I talk a lot about love.
(too much)
It matters.
It matters in how you love, the way you move.
It matters in small panting breaths,
In deep conversations,
In touch and lack thereof.
Love the way you need to love,
To be loved.
Love is far too powerful to be contained
(more powerful than anything else)
What things can love overcome?
(a better question)
What things can't love overcome?
So I talk a lot about love,
Catching coattails and chasing fluff,
Speaking nonsense and understanding that surpasses words.
(love is in the silences)
There's nothing quite like capital-I It, love's essences,
Subtle and simple and perfect.
Count it.
I talk a lot about love.
(it's not too much)
More like,
(not enough)
love's infinite power.
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Friday, April 24, 2015
How I use beautiful:
Beautiful is on the inside.
It means kind, compassionate, intelligent.
It means brilliant, someone to be amazing.
Beautiful is not an outer thing.
How I see hands:
Hands are tools.
To see them dance is amazing, wonderful.
To see the motion of gestures means words are easier to understand.
Hands are creative.
Perhaps I need to stop reading blogs.
I do want to go somewhere with that idea of hands.
Beautiful is on the inside.
It means kind, compassionate, intelligent.
It means brilliant, someone to be amazing.
Beautiful is not an outer thing.
How I see hands:
Hands are tools.
To see them dance is amazing, wonderful.
To see the motion of gestures means words are easier to understand.
Hands are creative.
Perhaps I need to stop reading blogs.
I do want to go somewhere with that idea of hands.
Thursday, April 23, 2015
Quiz Results
Remember when I did a lot of quizzes? here's some more... with thoughts on their accuracy!
Well, I am kind. Or at least I try :3 So I'd say this is pretty accurate.. though I'm embarrassed to say as such xD Don't wanna come off as arrogant, y'know?
Not so sure on this one. I'm curious and I do know things I'd rather not know :P But I'm not so sneaky. Then again, I CAN disappear in a crowd. But I'm never morally dubious... always passive though :P
I dream big and have ideals I follow through on! I do feel like a visionary,.. not sure I can make my dreams happen though.
As for being too busy... love is my dream. Romantic love, acceptance of all, compassion, etc, so there's that. There's also the fact that your friends, family, and significant other NEED to have high positions in your life.
Truth about the money, though I'd never be insulted by it xD And I want to change the world... one person at a time.
Hehe, I like this one! It's totally true, too XD I love it. LOVE. IT.
This is pretty true. I'm happy with myself most of the time. Currently I love AND hate myself, so I'm working on just loving myself.
But this feels accurate to me.
SO, ta da, quiz results. Feel free to share yours :P
| You Are Kind |
 You watch and understand people well. You know what each person in your life really needs. You are a natural peacemaker and a truly good friend. You bring people together. You are patient with others and willing to give them the benefit of doubt. You get along with almost everyone. |
| You Are a Raccoon |
 You are also very sneaky. You can blend in when you need to, and no one really knows what you are up to. At times, you can be morally dubious. You're willing to do a lot to get ahead, even if it means stepping on other people's toes. You are generally passive and tend to work behind the scenes. But if someone challenges you, you get downright nasty! |
| You Are Violet |
 And unlike most visionaries, you actually have the charm, charisma, and flair for drama that inspires others into action. In love, you are very passionate but quite scattered. You're too busy with your dreams to give someone all your time. Your ideal partner is someone who buys into your vision. You want someone who is willing to work by your side. At work, it is never about the money, no matter how much dough you are offered. In fact, throwing money at you may insult you. You work to change the world, even if it's one person at a time. If your work doesn't have meaning, you'll lose interest. |
I dream big and have ideals I follow through on! I do feel like a visionary,.. not sure I can make my dreams happen though.
As for being too busy... love is my dream. Romantic love, acceptance of all, compassion, etc, so there's that. There's also the fact that your friends, family, and significant other NEED to have high positions in your life.
