October 28, 2015
This struck me as I'm about to pick what I want to listen to while I do my studies. I like to go classical music all the way to people speaking their hearts and minds on life. I realized that one person cannot tell you how life is. That is why I say I only give my opinions, observations, deductions of my own understanding, and tell people "hey, its up to you," because it is. It's my understanding not someone else's. So expect that as I do from someone who is telling me their revelations and impassioned epiphanies on life, because I know that I don't got everything figured out and nor does the person. Not one person on the face of the earth has it completely figured out.
It would be nice to just hear everything that needed to be done in the right way, the right state of mind, for the best possible outcome, but its not that simple. Never, never, have I heard things said or read word describing life and felt 100% that they were all true. Not even the most bought and read book could convince me of its 100% genuinity. Plus I don't feel we get a guide book anyway.
So many words, thoughts, and profonticatory speeches have all come from a person figuring it out on there own. So, why should anyone else just get it by listening or reading? All I can hope for is that I inspire people to go out there and learn. Feel with your heart and discern with your heart and mind. Those together are the most powerful. And please, for the love of love, don't think you have everything figured out because after those two to three days of clarity, you start to learn even more things about life. It happens to me every time I finish a revolution of understanding.
~Thoughts of a Dreamer~
October 23, 2015
It's that time of day. No, that type of day. No,no, that type of day. No, no, no, I don't think you see it; its that type of day. It is a day to do as much as I can, to feel all that I can feel. No obligations but those I choose for myself. I want to feel empowered, like the very marrow of my bones is lit with the light of energy, like I can at this very moment spread my wings and fly farther and farther, touching where Icarus could not. I want to feel the wind rushing though my hair as I give a triumphant cry as I run accross the daisied field. I want to be impassioned by the rhythmic flow of the ocean telling her story to the cliff side she touches. I want to spin and twirl in a dance with the clouds as they prepare a gathering of storms. I want to dance to the music of the wind whistling in the trees, feeling the heartbeat of mother earth herself below my feet. I want to sing to the sky my hopes, dreams, loves, and yearnings and I want the ocean, forests, wind, and ground to join in as we sing a tune that touches life itself, urging it to go on and to do so with love. I want to encourage a spark in the hearts of the forlorn to feel the freedom that lies withing us all. I want to be carried above the sky to wrap the world in a life bringing rain so that when the sun rises, everyone can take a deep breath and smile at the beautiful sight of themselves and those about them.
At the very least, I want to smile and make others do the same.
~Thoughts of a Dreamer~
Here is a poem I wrote for myself and any person who feels stuck. We are not alone, in fact that feeling is one we entrap ourselves in, so, naturally, we hold the key to our release.
~Thoughts of a Dreamer~
"There is More"
When it feels hopeless,
You turn to the desperate,
But there is more.
When you have fallen,
And the world lends you no hand,
You turn to the easy,
But wait there is more.
You have wronged,
And you built your life up,
But you don't want it any more,
So you despair,
But wait, look, there is more.
You think its over,
That happiness has passed,
No more love is deserved you,
And no more hope fills you,
So you build your penance,
But if you would just see,
There is more.
You were made to believe,
You had no choice,
But you are still here,
Life is a real spark inside you,
Fan the flames with love and light,
And realize, it's a mere affliction,
This deceptive night.
October 20, 2015
Poetry. It is the music to my lips. It is where the taste and feel of the words can be cherished deeply. You can drink deep their meaning and be transported to the moment of their true conception. Gasp and breath in the air that the words sway about you. The tingles of the tongue that can give way to a deep passionate kiss of imagination. Then the creation of love pours out into the air as vibrational tones of such sweet surrender. As the words swirl about our heads before they get taken in by our minds, we sucome to the raw truth that lies within. No motion, no sound, no nonsense, and we are swept up like a feather carried on the breeze to places where our dreams have only glimpsed. It is a journey where life lessons and right or wrong are expressed by the enrapturing emotions of hardship and hopeless, sensual, hapless, needy, deep love. It holds the world's of fanciful moments of plentiful places of wonder, where one could just venture any where and never be forgotten and alone, those places where every where you stride that eternal guide can be as your lovely companion at your side, the places where to fly is life and to walk is a will. It's that moment when words are lost in expressing emotional feeling, but found in how to feel that feeling feels deep inside. It's where words run dry and sensation skitters accross the skin like a lovers touch that gives way to thousands of butterflies.
