Who are we?
Why do we dream, and think and create?
Do we have any higher purpose?
I live life without knowing who I should be-
not knowing what I should be.
When I look in the mirror I am blinded by the words that my eyes scream,
my true confusion is too much for me to handle on my own.
I often dream of having purpose,
to know that I am worth something,
that I have a goal,
a reason to live.
I have never had one though,
and I wonder day after day if I ever will have one...
Why do these thoughts plague me?
Friday, June 24, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Dream-ish post
Dreams, manipulated, and forged with slight irregularity by time and the fact that my language skill isn't enough to explain their deep complexity, I think I may start listing some of my more interesting dreams, although, even as I read through this post, I can't exactly get things right, and perhaps I can make this post longer later because a lot of what is going on is extremely unclear....But I am too tired now, and my dreams call on me to enjoy another adventure.
Suddenly I return to a place that I had forgotten. I swim in circles in a world that is not supposed to be, here I breathe with such intensity that I feel my lungs drift from inside of me. I close my eyes, and begin to sway in the breeze of past.
Gasping for air I find myself hurling toward the ground, leaving a trail behind me that leads to a soft splat on the concrete, a splat that may or may not be me, depending on what definition of reality may be actuality.
Breathe.
Reorienting I find that nothing is as divine as it once was. A flower is only a flower, and the sun is only the sun. Running farther than the eye can see I find me, within something more than I am, more than I understand, and I study, and dream, but lose time, and find that everything is off schedule, and that the path has not waited for me.
The light has become dim, and I run again, only to find that I cannot see where I am, or in fact, even my own hand, which in front of my face lends no trace of existence. finding something other to guide me is my goal, my current identity that is the only element that defines me.
Success.
Even though I can no longer head in the direction that my original path led, I find to my delight that with new sense engaged everything will eventually be okay, and trust my mind to lead me somewhere filled with positive energy.
Wet.
Toes dipping slightly under the surface of something, like water, but with more complexity. Lending hope to that around me, my body becomes one with the surface, and eventually sinks into the lake of destiny.
Dark and warm like a mother's womb my surroundings comfort me. Easing thoughts to a pulse I release all that may bother me, and sink into a swaying trance that relieves me of all worry.
When I awake he is waiting. He looks at me, eyes opening my mind ad studying the contents for future reference. I need say nothing, as he knows me, and as I close my eyes, I realize I know him too, although nameless, and without face, and I smile, and he does also, I feel it, even with my eyes sealed beneath lids of pink. He then embraces me, and tells me the secrets of life and things, and I nod, and he hands me a blanket, and lays me to sleep.
My heart beats. Opening my eyes I see things that are familiar to me, although words forgotten, I know that in hours past, something important was said to me. Standing I smile, open the blinds, and find that life is indeed deeper than originally perceived.
Suddenly I return to a place that I had forgotten. I swim in circles in a world that is not supposed to be, here I breathe with such intensity that I feel my lungs drift from inside of me. I close my eyes, and begin to sway in the breeze of past.
Gasping for air I find myself hurling toward the ground, leaving a trail behind me that leads to a soft splat on the concrete, a splat that may or may not be me, depending on what definition of reality may be actuality.
Breathe.
Reorienting I find that nothing is as divine as it once was. A flower is only a flower, and the sun is only the sun. Running farther than the eye can see I find me, within something more than I am, more than I understand, and I study, and dream, but lose time, and find that everything is off schedule, and that the path has not waited for me.
The light has become dim, and I run again, only to find that I cannot see where I am, or in fact, even my own hand, which in front of my face lends no trace of existence. finding something other to guide me is my goal, my current identity that is the only element that defines me.
Success.
Even though I can no longer head in the direction that my original path led, I find to my delight that with new sense engaged everything will eventually be okay, and trust my mind to lead me somewhere filled with positive energy.
Wet.
Toes dipping slightly under the surface of something, like water, but with more complexity. Lending hope to that around me, my body becomes one with the surface, and eventually sinks into the lake of destiny.
Dark and warm like a mother's womb my surroundings comfort me. Easing thoughts to a pulse I release all that may bother me, and sink into a swaying trance that relieves me of all worry.
When I awake he is waiting. He looks at me, eyes opening my mind ad studying the contents for future reference. I need say nothing, as he knows me, and as I close my eyes, I realize I know him too, although nameless, and without face, and I smile, and he does also, I feel it, even with my eyes sealed beneath lids of pink. He then embraces me, and tells me the secrets of life and things, and I nod, and he hands me a blanket, and lays me to sleep.
My heart beats. Opening my eyes I see things that are familiar to me, although words forgotten, I know that in hours past, something important was said to me. Standing I smile, open the blinds, and find that life is indeed deeper than originally perceived.
unfinished 2
Again I find myself wondering, thinking, trying to make sense of something chaotic, hidden, and broken. Who have I grown to be? Who have I slowly became within the bounds of time that have steadfastly secured my existence? I look in the mirror, but cannot see who I am, instead, I see who I could have been, manifestations of my former life, underdeveloped paths that faded away in the darkness.