Truth about the money, though I'd never be insulted by it xD And I want to change the world... one person at a time.
| Your Love Life is Like The Princess Bride |
 For you, love is like a fairy tale - albeit a fairly twisted one. You believe romance is all about loyalty, fate, and a good big of goofy fun. Your love style: Idealistic yet quirky Your Hollywood Ending Will Be: Perfectly romantic |
Hehe, I like this one! It's totally true, too XD I love it. LOVE. IT.
| You Are a Green Crayon |
 While some may associate green with money, you are one of the least materialistic people around. Comfort is important to you. You like to feel as relaxed as possible - and you try to make others feel at ease. You're very happy with who you are, and it certainly shows! Your color wheel opposite is red. Every time you feel grounded, a red person does their best to shake you. |
This is pretty true. I'm happy with myself most of the time. Currently I love AND hate myself, so I'm working on just loving myself.
But this feels accurate to me.
SO, ta da, quiz results. Feel free to share yours :P
Shower Song
They never told me life would be easy,
But they never said life would be this hard.
No wonder people give up,
When they are so permanently scarred.
You can't succeed with jealousy,
Which takes all your ambition away.
You can't be an enititled fool,
Believing things should be a certain way.
I never said life would be easy,
But I never thought it would be this hard.
We are all broken pieces,
Even deep inside our hearts.
Some would argue compassion is not the way to go,
But the redwoods would be much smaller
If their roots did not tangle together, you know -
And dance competitions are a way to get a mate,
And at the end of the day, no hard feelings, ey?
I never assumed life would be easy,
But I never dreamed it would be this hard.
No wonder giving up looks like a good prospect.
But if there's one thing I know,
Kindness is the way to go.
If I care for others,
They will care for me.
Everyone can go strong,
Scientific proof says:
Love one another,
It's not just a Christian thing.
Love one another,
It's not just a Christian thing.
But they never said life would be this hard.
No wonder people give up,
When they are so permanently scarred.
You can't succeed with jealousy,
Which takes all your ambition away.
You can't be an enititled fool,
Believing things should be a certain way.
I never said life would be easy,
But I never thought it would be this hard.
We are all broken pieces,
Even deep inside our hearts.
Some would argue compassion is not the way to go,
But the redwoods would be much smaller
If their roots did not tangle together, you know -
And dance competitions are a way to get a mate,
And at the end of the day, no hard feelings, ey?
I never assumed life would be easy,
But I never dreamed it would be this hard.
No wonder giving up looks like a good prospect.
But if there's one thing I know,
Kindness is the way to go.
If I care for others,
They will care for me.
Everyone can go strong,
Scientific proof says:
Love one another,
It's not just a Christian thing.
Love one another,
It's not just a Christian thing.
Conventional Intelligence Is Not the Only Intelligence and Animals are as Smart as Humans (mostly)
WARNING: Cussing, talking about presuming competence and not assuming a living creature (human or otherwise) is stupid. Authority taking advantage of being authority. Normally I don't put warnings, but the first words of this post is the f-word and I do want to give a low down about what I'll be discussing on this post. At some point I'll probably add warnings to past posts that might discuss controversial subjects. Or jerkiness. Poems will forever be warning free, however, so read those with caution.
Fuck you, Mr. Droege.
Fuck you, bastards and idiots who pretend that you know everything and that everyone who is the slightest bit different is stupid.
Conventional intelligence of a+b=c and a big vocabulary is not the only intelligence. So stop. You're doing it wrong when you assume a cat cannot understand things because they are a cat.
Americans only bother with learning English in a global community; at least other places learn a foreign language by default. So when you say cats are stupid I am pissed. off. And reasonably so.
You are saying that human language is the only way to communicate when you act as if you know a cat's mind. And you do it with other humans too; autistics, or people who might be in comas, or whatever.
Fuck you.
Fuck you because you are so fucking wrong I have no WORDS for it. No. Words. That's why, me with my aversion to the f-word, is saying it repeatedly.
Because you are wrong.
And how dare you cut me off when I am making you feel uncomfortable. When I have a decent argument and you won't let me say it because you know I've thought about these things. Yeah, Mr. Droege, you have abused your power. Yes, it was off topic, but you let other people say their piece on off-topic subjects! You even made sure they were finished before cutting them off. So why me?
