So what if my writing sometimes refuses to go any deeper than surface level and touch all the raw, sore spots, the gaping wounds, imprinted onto me by the egopinions of everyone but myself? Maybe I’m just tired of pain, and the remains of my own ego seek to shield me from the traumas of …
How’s life? I don’t really know, I – Can I get back to you on that? I’ve been writing about it in my mind of what it is, what it could be, what it has been and there are vast imbalances between its scales. But this story isn’t done yet so I just keep writing …
Being of light that appeals to the lucidity of my dreams came to me the other night and said the world needs to know your story… Funny, the other night I couldn’t even remember – When I woke up grasping at twilight’s fading straws; But today, it was clear as the bell ringing my subconscious …
My body is not your home, you can’t just leave all your…things here, and come and go as you please; They leave with you if you’re leaving – they only stay if I choose to agree. My mind is not your dumpster – You can’t fill it with all your junk and expect me to …
Each drop of water is precious, Each has been here before. Every drop of water is timeless, they are souls that return again and again not to the worlds they know, but to the worlds they are, that are within them. Always here, whether as rain, dew, lake, ocean, sea – Whether they fall from the heavens …
I think I’m ready now to face down my shadows; The ones that burrow deep and that I attempt to run and hide from even in my sleep. I’m not afraid of what they’ll reveal, not even fearful of what they’ll make me feel. I don’t worry about how they’ve marred my soul – I determined long …
Sometimes, I just sit and allow myself to feel deeply the emotional agitation and pain and sorrow that I absorb from others as I progress through my days and allow to blend with my own… And I hurt for every soul who knows and endures such agony… Then I release it screaming to the edges …
Dinner tonight was Ben & Jerry’s and a shot of rum; Not melancholy or troubled, not even stressed. Just…reminding myself that sometimes it’s okay to eat and drink things that are bad for me for the good of my own pleasure. Now and again, indulgence is necessary. And besides, why in the hell would I …
I never get to write when I want, someone always has a need – And I bleached my favorite layering shirt It only sorta kinda hurt. I may need a cup of tea. Or maybe a little time for me; Could be that I’m internalizing anxiety and worry – still meditating, but lately, in a …
Dreams are both perplexity and marvel, I’m still learning to understand how such wispy fragments of subconsciousness, subtle forces of will so intrepidly insert themselves into a memory or thought as though it actually happened, or…could. And how the mind so ably creates such vast space to transcend, to exist within, to unify with imagination. …
Poetry, story and real life. Once soldier, busnessman, grandfather and Poet.
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