Fall in

Fall into life some days. No need for practice or patience; just fall. Awkwardly, like a child attempting to walk. Like yourself attempting to walk so long ago.

All of us were once children. Innocent and curious. We were eager to experience that which the world had to offer us. Snowflakes that melted onto our noses, ovens that mother scolded us for getting too close to, other humans that were as tiny as we were. Other little children with big eyes and tiny hands, just as eager to explore the world as we once were. Just like us, they came into this world fumbling around, stomping furiously at the earth to claim their ability to walk no matter how many times they fell down. None of us studied or practiced walking; none of us waited until it was the right time to walk. We wanted to do so, and so we did. Granted we may have fallen and hurt ourselves a few times and cried a few times more. But, here we all are: walking.

So why we prevent ourselves from achieving new goals? Why is it that everyone is working towards their dreams, but few are living it? I refuse to believe that only some people are capable and others are not. If that were true, it’d be common to see people crawling around on the streets, waiting for the perfect time to attempt to stand. I hope that image in your mind is as ridiculous as it sounds because that’s honestly what is happening right now at this very moment. People are crawling around, waiting for the right time to claim their dream. The crawling itself isn’t bad. Before we fly we must first crawl. The frustration lies in this fact: Very few people attempt to walk, for fear of falling down and looking like an idiot. What we need to understand is that it’s okay to fall. Falling is actually quite necessary. You wouldn’t know what not to do if you didn’t fall flat on your ass as a child. There are some things you just won’t learn until you attempt to do something for yourself.

Of course, as we get older, we learn that we can avoid pain by treading precariously in paths already paved out for us. In fact, it’s perfectly fine to learn from the mistakes of others so that you don’t repeat them. What you can’t learn from others, though, is the experience. To be authentic, one must earnestly display qualities that could not be manufactured by society but are instead achieved through hard work and grit. Truthfully? That isn’t always a pretty process. I fell down as a child. I have scars on my body from playing sports too hard or making stupid decisions. But do I regret it? Of course not. I don’t regret falling over a few times as a child because now I can stand proudly on my own two legs. The only attribution I need to give in regards to my ability to walk is to myself. For all of you, it’s the same. We made our success through our own hard work, and that is truly wonderful. We crawl, we stand, we step, we run, we fall. Today we may fall flat on our asses, but tomorrow we will soar.



Every day, many precious seconds are wasted. Time is tossed casually down the drain. All the time that we claim to never have? It lies at our feet– wasted; unable to ever be used again. It’s quite a shame, but I’m definitely guilty of it. A life of consumption spent contemplating production from the safety of a moment where things are quite often easier said than done. It’s tiring. Watching the world talk big shit on its way down, only to realize that you’re heading down right along with it. That isn’t even the worst part. Coupled closely with our defeated pride on the spiral downward is desire. You see, desires tend to be locked into brief moments of time, only ever really surfacing whenever there are any triggers. I suppose, however, that’s what makes it a desire. A want. Arbitrary feelings, akin to envy, towards an ideal or object that you want in the moment. Passion…now that is an entirely different beast in itself. I know passion. Where Desire lacks in reason and substance, Passion flourishes, flaunting its agency.

It’s passion that keeps you up ’til 3AM, working tirelessly until consciousness fades from you. Then that same Passion that burned like a candle throughout the night shines as bright as a sun itself on your face only a couple of hours later; teasing you into wakefulness with the promise of many more hours spent working on what you love. That’s where most people have got it wrong. They think that you’ve wasted your night away, working tirelessly for nothing. What they don’t understand is that, when passion is involved, that time spent is never wasted. To desire is to want something, from a distance. But Passion…it is more than a simple want.

Everyone has dreams. Everyone has some goal that, supposedly, they are working towards achieving. They talk big talk and believe they exude greatness, but the one thing that separates those that are great from the rest of us that are simply mediocre is this: resolve. We all have the potential for greatness, but few of us make concrete plans to achieve it. Even fewer put those plans into action. Even fewer, still, are those that endure the adversity that is bound to appear in the pursuit of self-improvement.