Why me? Why am I the one who gets punished for standing up for myself? Why am I the one who is always talked to when it's clearly the other person's fault? Why am I the one who is blamed and punished even when the accusation is out of character for me?
So fuck you, Mr. Droege. Fuck all you teachers in the past who have assumed children aren't intelligent, who have presumed that you should punish the well-behaved one when the one who misbehaves is impossible fuck you all.
Fuck you all the authority figures who allow your children and your pets to suffer because you can't get your shit together. If I've learned anything from my blog-reading kick of autism blogs, it's that kids are smart and behavior is communication - for all species.
Fuck you, whole wide world. You're not fair and you're not just and you're not merciful. If you're none of those, then no wonder people commit suicide. No. Fucking. Wonder.
(PS, I'm not going back to philosophy class. I'm not going to any detentions I may get. I am done.)
And, because there are people I love, thank you to those of you who do it right. Thank you to the people who speak up. You're the reason that there aren't as many suicides. Every person who chooses life, its because of decent people like you. The authority who doesn't hurt. The activists who love. Thank you for those of you who care even when it's hard. Thank you.
Fuck you, Mr. Droege.
Fuck you, bastards and idiots who pretend that you know everything and that everyone who is the slightest bit different is stupid.
Conventional intelligence of a+b=c and a big vocabulary is not the only intelligence. So stop. You're doing it wrong when you assume a cat cannot understand things because they are a cat.
Americans only bother with learning English in a global community; at least other places learn a foreign language by default. So when you say cats are stupid I am pissed. off. And reasonably so.
You are saying that human language is the only way to communicate when you act as if you know a cat's mind. And you do it with other humans too; autistics, or people who might be in comas, or whatever.
Fuck you.
Fuck you because you are so fucking wrong I have no WORDS for it. No. Words. That's why, me with my aversion to the f-word, is saying it repeatedly.
Because you are wrong.
And how dare you cut me off when I am making you feel uncomfortable. When I have a decent argument and you won't let me say it because you know I've thought about these things. Yeah, Mr. Droege, you have abused your power. Yes, it was off topic, but you let other people say their piece on off-topic subjects! You even made sure they were finished before cutting them off. So why me?
Why me? Why am I the one who gets punished for standing up for myself? Why am I the one who is always talked to when it's clearly the other person's fault? Why am I the one who is blamed and punished even when the accusation is out of character for me?
So fuck you, Mr. Droege. Fuck all you teachers in the past who have assumed children aren't intelligent, who have presumed that you should punish the well-behaved one when the one who misbehaves is impossible fuck you all.
Fuck you all the authority figures who allow your children and your pets to suffer because you can't get your shit together. If I've learned anything from my blog-reading kick of autism blogs, it's that kids are smart and behavior is communication - for all species.
Fuck you, whole wide world. You're not fair and you're not just and you're not merciful. If you're none of those, then no wonder people commit suicide. No. Fucking. Wonder.
(PS, I'm not going back to philosophy class. I'm not going to any detentions I may get. I am done.)
And, because there are people I love, thank you to those of you who do it right. Thank you to the people who speak up. You're the reason that there aren't as many suicides. Every person who chooses life, its because of decent people like you. The authority who doesn't hurt. The activists who love. Thank you for those of you who care even when it's hard. Thank you.
Monday, April 20, 2015
The Moreness of Writing
When you write, you are more.
I can't exactly explain the "moreness" to you, but if you're a writer, you understand. In the same way that I am never writing the stories I dare to call mine, but the characters are. I am an instrument of creation fueled by a force I couldn't explain and can't understand.
Writing is so much a thing that requires you to push yourself outwards, further and further. No matter what you write you must think, breathe, understand, listen. You can't write people without understanding people, whether as a rote formula (albeit a broken one) or in an intrinsic way. You can't write vampires without a basic understanding of human biology and a person's psychology.
Research is key to any piece of writing, no matter how fictitious and fantastical. And more than research you must breathe and live your characters; these, these are the best books. Where you are someone else entirely because the author became and grew and expanded.