It is Poetry. When we venture outside our shelters of worry, monogamy, and rigidity, it is the wind that caresses our face whispering freedom into our hearts, and hope into our minds. It is all that is love, loss, renewal, and life joined together like the voice of the ages. Not to be captured, concealed, enslaved, but fought for, challenged, and ever so the victor. It is my unraveled freedom of passion until I stop with rosied cheeks and lips parted for air, as if on some exhilarating run from monstrous confinement.
Oh, its the never ending expression of our hearts that leave the heartless forever scrawled in our works and baffled by the mirrored image they find in our words. It's sight for those who dream of seeing and love for those who do nothing better than feel deeply.
October 19, 2015
The one of the most sought after emotions, but oftentimes, the most misunderstood. What is Happiness? How can we judge what the feeling feels like, tastes like, smells like. How do we explain it, if we understand it, to one who hasn't ever? Is Happiness pleasure, fulfilment, escapism, popularity, to have the illusion of control, or is it the feeling of being completely content? Is it the feeling of dealing peaceful without any qualificatory guilts about how you got there? Would the feeling of Happiness be described as that pivotal moment in life where the things that mean the most are recognized and cherished by the recognizer? It just might be.
When we realize how content we are that's when that unharnessable magic comes in. Once the greed of our wants are left to the dust, once the desire to become better in every negative way possible gets cast aside, and the parasitic fear is discarded in the ruin of all that negativity, does that leave our eyes open to the love and light that is about us as water is to the coral reefs of the vast sea. It's so easy to become overwhelmed. It is so easy to get lost in that miasmatic pool of all that is born of ill will.
Breaking from that is hard, but so worth it. People say if you want it, that infamous it, you have to go out and get it. That it wrong. You don't just get it, or aquire it, you work for it and show you are going to appreciate it by putting time, effort, and energy into it. Another sad thing is that such a tease is rarely used for things of importance, true importance. Advancement in the most meager materialistic way possible has become sought after. However, there will be a multitude of moments illustrating the truth of such an advantageous prospect. They will build upon each other to create a magnifying glass so that those prospects are seen as what they truly are.
The pursuit of what we think Happiness is and what it actually is are two different things entirely. Some may understand it much quicker than others, but nevertheless, it will be understood. Just keep your eyes open, keep your heart open, and keep loving. You'll see. What is Happiness but the acceptance of love within our hearts.
October 15, 2015
Oh, the forest. She lies like the mysterious blanket of mist about her: still but moving softly. The trees align themselves as supports for the life that moves around them, in sync. Walked I did, in this soft mist of caring breath and comforting kisses too small to see but too many to not feel. The moss ridden ground took in each step making me light, carrying me with the strength of nature. My hands graze the loose bark of the trees I pass and I feel their slight hum of approval at my gentile touch. The land carries my tired to a fall of water where the liquid gleams a light that brings life. I kneel to present my hand to the glowing waters. One drop moves to my hand to let me know I may touch. I let the waters heal my worry and doubt that still lingers like a thorn before.
A breeze tousled my hair, letting to know that I am not alone, and I rise to greet the lovely blue eyes of a Raven on a branch. Around his feather neck was adorned a blue ring to show his guard of the water fall. I bowed my head in respect only to lift my eyes to see those same eyes and a smile. The Sentinel held out his right hand so I could take it and we walked the wood together in the sun lit mist.
October 14, 2015
Every now and again, I get faced with something of the past. It either hits me hard or it gradually make it into my life to where I have to stop and realize the correlation to my reveries. It's like experiencing it all again but with new eyes. Once you strip away the ignorant emotion, you can really see how far you have come, and even glimpse where you might go. In that small glimpse I would imagine a moment of déjà vu, as we remember the last time we remembered so deeply.
It is interesting, really, to see and feel the emotions we thought we had forgotten. Like an empty pool filling up with water through tiny holes that mark each experience, we are surrounded by the past and all its little idiosyncratic parts we thought would have been long forgotten. Before long, that moment comes where we are overwhelmed by what we see and feel, wondering if we have changed at all. This is the moment we decide to swim, panic, or drown.
What I find to be most comforting is that breath of air we take in when we reaffirm our new state of being and this person we have become. It could be like breathing in water when we realize who we have become, but thankfully for me, my lungs took in the sweet air of revitalization.
