Lost Again

I’m finding myself,
There I am; then lost again.
Where should I look now?

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Routine

Same thing,
Same thing
Every day;

No change,
No change
In work or play.

Steady,
Stagnant,
Tame decay;

Tired,
Familiar,
Life as cliche.

Uncommon,
Different,
Something new;

Defiant,
Disturbed,
Contrary few.

Surprise,
Confound,
Avoid routine;

Live life
As human,
Not as machine.

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Cupid’s Lovesick Freak

Do you see the desperation in my eyes?
Is that why you’re waving good-bye
When I’ve hardly had time to say hello?

Do you hear the longing in my words?
Is that why you seem so deterred
When I’ve barely had time to speak?

What is it you see?
What is it you hear?
Won’t you please tell me?
Be sincere, no, severe!

I’ll change, and I’ll hide
That which pushes away;
I’ll keep it inside,
And no longer betray

My desire, the lust
For a soul understanding;
For a deep, certain trust,
For that love undemanding.

But it’s still just pretend,
For my longing, that ache,
Breaks through and offends,
Reveals my composure as fake.

And then they see the desperation in my eyes,
And they wave good-bye without waiting to know

Or hear the wistful words that die
On the lips of an admiring freak.

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No Longer a Choice

Where did the time go;
Where is the me of yesterday?
Where did my dreams go,
And why am I here today?

How did I get here
And can I go back?
The future’s not clear;
My vision’s gone black.

Dare I go on,
Must I keep to this course?
Is the past really gone,
Am I cut off from my source?

No longer a choice,
The path has been taken;
No longer a voice
To say, “I was mistaken.”

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Let Light Invade

Let light invade,
And drive the darkness all away;

Let confidence come,
And then tear self-doubt to shreds.

Let sadness fade,
And let not happiness be prey

Nor hope succumb
To life’s many fickle threads.

Let anger go,
And cast out suspicion too;

Let fear escape,
With despair as well to follow.

Let power flow,
To fight all existence through;

And let courage find shape
In a heart no longer hollow.

Let light invade,
And lift the veil,
Of darkness in the mind;

Let mind evade,
Once more prevail,
No longer be confined.

Let light crusade
And pierce the veil
Of darkness in the mind;

Let light invade,
And without fail,
Give sight back to the blind.

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Always the Wall

Taking down a wall
That will not go away;
Grows stronger still and rises high,
A little more each day.

Breaking down the wall
That just won’t go away;
Chip here and there, but though I try,
The wall seems set to stay.

It hides my mind, conceals my soul,
And yet how I long to show
The world who I really am;
Bask in recognition’s glow.

Let in the light,
Let people see,
Let someone know me true;
The wall blocks out,
The wall obscures,
Lets only figments through.

And yet here I am, behind the screen,
Wait for someone to see in,
Past the wall my self’s put up to keep
My heart’s hope from growing thin.

A paradox, it seems, but while
There’s no one able to know
My mind complete, still there’s a chance
To be found when out I go.

And thus the wall protects, and guards my soul,
Somehow keeps alive the flame,
For though there may be failure and defeat,
There’s always the wall to blame.

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You Are Here

They say that wherever you go, there you are – “they” being, of course, that inexplicably all-knowing, strangely anonymous yet supposedly unerring font of collective human wisdom from which I would ordinarily try to take any advice with a grain of salt. After all, if they’re anonymous, how do you know whether they actually followed their own advice? Did they live according to their own commonsensical laws? (And did it help them?) If the Wikipedia has taught us anything, it’s to always cite your sources.

Nonetheless, and facetiousness aside, I can’t help but think that in some cases “they” are absolutely right – and this is one of them. No matter where in the world you find yourself, no matter what you bring with you or what you leave behind, there’s always one thing that remains the same, one thing that you can’t get rid of even if you wanted to.

Now that’s not to say that I think a person can’t evolve and grow, or that a new place is little more than a change of scenery. (Certain locales are obviously more conducive to certain lifestyles or habits, for example, or they offer you opportunities – or challenges? – that other places can’t.) I also don’t mean to suggest – even implicitly – that I necessarily want to leave myself behind or get rid of my past …though I guess you could argue that any move, regardless of its stated purpose, involves some form of “escape” from your prior self, whether consciously intentional or not.

In any event, my point is, as I said, not that you can’t change yourself nor that your surroundings don’t matter. It is, rather, that just picking up and shuffling yourself away to a different spot on the globe and expecting that that will change everything all on its own… well, it is, to put it politely, nonsense. Actually, it’s utterly ridiculous. It’s completely insane! And what’s more, it’s also…

…it’s also completely understandable.

Heck, I’ve been doing this for years, moving from place to place with that exact expectation in mind, and apparently am only just now fully realizing the inescapable truth of the little aphorism that started this blog post.

Again, I don’t mean to suggest – especially not to those few of my (also very few) regular readers who know my situation – that this is entirely personal or that it’s borne out of present dissatisfaction: I am, on the whole, happy with my move and am optimistic – if sometimes a bit cautiously – about my future possibilities. It’s just that, with this move in particular, I’m finally accepting that, though location does matter, ultimately it matters far less than what you bring with you.