You cannot be isolated from the world, from people, from nature, and expect to write something beautiful. You must use all of the words in your repertoire, adjectivize and explain and show not tell and breathe the words. Breathe life. People are hopeless and wonderful and terrible and nightmarish and cruel and bitter and loving and passionate and powerful and immeasurable and every possible adjective. And the world around us? It is wonderful and hopeless and cruel and loving and passionate and terrible and nightmarish and passionate and powerful and bitter and indescribable. If you haven't run out of adjectives, you haven't fully described the existence and wonder that exists in every subatomic particle.
At the end of the day, that is what you are writing - not a story, but people. People in extraordinary circumstances or maybe not-so-extraordinary circumstances. You are writing yourself in autobiographies and Jane Doe in biographies and dragons in fantasy and aliens in science fiction and imaginary friends in realistic fiction. Take all the factors of all the books and you will see similarities and inspirations as all writers draw from one another.
There hasn't been a truly original, one-of-a-kind, no repeat story in centuries. But there's been one-of-a-kind, original, beautiful, unrepeatable characters. People. In every book.
To write you must read. Reading expands yourself, your gases and core elements, gives you inspiration and words when you run out. I've learned words like facade, indisputable, curmudegonly, from books. They fit neatly, kindly, and perfectly together, each story bringing a new word or a new way to use an old word.
Breathe out, expand, write. The moreness comes when you believe in it.
And always, always write people. The words will provide themselves.
I can't exactly explain the "moreness" to you, but if you're a writer, you understand. In the same way that I am never writing the stories I dare to call mine, but the characters are. I am an instrument of creation fueled by a force I couldn't explain and can't understand.
Writing is so much a thing that requires you to push yourself outwards, further and further. No matter what you write you must think, breathe, understand, listen. You can't write people without understanding people, whether as a rote formula (albeit a broken one) or in an intrinsic way. You can't write vampires without a basic understanding of human biology and a person's psychology.
Research is key to any piece of writing, no matter how fictitious and fantastical. And more than research you must breathe and live your characters; these, these are the best books. Where you are someone else entirely because the author became and grew and expanded.
You cannot be isolated from the world, from people, from nature, and expect to write something beautiful. You must use all of the words in your repertoire, adjectivize and explain and show not tell and breathe the words. Breathe life. People are hopeless and wonderful and terrible and nightmarish and cruel and bitter and loving and passionate and powerful and immeasurable and every possible adjective. And the world around us? It is wonderful and hopeless and cruel and loving and passionate and terrible and nightmarish and passionate and powerful and bitter and indescribable. If you haven't run out of adjectives, you haven't fully described the existence and wonder that exists in every subatomic particle.
At the end of the day, that is what you are writing - not a story, but people. People in extraordinary circumstances or maybe not-so-extraordinary circumstances. You are writing yourself in autobiographies and Jane Doe in biographies and dragons in fantasy and aliens in science fiction and imaginary friends in realistic fiction. Take all the factors of all the books and you will see similarities and inspirations as all writers draw from one another.
There hasn't been a truly original, one-of-a-kind, no repeat story in centuries. But there's been one-of-a-kind, original, beautiful, unrepeatable characters. People. In every book.
To write you must read. Reading expands yourself, your gases and core elements, gives you inspiration and words when you run out. I've learned words like facade, indisputable, curmudegonly, from books. They fit neatly, kindly, and perfectly together, each story bringing a new word or a new way to use an old word.
Breathe out, expand, write. The moreness comes when you believe in it.
And always, always write people. The words will provide themselves.
Sunday, April 19, 2015
I Will Love
give me the most difficult child you can think of.
bipolar, autistic, schizophrenic, epileptic, depressed.
all of that, together, not in the individuals. because an individual concept is relatively simple. you can reach out to others more easily when you have just one label.
I will love them.
I will love with silences and with words and with touch and with moments when I cannot reach out through my own incapabilities.
I will never think of killing them.
I will never think that it would be better for them to be dead than to be alive.
I will think of killing myself. The facts of mental diseases.
But I will love; so I will keep going for them.
