Just another day kicking my own ass

I’m not one to use big words. I’m more someone who creates words and insists they’re real. I mean come on, funner has gotta be real. I get a lot of flack from that one—from not fun people I should add. Anyways, I do think it is important for me to become more aware of the real words out there. Especially when, ya know, I try to write. Which is why lately when I come across words that I don’t know the full definition of, I ask my Australian Siri Man. He’s useless for the most part, but defining may be his one strength. 

So being very transparent here, you might say I’m in a bit of a rut. Call it a quarter-life crisis maybe. Fitting since I am 25. Meh, whatever you want to call it, it resembles a ball sucking, ass kicking, and mind boggling time in my life. All we can do is live day by day they always say, so day by day is what I do. Great advice oh wise one—sheesh. But, sometimes corny obvious advice is what one needs. We overlook what’s in front of us while we’re searching for our soul in the greener grass.

While I’m off climbing yet another mountain to find my guru, I’m reading this book. It’s a very thick one, and it is taking me for-fucking-ever to read. It’s because I have to re-read every single paragraph this lady writes. Her content is so dense, so true, I want to fully understand what they hell she is really saying. And, you know, the whole making up words thing is just not cutting it for my comprehension. With Australian Siri Man to my rescue, I find a word that I didn’t realize describes my current situation perfectly.

Malaise. A general feeling of discomfort, illness, or uneasiness whose exact cause is difficult to identify.

It’s such a vague word, and is the twisty tie holding my world together. It’s tied in such a way that when I think I’m untying it I then realize, nope, I’m making it tighter. So I go the other way. Over and over again. Floating in this emotional malaise while getting seasick over the raft I built for myself. It’s a constant itch as I try to keep my emotions in check.  It’s partly due to the fact of where I am physically, back at my parents house, cramming my stuff around Pokemon cards and remote controlled cars in my brothers old room. It’s also partly due to what I’m settling for. For the first time in my goddamn life I know what I want, but yet I feel like I’m holding sand in my hands. Following the heart is a devastating path. It’s hard, it’s fucking hard. But, for some ungodly reason, it’s still all I want to do. And settling, oh it’s killing me. More so making me feel psychotic. Temporary is what I keep telling myself, it’s all temporary. This emotional malaise, this overpowering general feel of uneasiness, is challenging me to ends I don’t know how to meet.

Drastic moves is what will come next. I can feel it climbing up through me. After such contemplation, over-analyzing, and self scrutiny, I know in my bones who I am. And drastic is something I do. Once I make a decision, it’s made. There’s not even a chance for me to talk myself out of it. A very large fault of mine, I know this, but at the moment I’m going to see it as an opportunity. An opportunity to go after my instincts, to feel in my gut what my heart wants, and let my head actually create something sustainable.

…and it’s going to be funner than anything else.

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the car wash you walk through

It’s what you get after you go through something that impacts you in such a way that it moves you, changes you, or inspires you. It’s like a patina that glazes over you as if you walked through a mechanical car wash. A film covers your body showing everyone what you’ve been through. Evidence of an experience. You can try to rid of it like so many of us hide what we truly are, but instead it now is your coat, your sheen armor that rather than protecting you, illuminates your vulnerabilities.

The patina itself is love. Or hate. Or sacredness. Or bravery. It’s something you now wear, painfully visible.

It happens when you let something consume you. The ear to ear smile from feeling loved, the pained face of heartache you can’t help but wear, the flinch that crawls up your body when you’re conditioned to expect the worse, or the broad shoulders you carry to prove to yourself you’re strong.

We all want an armor that will protect us. What we don’t realize is that what makes us strong is not what we wear to keep things at bay, but what we see as our truths. If we realize what they are, what we are, our vulnerabilities will make us stronger.

If your weakness is love, then you are prepared for a life of heartache, so you love harder. If you feel hatred, it means you have felt pain, which means you have cared deeply for something and that you can feel that way again. If you are scared, then you know your monster and can stare at it until it doesn’t scare you anymore. If you are brave, then you know what you stand for and have the strength to stand up for it despite any odds.

You are who you are. You have to embrace what you are, what you were, so you can become who you want to be.

The monster in front of you

Its face is warped, decomposing away. Pieces of its flesh are gone, and bone peeks through like deep puddles on asphalt. Its eyes are like black marbles, large and round with the reflection from the light in front of it shooting out like beams. Reptile like, its skin tears as it stretches its mouth open, screaming at you. Its inaudible scream fills your ears with a numb nothing. Its foul hot breath reaches you as a chill, like a gentle hum running down your body making the hairs down your spine stand up. You straighten yourself, clenching your jaw hard. Your head fills with the piercing pain of holding back tears. You let it scream at you, stare into your eyes with its own empty sodden expression.

And then you scream back. You can’t hear it, but your throat itches and rips as you tear all the breath out of your lungs. Screaming at each other, your screams combine to make a harmony, a harmony that gives you a kind of peace.

You should have something you like to look at

I was living in a house of white walls. I would get lost in them, staring at them for what felt like hours. My thoughts would go nowhere and everywhere at the same time—around and around in circles they went. It wasn’t until I put up some art, something to look at, that my thoughts found direction.

When you’re searching for something, it helps to have something in front of you… because something is better than nothing. Something will take you somewhere.

The stars sparkle for a reason

I looked up at the stars tonight, something I used to do everyday, but lately, everyday my nights are black skies–I forgot about the stars.

I forgot they were there because I haven’t looked up in awhile. I’ve held a narrow gaze with life, one which once you step into becomes bigger, vast like. So, I’ve gotten lost in this thought universe of mine, and it’s taken me awhile to realize that I should see it more as a solar system. Meaning, there are other systems out there in a bigger universe, I just have to look out for them.

Seeing the stars tonight I was reminded of the other solar systems. This solar system of mine is sludgy and jaded. We all have those kinds. We all have the easy kind too, like rollerblading on a smooth road, some solar systems feel better. But getting stuck in either is like forgetting about the stars. We limit ourselves to inside opportunities, the ones currently covered in the sludge.

In my universe, I’ve lived in some of the other solar systems–some good and some bad. They are a part of my universe and they’ll always be there if I look out to see them. But the only ones I can visit are ones I haven’t been to before. Because that’s how life works. Our past, present, and future live together in the compilation of our life, but none of them can overlap. Good thing there’s an infinite number of solar systems to visit.

Sometimes we get lost in our past. The “what ifs” and “back thens” make us question our present which makes our future hazy.

Sometimes we get lost in the future. We become so obsessed “knowing” or “not knowing” how things are going to turn out it prevents us from focusing on our present, which leads us to pessimistic views of our daily lives because we’re always wanting more.

The present is the only place where both the past and future can live, and it’s the only place you can see the stars.

Thinking that living in the present has been my problem, I have come to realize that living in the present is not what I’m even doing. The past and future are deceiving that way, they disguise themselves to seem like the present. But in reality, it’s us overthinking and analyzing, when we should be enjoying what is in front of us.

Living in the moment, feeling what you feel. That is the only way to get to a future, a solar system, that you want to live in.

 

…go look at the stars tonight.

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.

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.