My two eyes are open, yet a third seems to emerge eager to join the fun.
It possesses a chemical clarity afforded only to those with a curiosity about what’s behind reality’s curtain.
That, or anyone with a spare ten bucks.
Two tabs on the tongue, salty air in a pair of young lungs. I approach the sand-scratched sliding glass door to our rented beach house and step outside onto the balcony overlooking the water. Looking out into the now undulating world, the ocean breeze fans my hair with a whispered howl, calling for me to join it in the…
With a final enthusiastic huff and puff, my hand reaches out and grabs a sign post marked “End of Trail.” Along with two wooden benches settled on either side of it, the three fixtures make up the only greeting party at the end of my one-man race.
As I catch my breath I look at my surroundings to take it all in. My mind is finally quiet, as is the space outside of it. …
And like this ant
on the cautious trek
across this ten-year towel
Minding the frays
Circumventing the stains
like a stray dog in an alien desert
cruise the crystal
as I lost crawl the pixel
There’s foam at my toes
and I stand naked as the day I was born
Perhaps more so
because of my awareness of the fact
Yet I strut stark
Finally a breeze
on the undercarriage of this meaty mascot
God’s forgotten bony robot
Carving out cartilage with every knee creak
Shivers in the scaffolding with every whisper
The more consistent I’ve been in my pursuit to better myself, the more I’ve noticed that no matter how many different versions of self-help I come across, there are really only a handful of things that have shown real results in how I think. Three things, to be exact.
The myriad ways available to us to evolve as people and expand our capabilities as individuals are all essentially the streams and creeks that when followed, lead us back to one of three main rivers of growth. …
I want to try and articulate exactly what’s going on in the underachiever’s mind when he finally runs into a wall he can’t sneak past.
I’m doing this for myself as much anyone else because — you guessed it — I am a card-carrying veteran of B.U.M. (The Bored of Underachieving Men). And yes, I spelled that right. Saying “Board” made it seem a bit too official and businessy and like an organization that would actually require work so, naturally, I avoided the word entirely.
There’s a lot of wisdom behind the phrase, “Fake it till you make it.”
On one, more shallow hand, you can see this as “pretend you are the thing you want to be until you are said thing.” On the other hand, I think it can be taken much deeper. I’m choosing to see this phrase not in the external sense of trying to become something I want to be, or at least be seen as on the outside, but rather using the strategy of “faking it” as a tool to use in my own positive development.
What I mean…
It’s easy to feel like you’re lost
among the screams and whispers
Feeling like the middle child
on a planet of brothers and sisters
Clawing for a crown of thorns
blood staining our teeth
Separating flesh from bone
no mind for what’s beneath
Hacking through our jungle fears
more machete than we’re man
Reaching out with pointed blade
not used to holding hands
Love for love and hate for hate
seems like an easy trade
But judgement passed will stain the last
Look at the mess you’ve made
Our spirit slipped, we let it drown
now sunken sons and daughters
I’m going to stop sharing my ideas with people.
Maybe you should too.
Not that everyone should, or that it’s always a bad thing, but the more often you share your ideas with other people, the less often you’re actually going to follow through on them. At least, that’s been the case for me.
I have a bad habit of feeling the inner gestation of something exciting and original, only to cut it into pieces and share the slices with anyone willing to listen. This ends up leaving me with a mere morsel of motivation left over for myself.
I could say
that the pieces are in place
that the deepest creases have been greased
and that I now possess the steely demeanor
of a well-oiled machine
I could pretend
it all functions
with the graceful ease
of a veteran wing
the awkward stumbling
from the nest
Always mistaking the falling for flight
Always finding my feathers
I hit the ground
But I’m not a fresh leg out of the egg
The joy of a toy out of the box
I am in perpetual repair
Remaking missing pieces
Replacing forgotten faces
with secondhand expressions
and clunky heart parts…
I was angry the other day.
In fact, I was downright pissed.
You see, I bought a used car about a month ago. I got a really good deal on it and it runs and looks great. Little to no maintenance required as of yet.
As we all know, when you first buy something new (regardless of it technically being used) you want to keep the new thing looking as good as you can for as long as you can before the inevitable happens and it starts to get worn down.
Think about your phone.
When you first…