I used to think that being surrounded by likeminded people was always a good thing.
It absolutely can be, to an extent. When you feel as if you’ve found “your people,” life starts to feel a bit less overwhelming simply due to the proximity of those familiar faces. You can find support in others, comfort in friends, and peace among the people you care about most. But this isn’t about the benefits of friendship, it’s about the hazards of stagnation that same comfort presents.
As I’m sure anyone who grew up in a small town can attest to, being surrounded…
It’s a weird feeling, seeing yourself in an entirely different light.
It’s the closest thing we have to seeing ourselves through the eyes of another person. When we reframe who we think we are, without rejecting the possibility that we could be wrong about ourselves, we open ourselves up to truths normally well hidden. We catch a glimpse of what it must be like to see ourselves as a stranger might meeting us for the first time and experiencing the initial impression of what we’re like.
With enough digging any sort of deep introspection is bound to yield results. If…
In a world slowly becoming more and more governed by the idea that how you identify yourself is paramount, there has emerged also the notion that every person, no matter how ludicrous their personal claims of identity, is already somehow perfect in who they currently are at any given moment.
Forget growth as the natural effect of new information, to hell with health standards or objective beauty of any kind, and damn those who dare claim that your debilitating self-perception and mental state is anything less than exactly who you should be because, after all, it’s who you are.
It can’t stand the silence.
It either sustains itself on the spectral energy of the past, or entertains itself in the confusing and anxious haze of the future. The present moment takes its breath away in the same manner that stumbling upon a solar eclipse might take away ours.
The ego can’t survive unless we feed it from either our memory or our uncertainty. …
It’s kind of like seeing the check engine light come on in your car, putting a piece of tape over it to willfully ignore the issue and hoping it goes away on its own, then forgetting you had ever covered it up in the first place.
Until a few years later you started hearing a suspicious clunk under the hood. It’s alarming at first, but you continue driving on your merry way. Every car starts to make weird noises after a while, right? Another month passes, another clunk. Another week, clunk-clunk. …
We all come across situations in our lives where things go from calm to confrontation in the blink of an eye.
Some people are poised to handle these kinds of situations and almost seem as if they’ve been waiting for a calamity so they can spring into action and take control. But alas, not all of us are ready and waiting for these kinds of moments and when they show up our relaxed nature is tested in ways that we aren’t prepared for.
If you’re the sort of person that’s used to dealing with ill-tempered people, or physical danger, or…
It’s like being blinded by the opaque fog of the dead. Pupils smoked into the grey shroud of a novice shaman. Another misstep resulting in coughing up more charred bark than cosmic secrets. I just can’t hold on to the mystic mojo long enough to woo the priestess of All Things Intangible. She sees through my parlor tricks and one note ponies. …
Thanks, Amanda I appreciate that! And also I'm glad you commented on that line because I see now that I misworded it a bit lol Fixed!
Apparently, it’s what I wanted.
To be stricken with the spell. To deal with the daily duel of fencing with my lesser instincts.
I always wanted to be the sort of artist that had a direct line to that otherworldly woo-woo, but I know now I wasn’t prepared for its insidious monkey’s paw nature when it comes to the unseen prices you have to pony up.
Decent, but not particularly noteworthy. The potential was there, but so too was a vacant maw where my self-esteem should have been. …
And then I saw
the primal crawl
One shot, two screws loose
Big speech to the void
and the graveyard shawl
It’s the Ouija Bee Gees
Way I Walk
Eyes to the blackboard
Got a see-through frame
from the spine to the stalk
I’m a synapse specter
no need to gawk
Got bored with the cage
so I made like a hawk
I remain here tempest bound but seated in skin, made of static and bloody saltwater Because on the coast it’s death by a thousand papercuts From the pages you read and forgot…