Deep within those that struggle for something better, however, is passion, burning bright and burning long. It isn’t something that you’re born with. It isn’t something that you can learn. Passion is the resolve you have to work tirelessly towards a goal that seems to become more impossible to achieve the closer you get to it because, for you, it matters.

It is easy to make an excuse for yourself. I’m not trying to invalidate your reasons for not attaining the results you desire in life. I’m sure your reasons are legitimate, just as I feel mine are. That said, we are all guilty of wasting precious time that could propel us forward to things we want, all for the sake of rest, or a peace of mind, or because it isn’t time yet. That perfect moment that we’re all waiting for? It’s sitting in shambles at our feet. The collective seconds we have wasted, all amounting to hours, days even. Entire days allowed to waste away as we fantasize about all the things we’d love to do– if only I had the time.


Astral Adventures: Somber Winters

The temperature is low. It’s cold. Very cold, actually. It isn’t too cold though. Not that it matters. I can’t feel anything. I mean, not like this anyway. Being away from my body and all. I know it’s cold, but I can’t really feel it. Not that the cold even matters anymore. It’s all I know now…. I’ve been wandering the city for a while. Not too sure when I ended up here, or why I’m even here for that matter. As far as I can understand, I’m just a wandering soul and nothing else.

An empty soul looking for something to fill itself with. I’m pathetic, but who even cares? None of it even matters. The snow is beautiful, though. Small flakes of pristine alabaster-like jewels falling from the heavens down upon us. I’m sure it’s nothing but the tears of angels who pity us. Their tears are only enhanced by the lustrous bits of sunlight that have managed to kiss this place we call earth, attempting to warm our hearts so we don’t feel the cold. It is saddening. It’s depressing. The brilliance of the light causes me to realize just how beautiful the somber winter nights really are– not that it matters.

Beauty is pointless. It’s not like anyone really gives a damn about it at all. It’s such a shame. Just the thought fills me to the brim with tears. Heads are to the ground and people are lost in their phones; it’s not so much as the beauty of those around them that distracts people anymore. They just don’t care about anything else. Even as the sun sets, amassing a spectacular load of visual glory just at the horizon, it means nothing to the denizens of earth. Sunset for them translates to _sunglasses off_; it’s just another moment that has passed. A single moment in the vast expanse of the many to come. No one seems to understand that it’s a moment that’s lost forever. The sun may set again, but everyday, it only sets once.

My heart aches. Misery is my indulgence, and I am addicted. It’s beautiful though. Tragedy, that is. In all of your wellness, you take for granted everything: your ability to breath, to walk, to see. Pain helps you to appreciate the small things in life. Pain is what helps you see beauty and realize how fragile things are. In all of my time, those in abundance never realize how lucky they are. Only the faces of the deprived lighten at the sight of the beauty they’ve been denied all of their life.

If deprivation is all it takes, then I hope for many tragedy filled somber winters.

Words Unfiltered: Nightly writing

I think I’ll start doing my writing at night from now on. It flows better with my schedule. I have the time then, and I’m often up. My insomnia is back, more or less, to varying degrees. However, it’s nothing serious. I still sleep better than I used to. Of course, there is a pile of drafts saved in my WordPress that I just changed to scheduled. No one probably believes me though. You’ll see when you see, that’ll be my proof. But let’s talk about something else. I’ve been enjoying school. It’s a little difficult, but only really because of my poor study habits. Sure, there are topics that are hard to grasp, but I try at the very least. I usually am able to absorb information more or less with ease. It’s been about 4 weeks of school so far? I like it. I mean, I haven’t been able to do some of the things I like, but that’s more so my fault more than anything, right?

As I said earlier, my insomnia is back, though not as bad as it used to be. I manage to get around 4-5 hours of sleep at least, though I can average 6-7 during the week now. I’m often up until around 1 in the morning though. I don’t think it affects me too much, considering I’ve been able to force myself to sleep until about 11 on the weekends sometimes.* That also reminds me, I’ve been having some strange semi-lucid dreams as of recent.