I will love them, when they are having a meltdown and I'm terrified of them.
I will love them, when they don't want to be touched.
I will love.
Because if you think of killing an innocent child,
Or a troublesome teenager,
There is something wrong with you.
There is something wrong with you
Not with them.
Not with temper-tantrum violent-or-more-likely-not-violent-at-all child.
With YOU.
Because love means you will sacrifice everything for them.
Whatever children God gives me:
I wil love them.
It's what real parents do.
bipolar, autistic, schizophrenic, epileptic, depressed.
all of that, together, not in the individuals. because an individual concept is relatively simple. you can reach out to others more easily when you have just one label.
I will love them.
I will love with silences and with words and with touch and with moments when I cannot reach out through my own incapabilities.
I will never think of killing them.
I will never think that it would be better for them to be dead than to be alive.
I will think of killing myself. The facts of mental diseases.
But I will love; so I will keep going for them.
I will love them, when they are having a meltdown and I'm terrified of them.
I will love them, when they don't want to be touched.
I will love.
Because if you think of killing an innocent child,
Or a troublesome teenager,
There is something wrong with you.
There is something wrong with you
Not with them.
Not with temper-tantrum violent-or-more-likely-not-violent-at-all child.
With YOU.
Because love means you will sacrifice everything for them.
Whatever children God gives me:
I wil love them.
It's what real parents do.
Thursday, April 16, 2015
Senioritis is a Real Thing
Trust me, I am experiencing it. The symptoms:
-This year I is the year I have missed THE MOST school.
-I see an "F" and go "meh, whatever".
-Once I get home from school I act like it is the weekend.
-What's homework?
-GRADUATIONPROMGRADUATIONPROMGRADUATIONPROM......
-"So they have senior celebration in place of ditch day? Pfft, I'm still going to (try to) get my mom to have a ditch day for me. Screw the rules."
-...I am not caring about roleplaying much. Basically, if it's not quick, I'm not going to post all that often. Which is weird for me. I LIKE trying to write novels.
-How long can I get away with not doing work in class?
-Meh, chores. Whatever.
etc.
Laziness ABOUNDS. I am so... like... not caring.
Which is nice in a lot of ways because my anxiety rarely acts up and when it does 99% of the time I don't need to take a Xanex to take care of it.
But terrible for... well. Good thing I'm going to a community college, just sayin' XD
-This year I is the year I have missed THE MOST school.
-I see an "F" and go "meh, whatever".
-Once I get home from school I act like it is the weekend.
-What's homework?
-GRADUATIONPROMGRADUATIONPROMGRADUATIONPROM......
-"So they have senior celebration in place of ditch day? Pfft, I'm still going to (try to) get my mom to have a ditch day for me. Screw the rules."
-...I am not caring about roleplaying much. Basically, if it's not quick, I'm not going to post all that often. Which is weird for me. I LIKE trying to write novels.
-How long can I get away with not doing work in class?
-Meh, chores. Whatever.
etc.
Laziness ABOUNDS. I am so... like... not caring.
Which is nice in a lot of ways because my anxiety rarely acts up and when it does 99% of the time I don't need to take a Xanex to take care of it.
But terrible for... well. Good thing I'm going to a community college, just sayin' XD
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Trying To Write a Nice Post is Impossible With Lag
I have a lot of friends.
I'm pretty non-judgemental as an overall rule, and hang out with people of all types and appearances. My one "rule" would be that you're nice.
(And I can judge for myself whether you're nice or not thanks. I say this because depression makes one hate themselves. Hating yourself means you don't think you're a good person. So yes, I'm the judge on your level of kindness.)
This also means that I have a lot of misunderstandings.
I am a white female girl. I say "female girl" because "female" and "male" are the biological things and then "girl/woman" and "boy/man" are the genders.
I was raised in a fairly sheltered environment. And I'm an optimist and an idealist.
For someone who was raised in a different environment - one without supporting parents and an open-mindedness towards accepting all people - I might say things that seem insensitive. I will definitely get annoyed when people complain about how they are bullied "because of" a facet of themselves. (And get FREAKING PISSED at anyone who bullies someone, regardless.)
