in all, I'm still waiting to see if I bump into someone that proves to me that she wasn't the love of my life. I'd hate to have lost something so precious. My Silver eyed diamond of sunshine. If you ever read this Maybe the hourglass is no longer sick with us.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
I've got 12 post to publish
Since September, when I got into emotions that drowned out the thoughts in my consciousness, I haven't completed 12 blog posts. I aim to correct that within the upcoming week. Some of them will be posted on the notice of my pride despite the situations being done and over with. Of course, I still don't know if anybody besides the homie, reads this. I also don't need to know. It ain't my business. Oddly enough, anyway.
I hope you all can enjoy the thoughts that will be expressed within those posts.
Until then. It's all love.
I hope you all can enjoy the thoughts that will be expressed within those posts.
Until then. It's all love.
Gestures of Kindness
I wanted someone who would wipe my tears away without telling me not to cry. I'm crying because I want to. I want to feel that pain. There is a reason. I am human and I accept that emotions inspire these sometimes unfortunate physiological reactions. Especially, given these stringently enforced gender roles that suppress expression.
I've finally gotten old enough to the point that I'll not only admit to crying but that I'll seek a woman understanding enough to accept me even while I don't fit the role of what she thinks a man should be. I cannot even find that in my family. They don't seem to be able to take any persons emotions seriously besides their own. All of their insults are birth from insecurity and nothing more. You have any idea how boring that is?
Even more so, my dearest friends, do pretty much the same. But here is the kicker: I'm always there. If I'm not there, then there is a very real reason why I'm not. I'll show up sick. I'll show up broke. I'll show up broken. I'll fight an orc or a giant, a troll or a demon. I don't care. I'll give my life to fight for my loved ones and all they must do is ask. You see, I do the minimum. I could easily put out more effort and reap in more benefits just to share with y'all. At least, I should say that in a past tense. To one person and only that one person am I being unfair but that's only in a few ways. They are being just as unfair to me. Have been for the longest time. So, that I'm balancing out the pain output...despite the timing...I'm barely bothered. Pressure burst pipes but it also makes diamonds. I need diamonds full of sunshine by my side not a busted pipe. God grant them the strength to get through it all.
Hopefully, the change in my demeanor doesn't run everyone away. I'm still trying to be the best me. I'm just not trying to soften the blows on anybody else. I ain't Jesus. If it does run everybody away, all I need to do is move. I'll make new friends, eventually. Because going how I was, my life was about to be quit...(not in a suicide way but more like a disappearing without notice kind of way). This was the most loving decision I could make.
I wonder how cool I'll be. To cool to hear the cries of somebody that was to cool to wipe away the tears of my cries. Beastly cool man. Ice Cold.
I've finally gotten old enough to the point that I'll not only admit to crying but that I'll seek a woman understanding enough to accept me even while I don't fit the role of what she thinks a man should be. I cannot even find that in my family. They don't seem to be able to take any persons emotions seriously besides their own. All of their insults are birth from insecurity and nothing more. You have any idea how boring that is?
Even more so, my dearest friends, do pretty much the same. But here is the kicker: I'm always there. If I'm not there, then there is a very real reason why I'm not. I'll show up sick. I'll show up broke. I'll show up broken. I'll fight an orc or a giant, a troll or a demon. I don't care. I'll give my life to fight for my loved ones and all they must do is ask. You see, I do the minimum. I could easily put out more effort and reap in more benefits just to share with y'all. At least, I should say that in a past tense. To one person and only that one person am I being unfair but that's only in a few ways. They are being just as unfair to me. Have been for the longest time. So, that I'm balancing out the pain output...despite the timing...I'm barely bothered. Pressure burst pipes but it also makes diamonds. I need diamonds full of sunshine by my side not a busted pipe. God grant them the strength to get through it all.
Hopefully, the change in my demeanor doesn't run everyone away. I'm still trying to be the best me. I'm just not trying to soften the blows on anybody else. I ain't Jesus. If it does run everybody away, all I need to do is move. I'll make new friends, eventually. Because going how I was, my life was about to be quit...(not in a suicide way but more like a disappearing without notice kind of way). This was the most loving decision I could make.