Why can I not stand on my own and forge my own road, instead of studying the bricks that have already been laid? Left pondering the meaning of every crack and crevice of roads already traveled. Why can I not start my own journey, instead of just being propelled in the breeze like an unmanned boat with a broken sail?
Sometimes I feel I need a guide, one with spirit and knowledge and a heart full of unknown things. Someone who will pull my head forward and show me possibilities, yet know when to release, at let me form my own destiny. Perhaps that guide should have been myself, but I fear my path has twisted to a point that I no longer have the chance to exit this jungle unless someone sends in the search teams.
But I fear the times have changed too much, and my dreams will be left unknown to me, and I will have to find a home within this land of earth and trees and understand that this is my destiny. Life has offered this path to me, sneakily, and with little intensity so that I could easily stumble upon it without recognizing the agony that might wait for me at the start of the ending.
Why can I not stand on my own and forge my own road, instead of studying the bricks that have already been laid? Left pondering the meaning of every crack and crevice of roads already traveled. Why can I not start my own journey, instead of just being propelled in the breeze like an unmanned boat with a broken sail?
Sometimes I feel I need a guide, one with spirit and knowledge and a heart full of unknown things. Someone who will pull my head forward and show me possibilities, yet know when to release, at let me form my own destiny. Perhaps that guide should have been myself, but I fear my path has twisted to a point that I no longer have the chance to exit this jungle unless someone sends in the search teams.
But I fear the times have changed too much, and my dreams will be left unknown to me, and I will have to find a home within this land of earth and trees and understand that this is my destiny. Life has offered this path to me, sneakily, and with little intensity so that I could easily stumble upon it without recognizing the agony that might wait for me at the start of the ending.
unfinished 1
I stand in a field, body swaying with the wheat. The sky looks down on me and tells me to relax.
Hours pass, I asked shyfully if it might possibly be alright for me to lay down;
Although I am aware that the consequence of this action will leave several of my wheat friends impaired.
But my legs are hurting, and my feet are burning, and my lids keep closing, and I can't stand steadily.
They agree immediately, break themselves, and lay flat for me. A tear swirls down, hitting the ground with an intensity not found on a regular basis.
Only then do I truly understand the consequences of my actions, and see what I have actually done to those that I love.
The ground starts to sink down, and then starts to open, and I can feel the presence of my lost wheat friends, and they beacon, and I follow them in.
I flow in a current that cannot be seen, that is not of water, or of earth or wind, and the presence of my friends lingers and swims and then, they are gone, and I am lost again.
Suddenly I wake, not aware that I had even drifted off, and find myself in a large cavern filled with a small lake.
The water dances methodically over the surfaces, entrancing me, making me feel as if I have never understood anything that has ever been presented to me, and my wheat friends come back, and I cry for them. I made a rash decision that took more than I would have ever bargained for.
I lay back and let the water take me, and as I sink below the swirling surface I find that I can still breathe.
When I reach the bottom I sit in silence, and let the blue depth take over my mind, swirling thoughts through generations of lost thoughts lead to the
Hours pass, I asked shyfully if it might possibly be alright for me to lay down;
Although I am aware that the consequence of this action will leave several of my wheat friends impaired.
But my legs are hurting, and my feet are burning, and my lids keep closing, and I can't stand steadily.
They agree immediately, break themselves, and lay flat for me. A tear swirls down, hitting the ground with an intensity not found on a regular basis.
Only then do I truly understand the consequences of my actions, and see what I have actually done to those that I love.
The ground starts to sink down, and then starts to open, and I can feel the presence of my lost wheat friends, and they beacon, and I follow them in.
I flow in a current that cannot be seen, that is not of water, or of earth or wind, and the presence of my friends lingers and swims and then, they are gone, and I am lost again.
Suddenly I wake, not aware that I had even drifted off, and find myself in a large cavern filled with a small lake.
The water dances methodically over the surfaces, entrancing me, making me feel as if I have never understood anything that has ever been presented to me, and my wheat friends come back, and I cry for them. I made a rash decision that took more than I would have ever bargained for.
I lay back and let the water take me, and as I sink below the swirling surface I find that I can still breathe.
When I reach the bottom I sit in silence, and let the blue depth take over my mind, swirling thoughts through generations of lost thoughts lead to the
Friday, August 13, 2010
Sun
How do I feel about the sun?
It once warmed my skin and fueled my passions in life.
I sat with it day after day and forged ideas about creation and destruction, and it taught me many things. It gave me the courage to be free, but instilled enough fear in me to question if I wanted to be.
The sun was my mentor, my opposite, and my friend.
One day it became very dark, and I asked the stars where the sun had gone. They shrugged their shoulders and told me that it needed to be alone, and had left for awhile. I sat and I wondered why the sun had never spoke of such things to me, and I fretted over why it had left so quickly.