It’s not the material things, of course, but instead the things that only you yourself can sense: the mental lens through which you view the world, the memories that inevitably color the way you perceive (and remember) your new experiences… even the hopes and dreams that can irresistibly persist even through changing circumstances.

It’s all these things, and more, wrapped up tightly in a relatively small, fairly fragile skull that is – future bio-technological advances notwithstanding – our only truly persistent home throughout life.

And so it is like they say: wherever you go, there you are. Because wherever you are, wherever it is in the world that you choose to rest your head, the universe ultimately only makes one guarantee, only offers us that one X-mark of certainty in our otherwise uncertain journeys.

“You are here.”

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Calm as the Eye of a Storm

I know this will wind up being a very short blog post (especially for me), but then, there’s a lot going on: a move is a big thing, after all. But I’m no longer scared. I’m excited.

Sure, there are a lot of uncertainties, but I’ll try to just take them as they come.

And above all, I’ll do my best to remain – at the center of all the madness, and no matter what happens – the calm at the eye of the storm.

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Scared

I’m scared.

What I should be is asleep, but it seems my fears are getting the better of me, and perhaps what I need most right now is to express those fears, to use someone – or something – as a sounding board, to hear the echoes of my thoughts in the hopes that maybe I’ll calm down a bit and feel less anxious about… well, about everything, really.

Because I, as I said, am scared. You wouldn’t necessarily know it by looking at me; it’s a fairly quiet version of the emotion, somehow, not exactly the kind that has you visibly gripping the edges of your seat while watching a scary movie. It’s more pervasive, subtle, almost subconscious but palpable nonetheless. It’s the kind of feeling that invades the mind and makes itself at home, entwining itself with your thoughts and becoming a part of your mental process – assuming you let it stick around long enough to get a proper hold. I’d rather it didn’t, but how to make it let go? And how long has it already been there without me knowing?

That’s part of the problem: I’m not sure I recognised my fears until recently, or at the very least not enough to know them as such. But fears they are. And I’m scared.

I’m scared of not finishing the things I start, and scared of not getting ahead. I’m scared of staying always in one place, and I’m scared of not staying in one place, afraid that in thinking I’m moving forward, I’m actually just changing the scenery but not the script. I’m scared of repeating past mistakes, albeit in different surroundings and with different actors, and I’m scared of remaining stuck in old patterns, of not changing myself and my life for the better.

I’m scared too that I somehow left the better path behind me, took the wrong fork in the road – and I’m really scared, one might even say petrified, that “the better path” might be on some other road entirely. I’m scared that the best choices I could make are ones I don’t even see, either because I can’t imagine them as actual possibilities or because the circumstances of my life until this point have steadily erased any trail I might now find myself wanting to explore.

And what if it’s just my fears keeping me from exploring those trails, however faint they might be? Am I really going on my own unique journey or am I just following along where countless others have already tread out of some vague, inescapable desire to conform? For all my independence, for all my quirks and self-avowed individuality, am I still somehow afraid to step too far away from the expected, from the norm? Am I afraid to go too far afield in case what I find out there doesn’t measure up, in case I don’t measure up? If that’s true, I’m scared that I might not realise it until it’s too late, until a combination of factors – like age, prior choices, and the like – have conspired to completely eliminate any means I might have had of doing something about it, of changing direction.

Come to think of it, do I even know for certain what direction I’m going in now? Does anyone? I’ve always had many goals and many dreams, but sometimes – especially lately – that seems less like an asset and more like a liability, particularly when the pursuit of one feels like the abandonment of another. With a great big mental sigh, I suppose I have to admit that that’s likely an unavoidable part of life for everyone, that to “be something,” you have to actually make a choice and thereby give up on being something else… but what if I can’t decide? I’m scared of my uncertainty, scared that my inability to confidently pinpoint my passions, or at least a narrow range thereof, might be preventing me from focusing enough to actually accomplish something worthwhile with my life.

I guess, when it comes down to it, my biggest fear is failing to successfully shape the me of today into the me of tomorrow, all as a consequence of not fully knowing what I want tomorrow to look like – or how to get there even if I did. Should I just keep to the familiar, well-worn path, stay on the course that my life has already established? Or do I go off and cut a new track and hope to find my bearings along the way?

I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that yet, but I’ll let you know once I figure it out.

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Fire Dies

The fire dies,
The spark has gone,
The embers lose their glow;

The soul gives in,
The mind gives up,
The heart begins to slow.

But Death is not
The culprit, no,
It’s hope that’s burned away

And with its loss
The self endures
The same kind of decay.

The light will fade,
The warmth will cease;
One difference, though, it’s true,

That with the glint
Of future love
The flame might burn anew.

Perhaps the spark
Is always there,
Still ready to ignite

The soul with fire
Of hope once more,
To burn away the night.

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