I’ve been doing math and chemistry during my state of half consciousness while I’m still asleep, but am aware of dreaming and near awakening. I can say that it is a direct impact of me practicing and making sure I am ready for my exams and quizzes in college for sure. However, I’m not too sure how useful it is. I know the chemistry I was doing last night wasn’t making much sense (though it did vaguely relate to the work we are currently doing). I wonder if I’ll do it again tonight. I can say that the dreams themselves were random, but I was consciously trying to solve problems by the time I was getting read to wake up.

Huge topic change, but I can do that; I’ve revisited this game called ingress. For those of you who don’t know what it is, look it up. Maybe I’ll make a post about it sometime later, but not now. Right now? it’s 12:37 in the morning, and I have a chemistry lab at 8:35 am. I’m listening to Pandora, and preparing to lay down and hopefully enjoy my thoughts. That’s always the hardest part of going to bed.  I won’t delve into that now though. Once you get the bad thoughts rolling, they keep on coming throughout the night.

I’ve missed writing. And I’ve missed you all. I’m trying

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.

*I don’t know if I mentioned this (probably not), but it’s almost virtually impossible for me to sleep past noon. My body can’t handle laying in bed for so long, and by the time it’s 11, my mind has been spurring so much that the sleep wasn’t all too useful anyway.

Words Unfiltered: Mental agony

I mean I just don’t know how to handle it. I feel like I’m going to explode under the pressure. How can anybody live like this? Images of destruction fill my mind, and I can’t sleep. I torture myself with thoughts of oblivion, finding myself half-way gone at the most mundane of moments. Suspended in time, realizing I’m nothing but a bout of insignificance floating through meaningless space– I mean, what is even real? How can I know? My heart wants to believe one thing, and my mind isn’t quite sure what to believe. Nothing is logical. I’ve gotten to the point where I realize that everything is pointless, but I can’t think like that.

Just busy yourself in the moment and don’t think. It’s gotten you this far.  I think to myself. It’s all I can do to protect my sanity. The sanity I cling to so dearly. The sanity that I refuse to believe is lost.  I’m trying to protect myself from being broken. In hindsight, things aren’t clear regardless. Maybe I’m broken, maybe I’m not. It’s gotten to a point where I don’t know anything anymore.

When did the sweet solace of solitude became a daily mental agony that I must endure? When I find more comfort in worldly stress and worries than I do in peace, something must have snapped. Or maybe something clicked, and I realized that this tangible world, however fucked up it is, is the world I live in. This world is mine. I see the world through my eyes, and I am afraid to die.

Or maybe it’s death that I crave. I really don’t know anymore. I’m in love. As long as I have a reason, I’ll continue to hold this moment called a life dearly. I’m fearful of all that’s to come, or maybe of the things that have already come to pass. Who knows. Maybe it’s all already happened, and we just haven’t realized it yet. Either way, I’m waiting for something. What exactly? I don’t know. The brief moments of happiness are worth living for.

A lifetime of pain and suffering in exchange for the brief time that we actually can enjoy our lives. I suppose that’s all life really is. A chance to smile. A chance that you wouldn’t have otherwise. I’m certain that I am alive, but I really can’t be certain of anything. I guess it’s the uncertainty that terrifies me. Even still, with uncertainty comes hope. Maybe the thing I desire to know won’t have the answer that brings comfort. With certainty, I may be screwed. But, everything is uncertain.

Anything can happen. Things will happen, and I guess that’s the beauty of life.

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.

Words Unfiltered: Just Write

Junior and Senior year of high school I had AP literature and AP language and composition. In both of those classes, on certain days, we’d do something called “Just write.” Basically, it was free writing which is pretty similar to my words unfiltered series. Sometimes there is a set topic, sometimes there isn’t. We always had a choice of what we wanted to writing about regardless of what was up there. A lot of the times I’d just write the first thing that came to mind and I’d keep on going until I couldn’t or until I was told to stop, whichever came first. Sometimes I’d write a poem, other times a story, other times I’d just write words or my literal thoughts. I really didn’t like it too much initially. Sometimes it’s hard to write things when you’re given a topic that you might not like or know well, but you always knew where to start. With this, there was a lot of freedom, and sometimes too much freedom actually makes doing things harder.

