Tag Archives: thoughts

Easy Beliefs

a stylized yellow and orange sun over a patchwork green field

It’s easy to believe:
that this is it
it’s all over.

Optimism foolish,
and hope a meager meal.
Seeing a pattern of life defeated:
prevailing winds all sailed.

Much harder is the challenge
to recover, to rebuild
to end the cycled brooding
where harvests never yield.

And it surely doesn’t help
that complexity seems fraught
little nooks and crannies
that only seem to rot.

Yes, simplicity is charming
like an easy winning smile.
It can seem a deft decision
to prune away denial.

But shutting off and shutting down
just mimes an early death,
barely meeting definition,
of fire taking breath.

And it would also be mistaken:
to paint a happy-lucky wash
grimness has its uses
to avoid perspective lost.

Oh, but it’s overwhelming
the grinding of this wheel
scraping skin and breaking backs
under boots of steel.

Which is all the reason
to keep the bridges open
to bind and knit the friendships
that soothe us when we’re swollen.

Because there are no saviors
no single points of success or failure
instead its threes and fours of us
that move this stubborn glacier.

No, it’s not quite the end
not this partial apocalyptic;
we humans still have centuries
despite naysayed insistence.

Hope is still the worthwhile choice
with meaningful resistance
neighbors helping neighbors
mutually aided persistence.

Foggy Mornings, Additional Musings

Foggy Mornings

And Additional Musings

When the day is young, still
When the fog rolls in
When the morning light is dim
When my mind is lost
In lingering dreams, my friends

When the forest is too overgrown
When the underbrush is thick
When the wooded trail is lost
When each footfall breaks wrists
And promises speak of death

There is the hopeless
Then is the moment lost
That is the breaking point
Before barriers are crossed

Then is the moment
Where solutions make sense
Whether or not
They can provide a defense

Why should we rely
On the infallible thought
That we can try
And figure it out

But in those gloomy places
With just the right lie
There’s still a torch to see
A pretty face
Or a project to be
A mental construction
A glimmer beckoning

And maybe, perhaps
It’s just an illusion
But believe in illusion
Until it must be

 

Avoidance

Something cold trickles down, drips, catches
Sits, waits, becomes a weight
Heavy, heavier, the heaviest thing
It’s bearing down
It’s listening

A thought that hammers repeatedly
It bothers, needles, breaks skin
Digs down and burrows in
Becomes the truth
Despite denial

Oh denial, oh its relief
The promise it offers of unchanging
How can I stop who I have been?
When it took so long to learn to be

Acceptance is good, isn’t it great?
You can be yourself
You can let the world in
You can alienate all of your friends

So patch the dam as it cracks
Bulges, creaks under that weight
Just ignore what might be
Take the comfort
Of not reckoning

Avoid the searching of who and why
The state of not, doing a thing
Stalling, stalled, a stall that breaks wings
Keep the secret
Down within

 

Caught

They caught me on the doorstep
One Saturday evening
We were arm-in-arm
Secret kissing

Some secrets are joyful
A happy surprise
A dramatic reveal
That pleases
Assures
And Complies

But those aren’t the best secrets
The best secrets draw blood
They drew blood
Because of a secret
They broke hearts
And you lie

Conformity breeds liars
You have to fit in
But if you don’t?
If you won’t?
Then you learn to fib.

Honesty is for the normal
Honestly for shapeshifters
They fit in a box
Because they were poured in

But what of the misshapen?
The ones that can’t melt
Or those that refuse
Because that’s not being yourself

Then? A choice.
A statement.
Of life:
A constant fight
Or a constant fib

 

Never

She took a step and stopped
Looked at me, quizzical
The question wasn’t why
It was not a question
An accusation

And I couldn’t take it
I couldn’t refuse
Love was easier
Than hate

But who wrote the rules?
And when do they break?
When did the moment pass
Where someone had been hurt?

I didn’t succumb
I overcame
But to an outside viewer
They were one and the same

The challenges are breathless
Wordless
Weeping
Choices

And those choices, daggers that cut different
Hurt self or someone else
Any choice is deafening
When an expression of self

Cliques: The Importance of a Writing Circle

Clique to Continue

Double-Clique to ???

The Lost Generation found each other to create their own popularity.

Aw but that’s a bit of an over-simplification isn’t it? Alright. Accepted. Generalizing anything into one distinct statement is Bad. Capital B. Intricacies are lost in simplicity. But then again, maybe that’s Good? Capital G. Are intricacies really all that important?