I wonder how cool I'll be. To cool to hear the cries of somebody that was to cool to wipe away the tears of my cries. Beastly cool man. Ice Cold.
Lucky Men...Sorta
Lucky Men
They don’t need to be about s***!
Skill, coincidence or blessed fortune smiles upon their paths through life and blesses them with the women that I hear about. The women I dream about one day possibly having in my life. The women I toss and turn at night for wanting to hold me and comfort me through my trivialities, triumphs & tribulations. Maybe I shouldn’t think about these women or who has them.
Maybe I should simply focus on being a better person. Find a source of income and begin to milk it. Find hobbies and interest and begin to enjoy that version of life. Maybe I should become somebody else because who I am just won’t let go of the idea that I’m here, on this planet to love both giving and receiving the benefits of an undeniable…unbreakable connection. Sure, I’m an idealist…a romantic from a different place and time. And I type this as I listen to Beyonce’s 1+1. But I believed what that song speaks before the song existed. It is how I lived. Like the people that mattered to me needed to know that.
All I did was spoil them and their behavior reflects that over-zealous application of favor. And it wasn’t until I gave up that I realized what led them to beat at me so ferociously. It took a great deal of strength. It took a great deal of abuse. It took every bit of my active energy to even give up. Because the end arrives so quick that most just fall off rather then ceasing the progress. One of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, was to give up the way I was living my life through my interactions with others.
I got physically sick. And I began to dream. And within my dreams, I began to think about other men. I asked myself how they balanced personal preference with showing affection and consideration for their loved ones without requiring almost a maximum output of effort to maintain balance. Lucky men.
I decide that I’ll never find a woman that’ll actually love me. Not like she needs to, not like I need her to, not good enough to keep me, not good enough to ease this pain that these pretenders laze across my heart. Maybe she too, will be a pretender. Maybe, I’ve already gotten the best women have to give and I’m just too insatiable to be pleased.
Well, that stuff was dragging me into a depression. I have things that I do like going to the gym that stop me from getting depressed. Except, I cannot get into a gym right now. I don’t have the energy to deal with it. I cannot cope. I had to let go of those thoughts. I had to let go of all the former thoughts that I’ve mentioned in this post just so that I could continue to breathe. I had to make life simpler. And now life is simple.
Life is simple because if I want something, I go and get it. If I need something, I ask for it. If I cannot simply ask for it, I ask how I can earn it. I have no reason to hide behind pride or even shame or social mores. I just don’t care anymore. I am little more than a beast with a limited conscience. I don’t care any further about those lucky men than I do the lucky woman that is missing out on me…that is, until she and I find each other. I could already know her. I could already care about her…it could also be that me, allowing myself to be unfettered by the desire to maintain in a highly manicured and maintenanced state, these relationships, is what helps her see me for who I am. Maybe not.
At this point, I am 1. I’m not even looking for my +1. I’ve been so hurt and disappointed. Ignorantly treated like I wasn’t important while being told I was the utmost important. But intents don’t mean much to anybody. Not the court of law. Not the people who are hurt by the action. Not the people that feel threatened. The only thing an intent proves is that you aren’t without a conscience. I appreciate people with a conscience but if their actions cannot find consistency with their thoughts, then they need to figure out how to make that happen.
My intent is never to cause anybody else pain. Now, my intent is more accurately described as living selfishly. Mainly, because the people who swore I was already doing so, can see a difference. Just because a significant number of people call it alien encounters doesn’t mean it wasn’t just flashing lights in the distant night sky. It seems as if nobody knows the difference. As if their insecurities are more importantly denied than growth is and accepting responsibility for how they feel. Ironically, the person that hurts me the most, is doing the absolute best job accepting her faults of everyone that is attacking me. Unfortunately, there is so much going on, I’m not willing to fight anyone anymore. A gentle push and then forfeiture.
