I feel so special today. ^-^
One of my absolute favorite blogs is http://dearoptimists.com/ and guess what?
My story was posted here http://dearoptimists.com/2011/10/28/guest-post-kids-eating-kitty/
How exciting! And the talented Nadia brought some life and humor with her illustration. Thanks guys!
So now my day has started off great. Chai Tea Latte in hand and a guest post, I am so ready to decimate any negativity that’s thrown my way. ;P
The past few days I’ve been up rather late. Really late. I mean five hours of sleep sounds like a good amount, but I just can’t function off anything more or less than 7-8hrs. Coffee is wonderful during these times, but I get the espresso filled drinks from Starbucks such as their Americano or Iced Starbucks Double Shot. Those drinks tend to cause my body to shake with more energy than I really need. I mean I work in an office. I guess I could run to the mailbox….
Anyway my point being that I need to find a good balanced place for my mind to be, energy-wise that is. I’ve also been buying paydays lately and forgetting to eat them. Yesterday I had left one in my drawer at the office. I was pleasantly surprised to find it today. It was like a gift to myself 😄
This has happened twice and it’s always a welcomed surprise. ^-^
Stranded, a mind has no where to go, but back. Into the past, into the darkness that got it trapped in the first place. While it is on it’s way back, I invite you to read about a memory, something lovely, sweet, and painful. Abandoned. How did I end up abandoned?
A road, parallel to ours, created a path for the cars; for the people. All of them on their way to somewhere. Perhaps no where. Maybe here? Music provoking more thought. More thoughts of games once played. Songs I’d sing remembering the hills and grass as they would blur against my window. A window of memories. I’ve reached my hand into the glass before.
This is me. Soft reflection. Imperfections visible enough for me to notice them, and let them be.
A car window reveals more than I wish to know.
And I am sorry about that. Some thoughts I need to shuffle out before I sleep.
What does it mean to exist?
Is it easily explained away, as a similarity
a necessity to breathe?
At times I think perhaps, just maybe
we are not satisfied with the knowledge of our existence.
We need a little more.
To feel that we exist,
perhaps to hate,
to yell, to infuriate
just to know that life is still ticking.
To exist is to find, to see, to believe
We are three and will always be something different
Why use our existence to pick at truth.
to fight what gave us breath?
Existence in itself screams for our attention
Do we use the gift of existence
to help ourselves? is this right?
How does anything make sense, if it is as you say?
if we are all gods, if we are all right, then there is no justice.
There is no purpose.
and existence is wasted, drowned, suffocated in self pity.
But perhaps there is right and wrong? perhaps a God exists?
Will you use your breath to shout and insult, or to embrace ?
a face you cannot see, i do not understand why this confuses thee
perhaps I’m wrong, just maybe. But does not life itself crumble?
Does not history fizzle, and our hearts break at the thought
that there is only hell and nothing more?
A scoff, a glare, a laugh at me
trying so hard to kill what’s free
A Father gave his Son you see
To give us breath that we may breathe
People fail at things. Miss their goals and whatnot. Disappoint those around them. I felt like that recently. It was a result of my own procrastination, but I was slightly surprised by the out-pour of disappointment, of disgust in my failure by others. This has happened before of course, but when I accomplish something, anything, I get no more then a pat on the back, if any recognition at all. This is fine and hardly a problem, as failures can help one grow. It did however inspire a poem in which I felt… pretty much what the poem states:
It is fear
I cannot defeat
Failure seems to
How many times will I disappoint?
I thought I was safe, invisible…
But only my accomplishments go unseen
Its my worthlessness,
My Imperfections that
Gain your views.
How can I?
How can I stand when your stare
Weighs me down
Kill me with images
Of a girl lost
With no hand to hold onto
Or mind to spill her soul into,
No eyes to read
Just a small jagged stone lost
In the side of a mountain.
Who can see me?