We all get bullied. "Buck up", I'd say, except it sucks and bullying is terrible and it's not the victim's job to do anything but tell someone. It's not "because of" you, it's because that person has a hard home life or low self-esteem or something else or all of the above. So don't say that you're bullied "because of" a key component of your identity. Yes, a key component of your identity might make someone scared or even jealous, but it's not "because of" you. It has everything to do with the bully.
Saying that a key component of your identity is the reason you are bullied is not only false, it is heart breaking.
But that's way off track so let me get back onto focus.
I have a lot of misunderstandings. I say things that are insensitive, sometimes, and sometimes I say things in a way that confuse people. My life is a lot of people staring me at me blankly, not comprehending what I've just said because I used a big word or not realizing I was sarcastic.
I am honestly socially awkward, though you'd never realize it. But I do tend to say things that don't make sense, make obscure references, and I don't have a TMI filter - anything is fair game. Yes, including talking about "potty" things during lunch. Which I've done. True story.
But overall it means I end up in a lot of misunderstandings. Don't misunderstand me; I love people. I wish everyone could be happy. But I usually say what I mean. Sometimes I just don't explain it right. For as eloquent as I am, I'm still very much broken and unable to speak or write the way I want and need to.
That's especially true when everything I type shows up several minutes later. e_e Stupid laptop...
I'm pretty non-judgemental as an overall rule, and hang out with people of all types and appearances. My one "rule" would be that you're nice.
(And I can judge for myself whether you're nice or not thanks. I say this because depression makes one hate themselves. Hating yourself means you don't think you're a good person. So yes, I'm the judge on your level of kindness.)
This also means that I have a lot of misunderstandings.
I am a white female girl. I say "female girl" because "female" and "male" are the biological things and then "girl/woman" and "boy/man" are the genders.
I was raised in a fairly sheltered environment. And I'm an optimist and an idealist.
For someone who was raised in a different environment - one without supporting parents and an open-mindedness towards accepting all people - I might say things that seem insensitive. I will definitely get annoyed when people complain about how they are bullied "because of" a facet of themselves. (And get FREAKING PISSED at anyone who bullies someone, regardless.)
We all get bullied. "Buck up", I'd say, except it sucks and bullying is terrible and it's not the victim's job to do anything but tell someone. It's not "because of" you, it's because that person has a hard home life or low self-esteem or something else or all of the above. So don't say that you're bullied "because of" a key component of your identity. Yes, a key component of your identity might make someone scared or even jealous, but it's not "because of" you. It has everything to do with the bully.
Saying that a key component of your identity is the reason you are bullied is not only false, it is heart breaking.
But that's way off track so let me get back onto focus.
I have a lot of misunderstandings. I say things that are insensitive, sometimes, and sometimes I say things in a way that confuse people. My life is a lot of people staring me at me blankly, not comprehending what I've just said because I used a big word or not realizing I was sarcastic.
I am honestly socially awkward, though you'd never realize it. But I do tend to say things that don't make sense, make obscure references, and I don't have a TMI filter - anything is fair game. Yes, including talking about "potty" things during lunch. Which I've done. True story.
But overall it means I end up in a lot of misunderstandings. Don't misunderstand me; I love people. I wish everyone could be happy. But I usually say what I mean. Sometimes I just don't explain it right. For as eloquent as I am, I'm still very much broken and unable to speak or write the way I want and need to.
That's especially true when everything I type shows up several minutes later. e_e Stupid laptop...
Monday, April 13, 2015
10
There are things you must know.
1.
It is okay to be sad.
It is okay to be the kind of rip-roaring screaming tears pulling hair sad.
It is okay to be the kind of lay in bed never move cannot think sad.
It is okay to be sad.
2.
It is okay to cry.
It is okay to let it all out and take deep breaths and stop believing.
It is okay to choke on your tears and taste the salt and believe again.
It is okay to cry.
3.
It is okay to be angry.
It is okay to scream and to yell and punch your pillow over and over again.
It is okay to be pissed at someone else because they are a jerk and you are not okay.
It is okay to be angry.
