Compromised Focus

Screaming in basements to avoid being heard,

Typing out thoughts so patience doesn’t have to be tested,

It’s all become so routine;

Figuring out how to make the loudest noise yet remain concealed

In an absent-minded and loud world.

Exhausted at the resonance of criticism,

Flattened by the glare of chosen ignorance,

My disdain for sleep is tested by my stronger desire to avoid people.

While my body will be in far worse pain if I lay down uselessly,

It’s better than the pain of being surrounded by people

whose interactions feel like they’re done out of duty rather than hospitality.

Why believe you’re in a group when the people make you feel lonely?

Why sit next to someone who seems as though they’re deaf to your voice only?

I’m confused as to what relationships are actually supposed to do,

Especially since people seem to favor conversations on screens involving icons and abbreviations,

Rather than human engagement and sound.

Why should I see you in person when I can see you just fine on my phone screen?


Don’t waste your touch You won’t feel anything

 

 

Au revoir, à mon coeur et à mon âme

Walking pathways of death as respectful as one is able,

You find an occasional numb in the midst of being overwhelmed or unknowing of what to do and how to feel.

Faces of those who might know the area as home are illumined and regarded,

Faces of those visiting are studied as well out of curiosity,

And then those who are seeking a new home in this unfamiliar land;

They are the ones who you do your best to assure they have been seen,

While the world may seemingly pass them by.

In a world on edge,

Below ground can be a place to find peace.

When walking caverns that have become hallowed halls of history,

A certain stillness is found even when actively observing your surroundings;

knowing you’ve temporarily escaped the chaos and noise of society above.

In refining one’s self, you find that you also lose pieces of your “self”;

It makes you wonder if it’ll all be worthwhile,

or if it will be just another phase or season.

Something meant for a scrapbook rather than a defining step forward as a human,

Compulsion rather than immersion.

My critical eyes have been poked many times over,

But I believe the time has come to gouge them out.

For I’d rather gain knowledge blindly and objectively,

then have the privilege of sight but also the handicap of unneeded critique.

With bones dislocated, emotions suppressed or dead, and a mind rather empty;

What good would I pose as just another spoon fed oaf?

As I prepare to leave,

I don’t have a final destination.

As the mirror reflects a face that is familiar,

I don’t immediately acknowledge it as my own.

Maybe a shadow of someone I knew,

Or someone I’d rather forget I met.

Just a sketch of someone or something,

From a place no longer existent.

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Choices: Arrival & Departure

Words, for close to a year now;

Have been nearly impossible to find.

A paragraph of personal writing seemed to require an act of God,

But considering all existence is an act of God in and of itself;

I guess, it’s not as grand of a challenge as first imagined.

My mortality is the one thing giving me peace at the moment,

A world of difference from the anxiety it has provided historically.

 

Where or what I call home is officially immaterial,

And I’m grateful.

I’ve experienced things I thought always wanted recently,

Under circumstances I would’ve never chosen,

And yet I’m ready to let it all go.

To move on and have it exist merely as a memory.

Timing is still sensitive though,

That will never change.

And I’m grateful for this as well,

For it helps my reason keep on fighting my impulses quite well.

Onto another year of life,

Filled with questions and possibly not many answers

But who says that is anything to be upset about?

Another year, that I will gladly live one day at a time and no more.

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New Versions of Old Ideas

You can only talk to yourself for so long,

No matter what could be the topic burning in your brain;

It’s far more exhausting sometimes just keeping track on your train of thought,

Than even the most awkward of interactions with others.

There is something about it though,

That glare of another persons eyes;

Burning through your back,

A look so familiar & yet unique for every situation.

Sometimes it’s a look of disdain or disgust,

It also could simply be a look of shock or listlessness.

But it sometimes just feels like the no vacancy sign is on worldwide,

And the only room for you is inside;

Inside your own head.

And you’d never think it could,

But it just might;

Now the one who wants to throw you out,

The one who doesn’t want you around is yourself.

Resign or Refine?

It’s all pretty simple.

Although, that’s only in word

where simplicity is found.

Ultimately, it’s a choice only oneself can make.

