Just Write – Catharsis

I can’t believe the me that’s been living and the me I feel right now are the same person. I’ve heard too much praise. Too many accomplishments that I feel just can’t be me. I hear other people talk about him, and I envision this amazing guy that has his entire life ahead of him already mapped out. The guy who works so hard it seems effortless. The guy who everyone can count on; the one who everyone expects the world of. I want to meet that guy because he sure as hell isn’t here right now.

The guy I’m talking to can barely get his ass out of bed in the morning. I’ve asked him about his goals, and he is confused. I doubt that he’s ever had an idea of what he was doing in his life. He just went with it, figuring that something was better than the nothing he was promised. Figuring that making someone else smile was the best he could do. Keeping himself as the role model for others to look up to…even if he felt like shit…even if he felt like I do today… because he knows that life isn’t easy. He knows that we struggle, and he understands better than anyone else what it is like to not be okay and still not ask for help. Better to keep the bad parts to himself, and showcase only the things that inspire…right.

I…I don’t know how I forgot that. Maybe my up has just been too high, but I’ve always been like this: terribly depressed on another date with despair. I just never wanted anyone to see that. I wanted them to see someone who lived his life freely, carrying out task effortlessly, as if he didn’t have a care in a world because he doesn’t. Because I don’t. Because all I really want is to sit back and enjoy the good times. People smiling and children laughing; cute little animals that roam the park as the sun kisses the cheeks of everyone. Because we are temporary, and I’ll be damned if I don’t enjoy it while I can. Because I spend too many of my days locked inside of the prison in my mind to not find a day or even three to enjoy what is out there.

So I guess it makes sense, the things they say. That guy does exist. He just needed some time to rest, and he needed to remember who he was and what his purpose was. It was never about telling stories. It was always about inspiring them, becoming the catalyst for someone to do better. And whenever that wasn’t enough? Becoming a supporting character who helped people learn to smile. It’s just like he said…it’s just like I said:

The world is beautiful, even when it’s not. So wallow, but not for too long. There’s another good time waiting for you at the end of your misery…

Catharsis…

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Photo by Eric Nopanen on Unsplash

 

smiles like that

I think I
maybe smiled once.
not like the
image painted onto
my face the day we met,
but more like
the six-year-old
who just met
santa clause
while waiting for a
train in Chicago
during the
middle of
november.
the way he smiled
reminded me of
moments more
carefree,
and of a face that
maybe had a
smile behind it
when I stared at
books of poetry
at six years old
the way;
a six-year-old
today smiles
at
Santa Clause.

 

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Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

floating

self-sabotage solely so something
will happen. setting up mistakes
to escape since the souls I sew
with ink need stories worth telling.

what a better story than a tragedy
based on a true story; it’s just that
reality lacks all the tragedy needed
to drive a story toward a good climax.

better to leave the actual mistakes
up to the imagination. things are
usually much worst inside of our minds,
so I’ll share with you the fears in mine:

clandestine hobbies that wreak havoc
on unexpected versions of my future self
in the most inopportune of moments,
simply since that’s just the way life works.

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Photo by Jamakassi on Unsplash

trance

there were never really any regrets
just this meticulous success that begets
a set of notions he sometimes suppressed.

and I am sorry for not understanding why
since I suppose I should certainly know,
of all people. possibly. it’s also probable

that perhaps it doesn’t matter much
because maybe most things don’t
matter much, meaning mondays

will almost always definitely suck.
because come time for monday, a lot
of us, quite frankly, don’t give a fuck.

and then there are those of us that do.
those that yearn; those that learn that
we have to earn the attention of the likes of you.

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Photo by Micki Spollen on Unsplash

 

Just Write – Depressive Thoughts

There’s a place I go when I close my eyes. I don’t know exactly where it is, or why I go there, but it exists and I do. A familiar environment that looks different every time I visit. My dreamscape. The place hidden behind my eyelids. This time, it wasn’t safe. I had to fight for survival earlier, but not before enjoying the benefits of interacting with other dreamers, me being lucid. Maybe…maybe it was my subconscious. Regardless, I knew I was asleep and made full use of my abilities. I think I got too excited and woke up early in the morning, but the depression put me right back to sleep.