Maybe, someday soon, I’ll care again. Right now, I’m doing every bit of my tiniest desire. Judge me lacking if you will. I could not, care less. You didn’t wipe away my tears…I won’t hear your cries.
They don’t need to be about s***!
Skill, coincidence or blessed fortune smiles upon their paths through life and blesses them with the women that I hear about. The women I dream about one day possibly having in my life. The women I toss and turn at night for wanting to hold me and comfort me through my trivialities, triumphs & tribulations. Maybe I shouldn’t think about these women or who has them.
Maybe I should simply focus on being a better person. Find a source of income and begin to milk it. Find hobbies and interest and begin to enjoy that version of life. Maybe I should become somebody else because who I am just won’t let go of the idea that I’m here, on this planet to love both giving and receiving the benefits of an undeniable…unbreakable connection. Sure, I’m an idealist…a romantic from a different place and time. And I type this as I listen to Beyonce’s 1+1. But I believed what that song speaks before the song existed. It is how I lived. Like the people that mattered to me needed to know that.
All I did was spoil them and their behavior reflects that over-zealous application of favor. And it wasn’t until I gave up that I realized what led them to beat at me so ferociously. It took a great deal of strength. It took a great deal of abuse. It took every bit of my active energy to even give up. Because the end arrives so quick that most just fall off rather then ceasing the progress. One of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, was to give up the way I was living my life through my interactions with others.
I got physically sick. And I began to dream. And within my dreams, I began to think about other men. I asked myself how they balanced personal preference with showing affection and consideration for their loved ones without requiring almost a maximum output of effort to maintain balance. Lucky men.
I decide that I’ll never find a woman that’ll actually love me. Not like she needs to, not like I need her to, not good enough to keep me, not good enough to ease this pain that these pretenders laze across my heart. Maybe she too, will be a pretender. Maybe, I’ve already gotten the best women have to give and I’m just too insatiable to be pleased.
Well, that stuff was dragging me into a depression. I have things that I do like going to the gym that stop me from getting depressed. Except, I cannot get into a gym right now. I don’t have the energy to deal with it. I cannot cope. I had to let go of those thoughts. I had to let go of all the former thoughts that I’ve mentioned in this post just so that I could continue to breathe. I had to make life simpler. And now life is simple.
Life is simple because if I want something, I go and get it. If I need something, I ask for it. If I cannot simply ask for it, I ask how I can earn it. I have no reason to hide behind pride or even shame or social mores. I just don’t care anymore. I am little more than a beast with a limited conscience. I don’t care any further about those lucky men than I do the lucky woman that is missing out on me…that is, until she and I find each other. I could already know her. I could already care about her…it could also be that me, allowing myself to be unfettered by the desire to maintain in a highly manicured and maintenanced state, these relationships, is what helps her see me for who I am. Maybe not.
At this point, I am 1. I’m not even looking for my +1. I’ve been so hurt and disappointed. Ignorantly treated like I wasn’t important while being told I was the utmost important. But intents don’t mean much to anybody. Not the court of law. Not the people who are hurt by the action. Not the people that feel threatened. The only thing an intent proves is that you aren’t without a conscience. I appreciate people with a conscience but if their actions cannot find consistency with their thoughts, then they need to figure out how to make that happen.
My intent is never to cause anybody else pain. Now, my intent is more accurately described as living selfishly. Mainly, because the people who swore I was already doing so, can see a difference. Just because a significant number of people call it alien encounters doesn’t mean it wasn’t just flashing lights in the distant night sky. It seems as if nobody knows the difference. As if their insecurities are more importantly denied than growth is and accepting responsibility for how they feel. Ironically, the person that hurts me the most, is doing the absolute best job accepting her faults of everyone that is attacking me. Unfortunately, there is so much going on, I’m not willing to fight anyone anymore. A gentle push and then forfeiture.
Maybe, someday soon, I’ll care again. Right now, I’m doing every bit of my tiniest desire. Judge me lacking if you will. I could not, care less. You didn’t wipe away my tears…I won’t hear your cries.
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