I am never held back or kept from my intentions by rules as much as I am by my own will
Mmkay, so what are you gonna do with that?
Well, I need to just take ownership and do those things and move past my distractions and excuses and believe in my goals and do what I’m meant to do
…I don’t know. I don’t know what I want exactly.
Words. I want words. I like writing them, making them, reading them, using them. Find the right words.
The right words for what?
The right words… to describe… the truth… reality. The words to capture reality. To share this reality. To share life. The right words to pass on something meaningful from what I’ve learned from my time here, something outside of myself.
You need to write religiously. Seriously. Read like it’s study, apprenticeship, rather than a hobby or something to pass the time. You hate your present habits but it has nothing to do with their monotony – stultification – and everything to do with keeping the wrong habits. Work at what you know you must and at least you will know you’ve made some progress in some intentional direction.
Now, like the man out his car window said: ‘Put your phone away and live your damn life’
That thing that you had been hiding for so long – didn’t it kill you?
Didn’t it claw at you from within; twist you to nausea like guilt so often does?
Maybe you’re just stronger than me – I know that’s what you thought.
It pissed you off that I always kept my cool. I made a point of keeping it, and I still do.
To you, my lack of hostility made me soft. I never knew what the thing that made you soften was.
Your entire life you were falling, and you never let me catch you until you were caught.
Try disparaging yourself more deeply
Cutting yourself down more comprehensively
Perhaps then you’ll finally be rid of all the reasons to go on
Maybe to aim so low is already too much of a direction for someone looking to be lost
I’m walking briskly like the breeze
As it’s whisking through the trees
And we’re both doing so with ease
And yet I’m wary with good reason
For the temperature’s a tease:
It’s getting cooler by degrees
Still balmy, mind you, for a freeze
Is quite unlikely for the season
Still a skeptics heart would seize –
It seems it’d take only a sneeze
The skies to pop, populace flees
And dryness take a try at treason
But now… the clouds must hear my pleas
Deem them sufficient to appease
Without my dropping to my knees
The sky beheld – so quelled, a boon
Because for now there’s but the breeze
And time for birds and boys and bees
To sing and saunter as they please
Til nigh’s the rising of the moon
Build in rocks glass, in listed order, over ice. Garnish with lime wedge.
I don’t condone violence, but I nearly always find coordinated insurrection agreeable.
The life cycle of a building man. It sits abandoned and then it either rots away, or it gets torn down, or someone revives it. Does something with it, from wherever it starts. Tiny weeds and flowers grow in after a forest fire, tiny bits of life poke their heads out to prove the coast is clear. There is decay and regeneration, necessary in tandem. The painted tags on those brick walls and boarded windows are like little seed heads poking through the ground. You know its living there. The more established the marks of culture, the safer it is to assume the establishment of that culture. Nothing is really stagnant, if it is affected by time. There is always change, and always opportunity to learn and grow and be. The only certainty is uncertainty, and that’s an incredible thing. You’ll never run out of ideas or circumstances to draw ideas from or possible combinations of the events that make up your life.