I’ve…I have been feeling it a lot worse nowadays. Things that I have been trying to ignore are coming to the forefront. I was ignoring how I felt so well, only suffering briefly in moments that were real, but now? I feel terrible. They say your environment plays a part, but who knows. Part of me wants to just fix up this environment and get moving, but I don’t know if I’m capable. Rather, I’d rather indulge in the despair. Suffer first, reprieve later. All of the suffering is internal anyway. Looking at it, things are in my favor. There’s absolutely no other way to view it. Things aren’t the way I want them to be though…

I think that’s the issue. I don’t know what it is that I want. I don’t know what it is that I’m working toward. I have vague targets that I’m bound to hit and a general idea of what the future holds and the wherewithal to achieve those at a minimum. But my destination? That is the issue. Logically, I haven’t decided anything, but emotionally I have. I’ve tried to ignore it for the longest, but how could I? I seep nothing but emotion through my fingertips. It was for only so long that I could keep it from spilling into the places that it mattered: my head and my heart.

But who cares. I know thinking about it won’t change a thing. I know laying here won’t change a thing. I know feeling this won’t change a thing. Maybe that’s why the words I say won’t change a thing. I suppose it’s time for autopilot. To go back to the days where my body worked and my mind did not. I don’t think anyone could ever call that living, but it hurt a hell of a lot less. Given the internal circumstance, that’s the best I could ask for.

Expectations – Idle Thoughts

You know, I’m beginning to think I am starting to have expectations again. I don’t believe in those. The moment you have an expectation is the same moment in which you set yourself up for disappointment. Agree with me or don’t, I don’t really care either way, but let me ask you this: do you believe that this mindset leaves me bitter, sad and/or angry on a daily basis? I’ll give you the answer: it doesn’t. If that doesn’t make sense then that’s fine, but allow me to explain before you hold fast to your belief, either way, it swings.

An expectation is defined as a strong belief that something will happen. Typically, we expect that the sun will rise, we will wake, we will go on about our days, and then there will be a tomorrow with more of the same. Not the most glamorous description, but still true nonetheless. This is us expecting to live on a daily basis. There are very few reasons why we wouldn’t expect to wake up in the morning. Of course, not everything we expect is good. We all expect to die, we expect that most of us will have our hearts broken at least once, we even expect to get sick at some point in our lifetime. At least one of those things is guaranteed, but the rest of them are not. Due to our expectations, however, we begin to hold some of these things as a guarantee instead of a possibility.

Now I believe that whenever we expect something bad to happen and it doesn’t, there is always relief. It was a moment of stress you thought you had to face no matter what, and suddenly the entire incident is gone. Imaginary. There was nothing to worry about. It feels like a miracle and there is no greater feeling in the world. But the inverse? When something good we expect to happen does not? Well, all hell breaks loose. Our days go from great to terrible in an instant. Life is suddenly the most unfair force in the universe. Just to be clear, it always has been; it just never quite feels that way until things don’t go your way.

I’d like to clarify something now. When I say “something good,” I’m not referring to perfect birthday parties or even people keeping their promises. When I say good, I’m talking about basic things: that your car will start in the morning, that your shoes will stay tied the entire day. Things like the bus being on time or your significant other being in a good mood. These are good things that happen on a daily basis. Just because they have happened consistently without fail up to this point doesn’t mean that things won’t change tomorrow. We are all creatures of habit and history has a tendency to repeat itself, but things always going as planned or as expected is the exception, not the rule.

Keeping this in mind, imagine going through life with the expectation nothing you want to happen ever will, but everything you don’t want to happen is going to. As long as you don’t let despair settle into your soul, you will be fine. As long as you believe that you in control and capable of changing the things that are set in stone around to work in your favor, you will be fine. As long as you remember that sometimes the unexpected can be the most pleasant of surprises, then you will be fine. I don’t expect the world to be terrible. I just don’t expect it to be great. I get proven wrong each and every single day, and I am fine with that. It’s what I always hope for anyway.

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Photo by Drew Colins on Unsplash