Something that always helps me is knowing I know nothing. I might do a post that goes even more in-depth about this. The basic way to describe it is that when I think I know everything about the world, my heart sinks at the prospect of the vast limitations that I may be apart of. Interestingly, this knowing goes hand in hand with the knowing that here is more, another I might do a post on, and how there is always, always, always, something more to learn and something more out there.
I choose to live and go forth in a way as a means to grow and become better as a person. What some might not know is, it's a lot harder but so much more worth it because I know in my heart I doing good, not the best, not better than, not the worst, but good and I love that feeling.
~Thoughts of a Dreamer~
Labels: becoming stronger, emotions, Experiences, learning, living, moving forward, Musings, new beginnings, new state of being, overcoming, realization, recognition, reflection, rejuvenation, reliving, remembering, review, seeing self, Thoughts of a Dreamer, water
October 13, 2015
This poem I wrote when I was really pushing the limits of my poetry writing capabilities. To be honest, I am quite happy with how this turned out and I hope you all enjoy it.
~Thoughts of a Dreamer~
I’m shaking like a leaf,
Nerves take the lot of me,
Have a cup of tea.
Fear grips my heart,
It’s harder to see,
Have a cup of tea.
Soar through my head,
Ice pick pain,
My head like a pea,
Have a cup of tea.
Gripping the arms of a char,
Breath picks up,
Heart speeds, pounding,
Hands fist tightly,
Feet are tingly,
Have a cup of tea.
And then that phrase,
Who speaks it,
It disturbs the focus,
All the eyes see blur,
And that sentence cuts,
Why must this be,
Have a cup of tea,
Eyes pop open.
The chill is intense,
I wipe my eyes,
A cup of tea would be perfect,
And as if in a nightmare,
All I see:
October 12, 2015
Scrolling on Instagram and liking the pictures with famous people in them, just because there are famous people in them, my eyes start to droop and my IQ starts to drop. This downward spiral seems to be a permanent fixture to the future of me falling into a dreamless sleep and waking up ten times more tired than before, until, out of the wonderful blue, I happen upon something spectacular. What lies before mine now open eyes is a picture that encompasses all things beauty, danger, serenity, and the vast unknown. It seems all at once, worlds seem to spring forth from my writers mind as I write them in my head too fast to catch them in a Times New Roman font. Thus, it begins. I want more. I want to be inspired by the world's that the product of your eyes and camera provide. I want to be able to glimpse the places I have only dreamed of seeing and realize those places look as I have always dreampt they would. I want the inspiration of universal truths expressed in a true fictional story to breath from my lips and flow from my fingertips.
So, I look on every social media I have an account to, and I find the those who expose just enough light to brighten the most tangible dreams yet to be realised and yet to be dreampt.
Thank you, Photographers.
October 11, 2015
This post was originally supposed to be inspired by anger and irritation at someone close to me. However it quickly turned into something completely different.
Frustration, pure and born of panic, raved through me like an angry wind ready to rip me to shreds. All the work I had done, all the preparation that has led me to this point of growing clear with a big idea, seemingly vanished before my very eyes. No, I cannot laugh at my luck, not now, nor could I have shrugged it off and said, "oh well, time to try again," in such a nonchalant tone. A struggle, not as bad as others but one never the less, to get to this point where I am all meant nothing for about five minutes. During those five minutes, whimpers of a soft pain wrapped in a hopeless hope escaped from me, but rage was not an option because I knew it would just turned into a pool of resigned tears beside the face of one who is giving up miserably. The last thing I wanted to do was give. So yes, the tears flowed down my cheeks as I sought to savage my mistake, pleas to fate to prove my suspected idea wrong escaped my lips, and though I would have been seen as pitiful to an outsider's eyes, the battle within was fought with remembering fatherly and motherly phrases of not giving up and hitting rock bottom, but still getting back up.
So as my shaken anxious hands tried to pick up the broken puzzle pieces of this glass picture, I soon realized the light upon them was just obscuring the picture. There was nothing lost, just a shadow of lack of understanding something so simple as a glitch. Oh, and a glitch it was. Inevitably, my heart gave true to a cry of joy that my work, my start had not been tarnished. However, the realistic understanding of the cruelty of the world further caused be to make sure of my joyous discovery, which cut the inner celebration short. It was in fact clear and true my fault lied in only understanding not a bad choice.