Just remember, that when you start to think you know;

You don’t.

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I Won’t be Around

I miss missing you, I used to think distance was a curse; But now I love how far you are from me. The distance you are from me though, Is relative when considering how far out of reality you live. If you aren’t blind, It’s a wonder if you’re eyes even exist. Delusion is your middle name. Illusions are all you seek in relationships, But unfortunately it isn’t all you’re offered. I don’t have time to name you, Just the way you forgot I ever came around; Thankfully I didn’t know how to be present when it all came down. But when it blew up, Like gas to a book of fiery matches, It was both obvious & vague how you wanted things to be. Different than my usual routine, I’m walking forward instead of running away. Some thought I had signed up for a marathon, But I quickly took off my shoes & sat down. My calloused feet are becoming soft again, And the blisters bleeding aren’t even the worst experience with how I feel. I used to beg for people to forget me, Then I found they did it perfectly well on their own. I used to be grateful for this discovery, And then suddenly; As sudden as a change in weather, I started caring & it hurt a bit to swallow this glass shard of a pill. I wish I had more to say, But that’s how it’s been these days. My mind will race with the youthfulness found in a pack of stallions, Charging forward amidst passion & surpassing logic quite often; And then the audience is rendered deficient in attention, And suddenly the wall is proven to be solid when my bloodied mug recovers from the most recent collision. ——————————————————————

Tolerant Smiles & Body Piles

On the surface I appear to be but one thing,

But really I’m a mixture or combination of many.

It seems my skin,

Or at least its shade of pigment,

Is both an advantage & deception.

But much like everyone else could say,

It’s just how I was made.

On that note though,

How some were made has led others to take the life out of them.

And that isn’t right.

Saying it isn’t right,

Isn’t even right in and of it self!

It’s not strong enough to describe the real wrongdoing committed.

You see I come from two different cultural backgrounds by birth,

And a melting pot of another via my place of living.

But because the color of my skin,

Is that of the shade or color that is considered “normal” or “typical”;

I can typically go unnoticed and unharmed.

This isn’t and hasn’t always been the case.

When I was younger,

My “culture” was a little more easily seen,

You could say my “true colors” were on display.

Realistically I just got more sun than I typically do now.

Not making light of something that has literally started wars,

I want to admit my own shortcomings;

I want to say that I’ve been the offender as much as I’ve been the offended,

If not more.

And for that,

I truly am sorry and what to say that I am committed to doing better.

To living differently, & not tolerating anything else.

That doesn’t mean I’m judge jury or executioner to society,

I am only these things to a slight degree unto myself.

But I also won’t be silent,

That I may be confused as someone who is in approval of hate being spread;

Spread like the virus it is,

Akin only to the most violent of cancers.

Circumstances aside,

The only reason the world could truly crumble today;

Is because of the waves of hatred in human form,

That we (myself included) have decided to wash our society away in.

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This in response many things, but I finally was beyond being compelled to respond when I read this blog entry from Austin Channing-http://austinchanning.com/blog/logical-conclusion You all don’t have to, but I’d ask you to consider reading it as well. I am of Mexican & Italian blood, but an American born young man; to most though, I’m considered just another Caucasian person at least because of skin pigment. Interpret that how you will, because I don’t think I need to explain what goes into that description of people; and unfortunately it’s not just on a small scale, it’s a worldwide scale.

Things Better Lost Forever than Kept Temporarily

Loss is inevitable,

& ironically accidental on occasion.

The loss of materials however,

Are often given more importance than they’re due.

Even easier than our bodies,

All materials will eventually rot away back to formless dust.

Saying goodbye is healthy,

Not always ideal;

But better to learn willingly than be brainwashed into it.

In our world that avoids pain at all costs,

Perseverance is made out to be synonymous with jadedness.

In a time of history where stepping back & admitting wrongdoing,

whether on a local or international scale,

is something seen as stupid rather than noble & brave;

What more could you expect?

Don’t dread loss or avoid farewells long overdue,

In being encompassed by this resistance to reality;

You’ve effectively already lost you’re main & probably most unique to society.

Yourself.

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