You carry it, even if it’s heavy

Your eyes are closed, your head is bent over, but you still know it’s in front of you.

Loyalty.

It’s there because you want it to be. You make a point to have it in front of you, even when you can’t see it. Loyalty has a hold on people, and maybe that’s why people struggle so much with it. Because, it does dictate us. It is the reasoning to why we do things, and it is the wall that keeps us at bay.

People don’t always like having something have that much of a hold on them, and people choose life without loyalty because of that. Loyalty requires strength. Loyal is a word that is thrown around with importance, but not always carried as so. It’s a word that’s meant to carry weight. Loyalty should mean more than being faithful, it should represent you caring about something, actively being a part of it, and standing strong with it.  You have to know what you care about—what’s important to you. It’s something worth carrying. It doesn’t have to be a heavy weight, but it should be felt, always. Whether you have loyalty in people, in love, in work, in beliefs, in places, or even in things, it is a lifestyle that you are proud of, happy about, and is worth the weight on your shoulders.

Because we can’t go around walking with nothing. To carry something you care about is strength. We don’t have to do it, but it makes walking a whole lot more rewarding.

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Sometimes we have to remember

This morning, I ate 4 cinnamon rolls, the kind that comes in the tube that you have to smash open. Each bite was less satisfying than the one before, but still I continued eating. The frosting is what kept me going. I got the cream cheese kind because, well duh.

Sometimes, the frosting is what keeps us there, in a good moment. Underneath the mundane reality of a singular moment, is something sweet enough to make it memorable. These sweet moments, although may be short in duration, last long and strong in our memories. Because, it’s not about how recent something happened, but how memorable it was. That’s what matters. Our life is compiled of events. Some of them are sweeter than others, and those are the ones that usually continue to stand out to us over time.

Time is something that goes, always. It will always be there, and it will always be gone, away from us. What we need to remember is not the amount of time away we are from the good moments, but the moments themselves. Because they will always be there. They won’t change, they happened. They may have moved us, stopped us, made us ponder, or made us feel. The fact is that they were there, apart of us. We forget too often about the memories that matter to us. Our present reality is not everything, although a lot of us rely on it for happiness. When we take a look back at our frosting moments, we get another glimpse of something we let live back in our mind. When we bring it to the front, we see and recognize something that continues to be a part of us. Because we aren’t just made up of this moment, but all the moments before. And we should remember that even though the past is where they live, they are still with us, always.

 

To the across

Across the country is where I went. It’s what I drove through, and what I planned on doing. Across the country gives me a different world from the one I had.

Crossing the country, thoughts flooded my mind, but the outstanding voice I heard kept saying “are you sure.” It was being posed as a statement, rather than the question it should be. Reassuring myself that this motion I have started isn’t stopping.

Are you sure.

And yep, the only thing to be heard was, YES. Because, at that moment, if it was me asking myself “are you sure” once again, then going cross country would be a feat I’m not sure I could handle. Questioning myself at this point was far beyond okay. Comparable to being asked to go out, as you look down at your pajama pants, too comfy to fathom taking off, and since public is not where these pants belong, public is where you don’t go.

Across the country I went.

Across the country, my world is a little quieter. Across the country, the air feels different, smells different even. Across the country, my life slows down.

Because across the country, my world was skipping on stones peaking out of the water, hopping to a place that felt better than the last. Constant hopping, constant hoping. The unsettling feeling that my feet could get wet at any minute. So, for a moment, I wanted to just be. Be where I was, and feel like I wasn’t looking for the next stone to balance on.

So, sitting on my steady boulder across the country, I see my old world from afar. I can still feel it, and smell it. I can still feel the unsettling feeling that was constantly pricking at my back. That feeling, the reminder of the anxiety that ruled my world, is what makes me content with this boulder I’m on.

Content for a moment, brief it seems to being.

Because, even though across country is what I wanted, needed, back across the country is where I still want to go.

Perspective is what this boulder is giving me. A perspective that I couldn’t see above my skipping stones, not when skipping was all I felt I was doing.

Being unsure is something I would like to be done with. Knowing is hard. It’s scary to me because of its permanent attributes. Leaving something unknown leaves room for change, it gives room for the disappointment that seems inevitable. Because in the end, disappointment is what I was skipping away from, using “I don’t know” as my crutch— Something I could rely on and use to protect myself because vulnerability is where disappointment dwells, waiting to wet your feet.