Day after day I rose and set without my fiery friend, and day after day I wondered if I had caused it to question its' nature. Soon I became worried enough that I went to speak with the moon.
It was a daring move, and I shook ever-so-slightly as I approached. The moon glared at me with such intensity that I wished to cower and hide. But I stood tall, and asked the moon if it knew why the sun had left.
The moon was very reluctant to tell the dealings of the sun, but after much debating said this:
"The sun is gone, but is very near, it has grown older, and perhaps wiser, and will return when the time comes".
So I took the words of the moon, and wished, and thought and dreamed, until one day, the sun reappeared.
At first I was very happy to see the sun, because it had always lent itself to lessons and discussions and various unimportant conversations, but this felt different.
With a large smile perched upon my face I asked the sun what it had been up to.
It shuffled around and said that it had decided to think awhile about itself and where it stood.
I asked if this meant things would be different, and the sun replied friendly but hesitantly no.
So I continued my life, and the sun was warm on my skin, and caused a glow in my eye.
But soon my skin became red, and blisters began to form, and my skin began to peel. So I set off to talk to the sun once again.
I asked it how things were going, and it replied that things were going very well. I cautiously brought up the burns that I had recieved earlier that week, and it changed the subject very quickly. When I changed the subject back to the original topic the sun began to flame, so I thought it best to leave.
Later that night the stars told me that the moon needed to talk with me. I once again aproached the moon and he told me that the sun wanted to take some time off from me. I was confused, but agreed that perhaps we needed some time.
For two years the sun stayed on the horizon, sometimes slightly raising and sometimes slightly falling, and all I could do was sigh.
One day as I sat on the beach watching the ocean waves, the sun suddenly popped up in the sky, and decided that it would once again be part of my life. I was ecstatic, and began trying to talk to the sun like we had before so many years before.
The sun was congenial, and answered most of my questions, but they were shallow answers, without much thought put into their creation, and immediately, I was slightly disappointed by the sun. When it had been so far away I dreamed of it's return, we would hike mountain trails and go to the beach together, and discus life and its many elements. But now that it had returned, my dreams were crushed, the sun had went from being the warmth on my skin, to the flares in my memories.
It once warmed my skin and fueled my passions in life.
I sat with it day after day and forged ideas about creation and destruction, and it taught me many things. It gave me the courage to be free, but instilled enough fear in me to question if I wanted to be.
The sun was my mentor, my opposite, and my friend.
One day it became very dark, and I asked the stars where the sun had gone. They shrugged their shoulders and told me that it needed to be alone, and had left for awhile. I sat and I wondered why the sun had never spoke of such things to me, and I fretted over why it had left so quickly.
Day after day I rose and set without my fiery friend, and day after day I wondered if I had caused it to question its' nature. Soon I became worried enough that I went to speak with the moon.
It was a daring move, and I shook ever-so-slightly as I approached. The moon glared at me with such intensity that I wished to cower and hide. But I stood tall, and asked the moon if it knew why the sun had left.
The moon was very reluctant to tell the dealings of the sun, but after much debating said this:
"The sun is gone, but is very near, it has grown older, and perhaps wiser, and will return when the time comes".
So I took the words of the moon, and wished, and thought and dreamed, until one day, the sun reappeared.
At first I was very happy to see the sun, because it had always lent itself to lessons and discussions and various unimportant conversations, but this felt different.
With a large smile perched upon my face I asked the sun what it had been up to.
It shuffled around and said that it had decided to think awhile about itself and where it stood.
I asked if this meant things would be different, and the sun replied friendly but hesitantly no.
So I continued my life, and the sun was warm on my skin, and caused a glow in my eye.
But soon my skin became red, and blisters began to form, and my skin began to peel. So I set off to talk to the sun once again.
I asked it how things were going, and it replied that things were going very well. I cautiously brought up the burns that I had recieved earlier that week, and it changed the subject very quickly. When I changed the subject back to the original topic the sun began to flame, so I thought it best to leave.
Later that night the stars told me that the moon needed to talk with me. I once again aproached the moon and he told me that the sun wanted to take some time off from me. I was confused, but agreed that perhaps we needed some time.
For two years the sun stayed on the horizon, sometimes slightly raising and sometimes slightly falling, and all I could do was sigh.
One day as I sat on the beach watching the ocean waves, the sun suddenly popped up in the sky, and decided that it would once again be part of my life. I was ecstatic, and began trying to talk to the sun like we had before so many years before.
The sun was congenial, and answered most of my questions, but they were shallow answers, without much thought put into their creation, and immediately, I was slightly disappointed by the sun. When it had been so far away I dreamed of it's return, we would hike mountain trails and go to the beach together, and discus life and its many elements. But now that it had returned, my dreams were crushed, the sun had went from being the warmth on my skin, to the flares in my memories.
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