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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Shut Down

128 days since I’ve scrawled along a line or 2,

Enough numbers though but do I really have the words?

This has been the question I’ve asked myself for years now,

I have these desires but do I have the materials that are required to create?

Am I just hacktivist of the English language,

A mere blasphemer of the religion that is Context.

 

Enough with the feathery language.

Enough has been a common word in my mind lately.

I don’t really know why,

But even while I have occasional desires

it seems like I’ve reached the point of oversaturation with many things.

 

Many dates and ways of traveling can be had in life,

But will we actually go?

Is fear or possible confusion worth your time?

I say just grab the duffle and boarding pass,

And forget about the ground below until you get to wherever is the final stop.

 

I thought I was lost recently,

But I realized that being found isn’t something that is always desirable.

Among personalities both familiar and new,

You occasionally hide who you might be.

Although I’ve become more skilled at hiding from myself

it seems,

Rather than hiding from others.

I blurt out facts of intimate knowledge early into the process of getting know one another,

And before I know it horror has overtaken the possibility of friendship or even camaraderie.

But is this something to be troubled by or looked at as a helpful process of preventing time invested into a pointless relationship?

This question continues to paralyze and excite me, with each social situation I encounter.

The worst part about questions, though,

Is that we sometimes find the answer.

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Kneel & Disconnect

Entranced by familiarity once despised,

Not because anything likeable has been found;

But because your visceral feelings are now faded memories.

Vacant.

Empty and cold.

Only the debris remains.

Damaged Departures,

wishing it could’ve been done secretly.

Arriving while absent,

Overwhelmed by a flood of emotions with more hate than ever before

while remaining too exhausted to care.

My mind and the sky are twins today;

Cloudy, dark, and unwilling to change.

It’s been 3 months now,

And there is no time limit in sight;

However, implications of a grave future are melodramatic at best.

Adjustments are needed,

Continued change is somehow stunted but looking possible to start again;

The way we thought it was “back then”,

When things were “exactly how they should be”.

What a damned, filthy lie that was.

I could say I’m out of options,

But what would that do or say of my character?

I could wait for something “to happen”;

But that languorous state of being has brought me to this present moment.

“Where do I start?”, some might say.

Just start from exactly where you are at this moment,

Keep going,

And don’t stop until you arrive …

Somewhere, as long as it is not here.


 

 

 

 

 

 

From an Involuntary Beginning to an Inevitable Ending

Without even trying,

I’m most aware of myself

once another human being has entered the room I’m in.

Call this perpetual anxiety,

Or perpetual lack of privacy;

They don’t even have to notice I exist,

Let alone my presence,

But I’m often unexplainably compelled to leave.

Do we fear death because we don’t understand,

Or is it that we fear life because all we can understand is death?

For it seems fair & honest to say that no human being,

No one alive,

Before birth ever asked about or agreed to being born.

However, many people often ask to die

and some choose to take primary responsibility for it happening.

It’s as if we wish we had a button that could switch our lives on or off,

Much like the machines we revolved our lives around & often live through more actively than our mortal shell.

At least in this current generation,

It’s as if our phones are more alive than a fair amount of our youth;

The people are who supposed to “create our tomorrow”,

When they aren’t even alive today.

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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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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.

Exit Sign or Starting Line

Time to pack it in,

Get on up and out of here.

Leaving with less than I arrived with,

But also more than I could have expected.

I’ve learned a whole bunch of nothing,

And pieces of a few things.

I don’t know where to go,

Or what to say;

I just know I’m leaving,

And my eyes are to remain straight ahead

not looking back for even a second.

My brain is faint,

Eyes are drooping & dropping;

Either I’m tired or too tired of being tired.

And so, is an exit sign  or a starting line?

I guess it’s a matter of perspective.

Either way, this is one line

I’m definitely looking to cross.

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