Let Go of Everything

Never had much in the first place, this should be an easy task. Won’t hold back, thirsty so I’ll drink straight out the bottle. Hard to see, the only things that held you together vanish like a memory. This bottle is finished, barely remember drinking it. Thinking steadily, hands open readily. Drop any and everything known to me. It was over in a second. Stuck with the after taste for a couple of minutes. Never had much, what’s the fuss, hold up, attachment. Still found myself scrabbling for more time as my identity dared to hit the ground. Maybe if I hold the bottle upside down long enough. Residue will join hand in hand, flowing with gravity to form a droplet. Just enough for me to have a taste once more. In actuality, a common fallacy. What shot to the ground was me. Imagine a baseball player diving for home run. How else was he supposed to make it.

That’s what it felt like. Suspended in mid-air, hold the thought there. This is the source of my issue because, of this feeling I’ll dis too, mistreat, chop of feet and even, strangle the life out of somebody. All my life I’ve been known as the good guy. Worked hard. To get put up, this high in everyone else’s mind. Take that from me. Sure sounds a lot like death to me. Who would I be. What would other’s see. Need outside opinion to be complete. Not ready to take that second step into the unknown. Forever in the zone, safer place than home. Upon a throne, wining at this game called life alone.

If I’m a winner. What reasons do I have to be so desperate to win in this moment. Look at me, going so far as to, one-up myself. At the sake of my own health. Drop everything I’m doing if that means I get the chance to show off. Diving for nothing there. Since when is identity just the parts and not it’s entirety. The disgust felt, watching myself now, tiring. No wonder, most people just give up when around me. How you out clown a clown. Out ass an ass and live with a man who is only comfortable when everyone else isn’t. You just kinda give him what he wants. You can tell he really needs this.

Even with all this, Feelings still in a free fall. Who would I be without this. Dumb-ass, you’ll still be you. Although true. I’m more afraid of finding out who I truly am. A bird or a rat with wings. To fall down is to be weak. The thought, feeling, a little tweaked. Falling. Have yet to truly fell. Stay suspended in hell. Funny though, for an illusion I clearly fell. My identity was mines to begin with. Proving it, is the next step. Don’t know how, no confidence to figure it out. So we shout. Acting proud all the while dumb found.

Silly of me to cling onto a cloud. Every changing, parts rearranging. Even if It flipped upside. Took the shape of a clown, Poor sucker, lazy fucker. It would still be a cloud. Inspire to be just like a cloud. That thought came to me the moment, I allowed myself to fall down. Eat dirt, stained my shirt, no longer a player, didn’t make it back  home to first. Oh well. Things could always go better or worst.

Let Me Ask For Help

Feeling lost in my body

Too many answers, too many directions. Knowing where you are and where you want to go, lead me to this feeling. Too many options with promises just as good as the last. Hard to say yes to one, while saying no to all. Before I ask for anything, give first the motto. At first ran into issues, it was too clear I wanted something in return. Now once the other person is satisfied if they look to help out after. I no longer care, the goal is to show appreciation. The entire world will not always willingly accept your gifts.

looking for advice on how to operate in this life, those with more time spent living, should know right. Double my age, most likely been lost at least twice. The foundation you’ve set on shifting sand, has not moved, even slightly. Not looking for guidance to the light at the end of the tunnel, wishing to hear about your experience reaching, the light. It blinds me more than the shadows I’m surround by. More comfortable here, where visibility is unclear. At least we know what we are dealing with. So we ask

“How was your day ?”

The response is always, more or less the same.

Since I’ve been born, nothing has been simple. Only thing given to me is punishment for wanting things, easy. Is the second to last word I learned, right after unfair. No control over anything, definitely not, how I feel about it. This body borrowed, belonging to faces never seen, whose words burn, a profound effect on me. Slight nudges here and their on who we should be and how we should act. Becoming more violent as we grow up. An Adult needs to be able to take this. Going out everyday to submit to the pain, for myself, I will make a name.

Didn’t ask to be here. Sure as hell not leaving, we all have equal claim to the ground we stand on. Which continues to exist, regardless if we are present or non-extinct. Deepening our agony, whoever came before made it like this. Everyday a drop in the bucket, that isn’t close to filled. “Tomorrow” an abstract concept, once I get their, then I’ll deal with it. Lost, irritated, tired , hopeful, numb, mindful, resentful, patient, downtrodden, uplifted and content. Aren’t the right words but, together they form meaning. All out war with life ever since, I started taking care of myself. Day by day I lose pieces, unable to take a break, caring for myself. An upper hand chance, life is more than willing to take.

Shame sets in. My bad day, doesn’t seem as bad anymore. Juxtaposed  to a real problem. Feeling better, not from knowing it’s a part of life, you’ll get through it. No, someone has it worst. Only reason you know now, you stopped complaining and took the time to ask.

Let’s complain tomorrow instead

Sitting in my boxers


Imagine for a second, lifting your arm straight up, above your head, now jump back to catch a frisbee. It’s always a game at first. No stakes, nothing personal, amusing ourselves with this fun. Getting more into it we end up walking out, with a lot less than what we started with. Caught up in the moments of tension, I lost part of myself. Taken with my reasoning, while spreading a web of white lies. Imagine jumping back now, not falling this time. Thoughts wrapping.