Yes! Yes we shout? We must understand the details. Get into the nitty gritty specifics on even the little bitty. Oh. But who has the time? How can you possibly get into the weeds about everything that exists? There’s simply too much, and not enough of me, nor you, to know everything. But of course not. There’s not enough time for anything, so let’s do nothing instead. Anyway, you’re a nerd if you’re really into something. I mean, nerds are cool now, so maybe that’s alright. So go ahead. Get good at something in particular. But not too good, because that’s also bad? Specialize just enough in something that you aren’t a Mary Sue. Except Batman?

Broad sweeping brush strokes are a stylistic choice that some artists use to evoke much through abstraction. Abstraction is an interesting thing to think about. We abstract to understand. And then? Once we understand the abstraction, we abstract the abstraction so that we can understand even more. Programming is great at abstraction. It’s all about taking something and encapsulating that something into something else until you have to do less to get more while hiding the fact that you did anything at all. Ask a programmer what took four hours and watch them cry. I like to think of it like the gas pedal of a car. You press on a pedal and the car moves forward. That is a lie. So is the following: All humans are murderers.

We accept some abstractions, but not others, because some are offensive.

But back on subject, which is that the Lost Generation were a group of creators that interacted to some extent and made beautiful things. How’s the saying go? “Surround yourself with greatness, and you’ll get jealous quickly?” But it’s inspiring. Sure. But it pushes you further. Farther. Sure. One of the best pieces of advice I’ve heard in a while is that you should find someone’s work that you can’t help but imitate, and then try to be better than that. Try to be better than someone else. Yet. We are all equal, and be humble.

Balance. Is boring.

If you have a clique you will be more successful. Active social interaction helps things, and people, do better. Unfortunately, that better may worsen something for someone else. Give here, take there. Either way, you gotta group together to survive. That’s a basic thing. Cavemen did it and so do we. Not that they all really lived in caves, right? But don’t hang out with more than 150 of those people at once. We gotta have meaningful relationships or you’re just being promiscuous. Speaking of meaningful, the articles with meaningful data, meaningful research, and great information are all behind paywalls that require hefty sums. That sucks.

So. What a predicament we’re in as people that all want to be successful. That’s impossible. We can’t all be successful. Plus. In order to be successful you’d need to pool your resources together with a bunch of other people that want to be successful in the same way. And you all probably have to agree on some of the directions you’ll take at the same exact time! At least for a little while.

What’s the tipping point? It’s a myth. There is no tipping point. There is no breaking point where things begin to cascade. Have you ever played one of those quarter machines? Coin pushers? Wait. That’s wrong. There is a tipping point. Things do cascade. Once they’re already cascading? Luck can be made though.

Get enough people together, in one spot, to do one thing, and you will change something. We want to believe that this is a truth. But it is a lie as well. It is an abstraction of what actually happens. It grossly ignores the work and effort that goes into actual change. Unfortunately, we can’t all just spontaneously change.

I remember the day I stopped believing in prayer. I remember lying in bed and wondering about what I wanted to pray for. We should pray for good things to happen to other people, right? Pray for world peace. Pray for that dude over there to get his leg healed. Pray for that lady to get a better job or at least a raise. Give here, take there. Someone else prayed for another dude to get that same job. We can’t all be successful. But prayer is a great placebo. And more.

Certainties are helpful. They help us get along in the world so that we can keep on walking. Doubt is crippling. But, be skeptical. How much so? Should we believe in anything? Absolutely. Just believe in yourself. Be certain that you exist and that you can Do. After all, you’re breathing. But… There’s always a butt.

Join up with a bunch of people and do your damned best to follow a dream. Find a community that’s online, or next door, or down the street, or maybe it’s made up of four houses and a mythical boy with a lightning-bolt scar. Being part of something is crucial to facing loneliness and accepting that maybe loneliness isn’t always bad. Try everything at least once?

Eventually your dream will change, or someone else’s dream will change that you used to depend on to help carry your dream. But that’s not bad. Losing a friend, or a family member, or a dream, is good. It means you are progressing. It hurts. It makes me want to curl up under a blanket and stare at the hidden nothing behind my eyelids. Eventually I’ll start to think again. Perchance to dream.

Dreaming is good. Changing your dream is good as long as you keep dreaming. I want to dream of great things and magnificent achievements and wondrous  journeys that are impossible to ever achieve. And that impossibility is fine.

 

-J.A.

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