4.
It is okay to be silent.
It is okay to linger in the spaces between noises and gather up your thoughts.
It is okay to not say something when you're told a sad thing because you need to process it.
It is okay to be silent.
5.
It is okay to be loud.
It is okay to tell the world your opinions and beliefs even if they aren't technically PC, even if people disagree with them.
It is okay to let go of the quiet and scream and yell and then smile and be bright, shining so wonderfully.
It is okay to be loud.
6.
It is okay to forget.
It is okay if you forget a birthday or an anniversary or an important meeting.
It is okay to forget that you didn't do the laundry or that you need to bring something today.
It is okay to forget.
7.
It is okay to be different.
It is okay because we are all different, all unique, and what would this world be if we were identical clones?
It is okay because clones are boring, repeating the same old pattern is useless.
It is okay to be different.
8.
It is okay to have a problem.
It is okay as we all fight our demons and sometimes we just need to let the world know we have a problem.
It is okay to have a problem with the world, with yourself, with society, with your friends and your enemies.
It is okay to have a problem.
9.
It is okay to be hapy.
It is okay to not be sad over ever little problem someone might have.
It is okay to be happy even though someone you love has recently died, because life goes on.
It is okay to be happy.
10.
It is okay to be selfish.
It is okay to look after yourself because you can't take care of anyone else if you don't take care of yourself.
It is okay to say no or to do something other people don't approve of as long as you aren't hurting anyone else.
It is okay to be selfish.
Just thought you could use some okay today.
1.
It is okay to be sad.
It is okay to be the kind of rip-roaring screaming tears pulling hair sad.
It is okay to be the kind of lay in bed never move cannot think sad.
It is okay to be sad.
2.
It is okay to cry.
It is okay to let it all out and take deep breaths and stop believing.
It is okay to choke on your tears and taste the salt and believe again.
It is okay to cry.
3.
It is okay to be angry.
It is okay to scream and to yell and punch your pillow over and over again.
It is okay to be pissed at someone else because they are a jerk and you are not okay.
It is okay to be angry.
4.
It is okay to be silent.
It is okay to linger in the spaces between noises and gather up your thoughts.
It is okay to not say something when you're told a sad thing because you need to process it.
It is okay to be silent.
5.
It is okay to be loud.
It is okay to tell the world your opinions and beliefs even if they aren't technically PC, even if people disagree with them.
It is okay to let go of the quiet and scream and yell and then smile and be bright, shining so wonderfully.
It is okay to be loud.
6.
It is okay to forget.
It is okay if you forget a birthday or an anniversary or an important meeting.
It is okay to forget that you didn't do the laundry or that you need to bring something today.
It is okay to forget.
7.
It is okay to be different.
It is okay because we are all different, all unique, and what would this world be if we were identical clones?
It is okay because clones are boring, repeating the same old pattern is useless.
It is okay to be different.
8.
It is okay to have a problem.
It is okay as we all fight our demons and sometimes we just need to let the world know we have a problem.
It is okay to have a problem with the world, with yourself, with society, with your friends and your enemies.
It is okay to have a problem.
9.
It is okay to be hapy.
It is okay to not be sad over ever little problem someone might have.
It is okay to be happy even though someone you love has recently died, because life goes on.
It is okay to be happy.
10.
It is okay to be selfish.
It is okay to look after yourself because you can't take care of anyone else if you don't take care of yourself.
It is okay to say no or to do something other people don't approve of as long as you aren't hurting anyone else.
It is okay to be selfish.
Just thought you could use some okay today.
Beyond the Death Month
And we pass the death.
Another mark,
Bleeding hands,
Regret.
To write, it is broken;
There is no schedule,
Of when my voice speaks,
Of when my throat closes,
Of when I write but no words come.
Uselessness,
When I am not scraping perfection in words.
Anti-social, introvert, I write:
my only option for peace of mind.
I twist, I fall, I falter.
I am broken.
That's okay -
I am whole, also.
I've gathered myself up,
I am smiling.
Seven months dead,
The bitter thoughts,
Sinking beneath the ice.