Not sure if wet socks is something I could go through again, anymore, I skipped so far that it became across the country. But, with a new view, this boulder that I feel so stable on, is in fact, just another skipping stone I find myself balancing on…

But, just now, I hear rain hitting the ground, forming a new layer of water just deep enough for me to get my feet in, which I think, I’ll do on purpose this time.

The shoppers card, man, it’s the shoppers card

Standing in line at the grocery store with a carton of eggs under my left arm, a half gallon of ice cream in my hand with a loaf of bread balancing on top of it while I dig around my purse for my shoppers card.

This is my life.

Holding tight to the necessities, the nutrients, that I know I can’t go on without, mostly because, well breakfast…—the eggs.

Grasping hard onto the sweet things that I don’t necessarily need, I guess it’s more of a want, but let’s be real here, it’s a need—the ice cream.

All the while balancing what’s thrown at me, hoping it won’t fall, but if it does, it won’t be a catastrophic event, only some dings that can be squished back into place good enough for a sandwich—the bread.

A plastic card that represents “discounts” and “‘loyalty” is what makes things hairy. Implied loyalty, and the search of a good deal suddenly becomes more important than your health, your desires, and your opportunities. Placing such trust in your left arm, the less dominant one, the weak one, to search for a symbol of your crutch is what can fuck your shit up…The whole thing can come tumbling down, but still, you balance. You look like a damn fool, but you balance and search. Why? Because it’s important. We hold what we can, and search for the tool that will get us what we want. Because if we don’t go after what we want these items will only be that, items. Items that fill yourself up, take up room, and just stay there. They don’t have a purpose nor a direction. Not until you scan that shoppers card and get the $2.50 in savings for shopping there.

Not to piggyback on the successful credit card slogan that Samuel L. Jackson has hammered into our brains, but, what’s in your wallet?

Time is

It starts from a point of understanding.

When you realize that what you’ve been waiting for has been waiting for you just the same. Only, you weren’t ready for it. So, it wasn’t ready for you.

Timing folks.

It comes across as a coincidence. For some, it’s something that was destined. It’s how the world works. Timing is what moves us. It’s what pauses us. It’s what we do.

Where does timing come in in the grand scheme of life? Something could be completely right, but it could also be completely wrong if the timing is off. How is that so though? If something is meant to be don’t you think it would always be meant to be? Timing is complicated. It’s messy, often confusing and unknown.

Timing relies on feeling. It’s something that moves through you every day. You decide whether it feels right. You decide what you’ll do with it. Timing is not what dictates us, even though it seems so. Timing presents us with something, leaving us to determine what to do with it, how to see it, how we feel about it.

Some things rely on timing, and so we lean on it. We wait on the time to become, feel, right. Waiting can be necessary or it can be detrimental. We put ourselves through experiences, thinking we are manipulating the timing of it. But what we often mistake for power is actually the true powerless we have against time. We think we know when something is right. We think, but only time knows.

Time is nothing. It’s something we make up. Because, really, we have no idea how much time we have. So we really don’t know how to measure how to spend our time. We don’t know if we are really ready for something because we don’t know if tomorrow is going to be a promise. We don’t know what we deserve, because we don’t know how to measure the magnitude of the life in front of us. We just don’t know. But we try to make sense of it and feel good about it. So we make up this thing called time and let it move us. We hope for the best. That’s what we can do. Against “time”, and the power we give it, hope is what we have left. 

Entitled Bystander

You just stand there and watch me leave.

You just stand there and watch it happen.

You just stand there watching the worst.

You just stand there watching people doing.

You just stand there because you can.

You’re standing there, standing for nothing.

Standing on the bridge they’re walking over.

You’re making it easy, easy to be.

Because you just stand there, can’t you see?

That feeling

It’s itching to come out. Prickling at every surface under your skin. You can feel it running up, then down your body, then up again. Trying to keep it in, you hold onto it. It’s until you notice the digging of your fingernail into your lip that it has found its way out.

the haze we see through

I’ll tell you what it’s all about.

As an adjective, casual is defined as: relaxed and unconcerned.

As a noun, it is defined as: a person who does something irregularly.

Comfy pant Saturday nights, drinking pumpkin beer on a cold fall day, festival hallucinogens, tie-die Fridays at work, hungover shower pees. It happens, casually.