“yeah you caught this frisbee, now you’re going to throw it back” !

Actions slightly off balance. They notice it.

“Hmm he threw it a little harder this time, what’s their aim ?”

The return a little higher this time. I fall down while looking stupid. Pride a little hurt.

“I wasn’t planning on falling down today!”

The back and forth seeming endless as long as they throw it back you will do the same, we don’t want to be the one carrying the Frisbee, for the rest of the day. Both spinning the smallest of silk. Hungry to send the Frisbee back at them, hoping to hit, by accident. A game no more, not looking to get hurt, instinctively hurt first. I will carry the frisbee for the day but, you will carry that pain much longer. This is war, the battle is already won. The fear is gone and the tension is over, I realized that you aren’t a spider. You didn’t spin a web. Stuck in the moment you became my prey, to fill my desire for comfort. I didn’t want to let you know the truth, scared you would have power over me, I made sure I had power over you. Landing back down from the jump. Ready to return and have fun only with myself.

Repackaged Gift

via Daily Prompt: Cur

Sometimes we find ourselves unable to sleep. Reasons piling on the millions. How did this occur. During the times of unrest, the only way to escape the storm is to sail into the center. Everything happens for a reason. I don’t believe in destiny however, cause and effect is a undeniable factor of the world. My world. Back tracking through the flow of time, waves violently crashing. Life won’t let the journey be that simple. I toss and turn in discomfort, on a cloud of a bed. Eyelids crush each other closed. Time eludes us, hours passed since we last gave up trying to sleep and opened our eyes. Tomorrow will be here soon.
Yet still, my center feels so Strange. My being in turmoil and confusion. More time pass, finally the center of the storm, the cause of it all. Light, shining through and events line up in a sequence from tallest to shortest, height final visible. The same dirt I tossed into the world, orbited and landed back into my face. always During my lowest, during my most vulnerable. The light rips into my eyes, it’s morning already. Makes sense, rest isn’t deserved. Time to wash my face and prepare for more dirt to come.

Get what you give

My Cyborg Self


Provide the Space

Friend= ME
Paid Actor = Closest friend
Shorty = I like her even more
Shorty: It’s not all about you “Friend”

Here we are again, almost as if purposely, I drove down the wrong side of the street. “Shorty” as the traffic officer, tired of giving me tickets, impounds the car. I swear, I’m paying attention to the road and following the traffic signs. That I’m not just acting or disregarding your warnings and tickets. It’s just that, before you started the job, I’ve been going down this road my whole life. Everyone I’ve ever known drives down this road. Even you, when you aren’t on duty.

” I don’t inspire to be selfless”

“Thinking only about the self, skews information.”

“Cloudy information makes it harder to see the sun”
“Feeling conflicted”

“The only time the concept of selfishness comes up is during the conversations I have with her”
“When comfortable more of myself is willing to come out”

“Around “shorty” I am most comfortable”
” If she is seeing parts of me, no-one else gets to see, her insight should hold a lot of weight”

“Which of my actions, gives off the strongest feeling of selfness. Back track from there to the thought process behind it, then the feelings.”

After some thought by breaking down my actions piece by piece. The Letter “I” is ever-present. Lots, if not all of my sentences start and end with “I”. Even the middle is dominated by “I”.  Always, all about me.

” How did I end up here, when usually my goal is to learn more about others during conversation.”

Friend : ” Yooo, bro, hear this predicament !”

Paid Actor:  “You selfish as fu*k bro, I just never tell you. I like the freelance work.” *puts down script*

” Even, my closest friend agrees. “

” He is a great listener, I know he looks to understand first before anything. So much so, If I don’t stop talking he won’t find the opportunity to jump in.”

“Shorty is a greatest listener thus far”

” All the more reason to trust her…..”

With that finally being acknowledged. I’m beginning to understand the catalysis that, makes the interactions with her different from most. In most conversations, the hat of a listener is worn more often. “Shorty” never takes off, her hat. In the moments where I feel I’m truly being understood. I can’t help but, to talk.

“I” statements are my primary way of expressing that feeling of ” hey, let’s open up and talk to each other” . When I open up, I do it to provide a space where, the other people can feel comfortable, not attacked or judged.

“People naturally like to talk about themselves, making ambiguous statements about myself, others naturally talked about themselves too.”

“Shorty rarely talks about herself unless asked”

“of course, since I’m being Hurd, I go on and on…”

Without her natural drive to partake and bring herself up. We would literally only talk about me for hours. She didn’t bring herself up so I assumed, she was just really interested in talking about me. Little did I realized, she was waiting for the go ahead. The definitive instance, where it was absolutely clear, she is the star of the show (my world).

Talking about myself and waiting for others, to bring themselves up isn’t the only method of finding out more, of bonding.”

” The thought never occurred to me”

“Repeat it, to make it stick”

My new goal is to be a megaphone. For her, first and foremost. Secondly for people who are less inclined to talk about themselves. Everyone has something unbelievably amazing about them. Listen long enough and you will find out. I already feel amazing about myself, irregardless if others know or care to know.

Provide the silence