That's okay -
I was brought up,
The exact same people who put me there saved me,
Life raft,
Family.
Day two,
Alternative thoughts,
Memorial,
An urn -
Ashes, as she wished.
Opposite, failure, question marked.
One day.
It's not today.
Abstract in the best understanding;
This is emotion.
Eloquent thoughts,
Older than you think,
Younger than you believe:
Strength in numbers,
Like the redwoods,
I am not complete and utter isolation.
Keep busy, now.
You've passed this day.
Death month and death memorial and death faults.
Death thoughts.
Words are hard.
Close your eyes;
Believe.
Good-bye is not forever -
And I'll be seeing you on the other side.
Day three.
Taste the rain.
understanding
Understanding.
That's the goal, the aim, isn't it?
To understand another.
I speak to silence.
Repeat.
Fill up uselessness, and wonder -
Am I left walking, or am I speaking too loud?
What can I do -
with silence?
Reach to me.
Understand.
Sometimes you cannot feel another.
In this, the new knowledge -
Too normal to understand,
I judge, I broke,
I crack my soul.
It is okay.
That's the goal, the aim, isn't it?
Understanding.
That's the goal, the aim, isn't it?
To understand another.
I speak to silence.
Repeat.
Fill up uselessness, and wonder -
Am I left walking, or am I speaking too loud?
What can I do -
with silence?
Reach to me.
Understand.
Sometimes you cannot feel another.
In this, the new knowledge -
Too normal to understand,
I judge, I broke,
I crack my soul.
It is okay.
That's the goal, the aim, isn't it?
Understanding.
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Poem for Vicki Heisler. RIP.
It is in the last recesses of insanity,
That I gather up the tattered scraps of my soul.
Here, in the silence, I am empty;
When I start the music, I feel whole.
Longing and loss, there is no description.
Saying good-byes, it seems the words always fail.
The departure is not easy,
And in the lost trellises there is guilt and regret.
To hold a soulless hand is to realize what is gone;
To hear the eulogy spoken from the soul, in the aftermath,
Unscripted - that is what is more and most.
Words, it seems, do not fail the dead,
As the speaker rises from the ash and brings the fragments to truth.
For you have left and right, black and white, and the bits of gray that made the one gone.
The truth seekers should go to a funeral,
And pry open the minds of those who mourn.
You will see the delight they had with the once-living,
But also the regret, fears, and way they could never get along.
In the mind is a whole being,
And for the one gone is not for who they mourn.
Adorn the widow in her black,
And she will turn the room to white,
As dusty hands reach and grab,
Faith, and the faithlessness.
In the darkest reaches of insanity,
I scrape at the tattered remains of my soul.
All I can gather are words, plucked like flowers,
Divine in that they are all I know.
I will give you my memories of this woman,
As family is deeper scored than blood.
She wrote herself into my eternity,
And though frustrating, she was loved.
What sort of divine truth will I find,
When I too join the ranks of angels?
I turn to the last moments of infinity,
The endlessness that reaches ending,
Death is not the last stop here,
As you board the train.
Wave your white handkerchief,
And pray for love to remain.
More than the number I can count,
I am left reaching empty.
The numbers on my hands now, seven;
And though there are those who would not count cat and dog,
A full hand is still misery.
How much loss can one have in life?
My first taste of death was at six;
My mother knew death from the age of ten or so.
I will count the numbers, and mark the tombstone I cannot see,
The touch is distant and fading -
But life, a sweet soiree.
My knees buckle beneath me,
As misery holds me in its grasp,
Depression reaches through me,
And as I sleep, I hope not to wake.
Everything is ruins in the aftermath of loss -
Wholeness is impossible.
Until I scrape up the last of the words I have,
The unable explanation, the momentary glimpse of light,
As I sing with the music song and feel it,
As I twist myself in the blankets.
As these, the last dark recess of insanity,
Collects all the words to know -
And I, in speaking words,
Know the last recesses of my tattered soul.
I say my farewell with eloquence,
Greater than I’ve ever known.
In loss, I reach for beauty.
In loss, heat replaces cold.
Farewell.
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