I Swallow Clouds

A sensation brews from the unexpected.
A new confusion seeks new solace.
Subtle, my mind takes over.
A fretful guile.
Mechanized chartered suffusion.

Flow me sidewinder, Make me see, bring me to my knees. I am humble yet proud. To what is an extent to wonder - why and whom? Shall i proceed to my doom, a shattered nuance much benign? Callously i hope for less, to gain more. As quantity burdens me to retrospect with cloudless alien desires.

I want to... I want to be someone... I want to be someone's no one.

Shill, a tardy truth i hope to guild. Chained and Masochist, knowledge in misunderstanding? Joyously sharpened, these keys show me nothing new, just the same opposite of the same. Nativity of skin to flesh, akin hedonistic i swallow clouds.

The stick burns with sonic vibrations echoing reverie. I hunger for foolish epiphany, which escapes me as i am moved. Strange unknowns. When one 8 becomes two zeros....

Challenge me.
Killjoy.
Sunshine.
Surface.
Muddled.
Power.
Perfecting.
Nothing.
Shallow.
Focus.
Chance.
In.
Whole.
Deeper.

Ready....
Set....
Stop...

Y

A new rhythm emerges. It's lyrics speak close to who i am.

"I am not ashame of who I am today."

A single insight, perpetuated by guilt, stems from a moralistic judgment, somehow taken off tangent. No harm, no foul as they say. My agenda for today is the same as it has been for awhile, to step up and create the reality i want for myself. No easy task, but a grand vision nonetheless.

I stop and look, i find and i see, i breathe and i move, as i sit here and ponder an existence profound. I'm ready for the rivers to wash over me. I awake, knowing where i'm going, knowing what i have to do. No incessant hurry, no magical fuel, just a love for my people, a step a day i journey to my oblivion.

A life unified by the mind, body and spirit; the trinity of discipline impeccability i reach but do not touch. My dreams seemingly unattainable at this moment, i hunger for the need of not needing. An abundant truth scarce in nature, i bring my all.

Trusting a divine who has stop speaking cryptically, but with new urging, sending me forward to sights unseen, to realms of disproportionate frailty and a luster of passions sent by friends indeed. Spurred onwards to the now, i value my insanity, my courage under fire. Solid soliloquies of agape and eros, bemuse my heart.

Till all is done, my rest will have to wait.
As i come around.

Completion.

Tis, Complete.
Tis, Time.
Tis, Me.

"Each man has his own vocation. The talent is the call. There is one direction in which all space is open to him. He has faculties silently inviting him thither to endless exertion. He is like a ship in a river; he runs against obstructions on every side but one; on that side all obstruction is taken away, and he sweeps serenely over a deepening channel into an infinite sea. This talent and this call depend on his organization, or the mode in which the general soul incarnates itself in him. He inclines to do something which is easy to him, and good when it is done, but which no other man can do. He has no rival. For the more truly he consults his own powers, the more difference will his work exhibit from the work of any other. His ambition is exactly proportioned to his powers. The height of the pinnacle is determined by the breadth of the base. Every man has this call of the power to do somewhat unique, and no man has any other call. The pretence that he has another call, a summons by name and personal election and outward "signs that mark him extraordinary, and not in the roll of common men," is fanaticism, and betrays obtuseness to perceive that there is one mind in all the individuals, and no respect of persons therein"

~ Emerson.

Ode To Existence

Seminal radiance, impeccable visage and an unruly countenance for it's sublime force is Nature. Much more then Gaia, the Universe bounds all, to a force unpronounced and undiscovered. It flows in all of us and yet its simplicity in perfection goes unnoticed. So strong it spruces life as wooded oxygen givers, to be it's sentinels which watches over all organic motion. Next a radiant mirror of light, a ball of gravity pulls our life blood covered in salt, high above us, only peeking its grace bringing romance. Gazing at this monochrome; enchanted - is a homage to an ode called "Existence".

" The sage as astronomer. - As long as you still experience the stars as something "above you" you lack the eye of knowledge."
~ Nietzsche - Beyond Good and Evil

How could it be better then this?

Like a confused picture, i hold my views of my life in check. All sentiments of hope is thrown out the window. I am back to where i have begun. This journey has come full circle, almost to a completion. The old replacing the old. Nothing new, except more equipped and wiser. So few understand my plight, my incessant joy of the challenge, the struggle.

Carlos Castaneda said it so brilliantly,
"The spirit of a warrior is not geared to indulging and complaining, nor is it geared to winning or losing. The spirit of a warrior is geared only to struggle, and every struggle is a warrior's last battle on earth. Thus the outcome matters very little to him. In his last battle on earth a warrior lets his spirit flow free and clear. And as he wages his battle, knowing that his intent is impeccable, a warrior laughs and laughs."

My life as so far, been an endless struggle just to survive, to live and build my dreams, to have others be free and empowered, to dance and play, to be serious and corporate, to simply explore the depths of me. It never ends and i want to be someone that "Lives" not just surviving and merely existing.

But at this juncture, i feel the lowest i have ever been. Everything seems crumbling around me. This alienation is bewildering. I feel lost and confused about so many things, and my future is dark and unclear. I know what i want, but the new question which is what scares me the most, is; how do i reinvent myself to get there?

Reinventing the fabric of who i perceive myself to be. Have I been so megalomaniacal, that i forgot that i am just a space, an energy to do as i please, to create as i see fit? That i am nothing more, than my intent and the conversation in my head? Have I sought answers to questions yet defined?

Who am I?
I am simply, "I am".


JUST A DROP IN THE WATER.

So i guess thats what I'm to be, do and have.
1. Explore
2. Breathe
3. Love
4. Create
5. Enjoy
6. Write
7. Bliss
8. Appreciate
*Random Order*

Farewell my readers/friends.
You are my everything.

"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...to leave the world a better place...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

~ Emerson

Smoke Screen - Odyssey

A strange urge grows within. A seminal truth I am not sure quite to believe. Is it a moment of clarity or deception? A smoke screen thats bright and clear but shielding me from the perfection of the abode?

I am Loved?
I am Free?
I am Clean?
I am unloved?
I am bounded?
I am soiled?

Trust the Sun and the Moon.
My mystic totem, hears my truth,
of what is still, a contained secret kept from me.

I am tired of this reality, I am tired of me. This is not a depression, but an underlying conversation I have with myself. In all innocents, I do not know any truth, just concepts of this existence. In which it's covered depths I have barely scratched , let alone explored. This odyssey is internal and eternal.

And I am afraid.

Hapless

"I like her because she smiles at me and means it."