Some human activities are meant to be casual. We can’t do everything in a concerned and tight manner, and people who have no irregularity are boring. But, keeping it chill translates into no strings attached which really is an excuse to live day by day which means that you really aren’t trying. Living casually is a way to get by. But when it comes to that part of the day when you find yourself alone, the ticking of the clock is the only song playing, you realize casual is what’s making your life hard. It’s keeping the goods at bay.  It’s too easy to be casual and to treat things as so. Causal feels good. Looks good. Intends to be good. But that moment when you treat what you want as casual, is the moment that you lose it. Because, some things should be treated with purpose and definition. Some things need to be grabbed by you with swagger and dignity. Because in the long run, casual can translate into indifference which can lead to carelessness, and all the while can let the things in your life that you could actually want slip right on through. It feels damn good acquiring something that you didn’t casually get.

Have casuals, but don’t live casually.

Live with purpose, and do casual things with people you enjoy…or by yourself. Act with pursuit, and casually boast about it.  Because it’s not about the things you did half assed and occasionally. When you’re old, you’re not going to remember what wasn’t important. You’re not going to remember the casual living. So, don’t let it consume your life. Don’t let it dictate your future. Don’t let the good things pass you by because they required more permanent and directive thinking.

Figure out what you want. Decide to get it. Feel it in your hands. Have it.

That’s what it’s all about.

 

 

 

Smudging up your life?

When you erase something on paper, a mark is left. A smudge–remnants of a word or thought that used to be and no longer is worthy. We all have smudges. Some are more apparent than others. Some we are able to write over without notice. Smudges shows that we made a decision–a change. That decision put forth a word, that formed a sentence, that created an organized thought. What we erase directs us to what we write. Smudges do not dictate, but reinforce the fact that under the story that was written there was another.

Paper is what our public lives are. We write, draw, and erase. The finished product is presented in the way that we want. But, that does not mean we write or draw the truth of our reality. No, life is made up of highs and lows. And it’s true, the highs are high, and the lows are damn low. But when we look at our life as a whole, we calculate the overall happiness that we’ve felt. Then, we recalculate according to how we want to feel about it all. So, we erase what we want, and we accentuate what we want. The only person who knows the truth about the smudges is the writer. So, as a writer, an artist, any living person really, it is our duty to ourselves to understand the differences between the smudges and that which we replace them with. Understanding what we don’t want is just as important as knowing what we do want. They go hand in hand and without the other we are just acting and reacting to a feeling, or an emotion really, that has no basis–no foundation. This is where the lost stay lost. This is the rut that we can’t seem to get out of. This is the bad mood we can’t swing.

Being true to yourself is what could propel you into the direction of the person you want to be. Or, at least a better version of yourself. Because one version isn’t enough. We deserve to be the best, and we often hinder ourselves ignoring why we created the smudges in our life. Some smudges are necessary and crucial for development, and understanding these smudges may be more imperative to our well being. Undeniably, what we write is what the world sees. What we know about ourselves can not only tell the world a better story, but a more detailed one. And isn’t that what life is all about? The details.

It comes down to the same ‘ol thing. Say what you want to say. Mean what you say. Know why you are saying it. I think this is one of those lessons that we consistently relearn and adapt to as we change and grow. And, I think it’s harder than it seems.

It’s the ducks!

We’re all a bunch of phonies. As Holden Caulfield might say.

It’s about this time of year that I re-read my favorite book, Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger.

I can’t really tell you why it’s my favorite. Maybe it’s my copy of the book, which is older than me and the print looks like it’s been stamped on. Its spine is all cracked and the pages have turned a bit golden. The book is kind of about nothing, but then everything at the same time. If you’ve read it, you know what I mean, and for some reason I’m compelled to pick it up every year.

I think it’s because of Holden, the main character. I like the way he talks. He’s real, you know? Like he sees things as they are. No bullshit. Just people, life, and ducks— A conversation about ducks I think is the most interesting thing in the book. And I’ll let you in on something, it’s not that interesting. Like at all. BUT. It makes you think. About, ducks. About, why ducks? And then, usually, the next thought you have is something profound. It’s weird. It’s a weird book. Real though.

And let’s be real, people need to be more real. I see it everywhere all the time—people putting on faces that aren’t theirs. Cover ups that aren’t covering up shit, only making it more obvious. Say what you mean. Mean what you say. Know what you’re saying. Original thought is often easily misplaced when having a conversation. We react how we think we should too often rather than how we really feel. We reply with “I’m good,” when asked how we are because, well hell, what else are we going to say? This is us. Phonies. Because we are never just “good.”

So, learn something from Holden. Go find out where the ducks go during the wintertime, maybe.