I mean, if you could do literally anything you wanted to do, I’m sure you’d strive to do the best possible, but let’s be a bit more realistic. If you could choose to do anything you wanted to do, with no guarantee of success or satisfaction, what would you do? We see real life examples of this every day and every year. In regards to college, unless you have a strong disposition towards a certain area or college already, you might find it difficult to pick one, especially if there is no one to help you. With so many choices available, you’re always afraid of making the wrong one or one that you simply might regret. There are so many factors, and sometimes you see the good in a lot of choices and it makes it impossible for you to narrow your choices down. Being given some suggestions, however, could greatly help the process. My chemistry teacher in high school told me that, when I talked to her about freedom of choice, the number of choices that people can have while still feeling like they have freedom but not being overwhelmed by their choices is 3.

I know that they may seem limiting, and I personally believe it is, but take a look at it this way: when you have hundreds of options to choose from, how do you have any idea of knowing what you should pick? A lot of people ask others for advice, and those people help narrow things down to a manageable number of choices. Having some sense of direction, it’s easier to figure out what you want to do/buy/whatever. Another idea I have is to simply break things down into categories. Instead of asking, “What university or college out of every single one in the world would you like to attend?,” questions that help narrow choices down should be asked. “Do you want to stay in state or out of state?” “Do you want a small school, a medium sized school, or a large school?” I know that several sites do this for colleges, and things like amazon have these options out there for people to use, but it can go unnoticed. A lot of people don’t use advanced search settings or select categories for many reasons. But I suppose if we tried to help people who can’t seem to make decision by asking them questions like these, things would run a bit smoother.

Of course, life is how it is. There really is no issue in regards to how people choose things, but this would certainly make things easier. I, however, have no idea what I’m talking about anymore.

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.

You mad bro? No really, why?

One thing that I don’t understand too well is anger. I understand that it’s an aggressive emotional response to things, and is quite the opposite of sadness, but what I don’t seem to understand is why people are always so angry. I seriously can’t remember the last time I’ve been angry. That being said, I am a very patient person when it comes to dealing with other people, and not much bothers me life. I suppose I’ve come to accept that there are things out of my control that probably will happen that I won’t like. However, I feel like getting angry is a waste of time and energy if it can be avoided.

People react to things differently though. In a lot of instances where some may view anger as an appropriate response, some people may get sad. But what I don’t understand is excessive anger for almost no reason at all. Prime example*: when I was younger, my mother always wanted the dishes to be washed before she got home from work. I usually made sure it was all done, but I was asleep most of the day on this particular event. When I got up, the dishes were washed, and the house was clean, so I figured everything was fine. When my mother came in, she started screaming about the dishes not being washed. Running into the kitchen, this is what I found: A single spoon that my brother had used to eat some peanut butter was the only thing in the sink. I found this to be a little unreasonable, and I really don’t understand why she got angry.

Another thing that I actually really bothered me was an encounter my ex-girlfriend had with a friend of hers. They were at a college orientation and they got there separately with their parents. The friend had gotten there earlier than my ex, so she had already seen some of the campus and looked at some of the things there. When my ex called her, her friend said something along the lines of “…Oh yeah, and if you haven’t already, I’d advise you to go to the academic office….” Not too long after, my ex called me complaining. She was angry at her friend because of– are you ready for it?– the fact that she said “advise.” Apparently, she felt like her friend was talking down on her, but that girl was helpless and a little bit clueless. I am more than 100% sure that she meant nothing by her word choice at all except to try and help out my ex.

Aside from that, there is also another small reason why I don’t like anger: It makes me anxious. Growing up with my mother and dealing with her random outburst of anger has made me uncomfortable with the emotion. When it’s someone I know and interact with often, anger tends to put me on edge. It makes me wonder if there is anything I did wrong or if there is some way I can escape my environment. Alas, anger is not something I am comfortable with. But, as with all things in life, I simply have to deal with it.

Until tomorrow, or next time, whichever comes first.
*This is, sadly, true. Looking back though, it is kind of funny.