My mind was delighted, of course, but now curious more than ever. What exactly was the purpose of such a burst of emotions for, basically, a misunderstanding? I did admit to myself that it had been quite a while since I partook in the bitter fruit of freaking-out. I then concluded that a moment like that every now and again was a good thing to keep us humble, on our toes, and it can reteach us about the importance of conviction and fighting for what you want to achieve. Then it hit me.
My hopes and dreams of living by my pen to spread my work and to spread a positive message is worth something. This is worth fighting for, not because it is mine or it is politically correct, but because it feels right to me. So, what ever I loose would be lost, but no wouldn't have mourned it for too long and I wouldn't have given in. I would have continued writing and writing until my wee heart gave and I still will. What ever obstacle that comes would, yes, be a vast inconvenience and extremely enraging, but I would still have pressed on. The thing that is one of the most interesting things about this experience is that I still held out hope when it seemed there was no chance. What would I have lost? A few blog posts, a contact page, an About page, and a merchandise page. I would have lost followers, status, and some forms of inspiration. Those things aren't the most important though. The most important thing i would have lost is my time and my visualised growth and understanding in what I wanted to achieve. So I fought for it and even if I lost it I would get it back ten-fold with my determination and hope. To be honest, knowing I have that drive make me want it more and that's why, despite the tears and feeling of freaking, I am pretty happy about that experience.
October 5, 2015
This mark of reddened skin is the product of my hand and uncontrollable nerves that cause my forearm to fly in target of my face. Why my face you ask? Well this only happens when, for no reason, I flash back to la-la-land to a time and place when i was so willing to make a big fool of myself and shamelessly pass it off as "being cool".
Let's face it, we all have had this problem and if you haven't yet, you will. All that needs to happen is some vast clear acceptance, because if you let stuff like that hammer you into the ground, it gets harder and harder to pull yourself up. This is particularly hard for me because someone out there holds the face of my embarrassment in the form of a still attractive young man who's expressions of confusion and discomfort haunt me still.
The quick story with that is that I built this young man's "beauty" and "coolness" up in my head as something that made me feel less then; so, I tried to be the, lets say, "cool chick". Honestly, with my luck, I should have known of the terrifying embarrassment that would unfold before his very eyes...but, life goes on and thought the memories hit me like a tun of bricks labeled "IDIOT", I just have to remind myself that that was years ago and move on.
That's the hardest part though, to not let it hit us deep and to be light about some of the crazy things we have done in the past, while not harboring any ragret, not even a letter, and managing to smile with our hearts. Lingering is never good and forgetting can be even worse, because we never have that luxury for too long. Some how, some place, some time, and some way that one tun bag full of "IDIOT" labled bricks will fly our way. So there is no forget the past, there is no turning a blind eyes to faults we expressed at times of pure unadulterated ignorance. The strength comes in admitting, after years, you did dumb stuff and then coming to turns with who you are now, older and hopefully wiser. Pretending this never happens only leaves room for a weakness in character. Confronting the choices you made with recognition of ownership sets forth a path of growth, should you choose to come to terms with it.
The truth is, the past is never buried for long, and before you know it, the bag comes flying at you, whether you have the tolerance for it or not.
~Thoughts of a Dreamer~
October 3, 2015
It's the slow eye twitch, the throbbing head ache, and the constant trips to the bathroom. It comes over like a flood as your mind starts to connect the planks of a bridge going down hill. All of this for something you have no capability of touching, let alone impacting for the better. The most realistic realisation that there are things going on in this world that are out of our control can make us feel helpless, it can make us feel angry, and it can make us feel so very sad. We can either force an emotional detachment or only, simply, focus on what we can do.
If we realized the importance of our capability to impact lives in a positive way, it will not only help others but ourselves as well. No more head aches for over thinking, no more nosebleeds from crying for hours, and no more resounding sadness for feeling helpless because of the fact that we are making an impact with kindness, respect, selflessness, and other forms of positivity.
However it's not just a choice to do something but a choice to become healthier through doing something that doesn't have to be big or small, but its something. Many times have I worried about people I couldn't help or places that were seeing hard times but I made the difference I could, by not injecting the worry and frustration I was feeling, but by taking a stance in the positive. Lord knows, it is so hard to keep a positive attitude and people don't make it easy at all, but the trying for a better way to be just makes me try harder because I know its right in my heart. To be loving and compassionate to those who need it and to help out someone when you can, these are the simplest forms of helping and it means more to the one being helped than the one helping will ever know. And that is so worth it.