Spooky & So

Days are gone Oh how grand October was, but I don't think I'd want to live all of it again. I'm grateful for the experience to make the month (& this blog) be a haven for me. I just wish I was more consistent. Perhaps another day I'll be more self-aware & emotionally intelligent. I feel that my lack of such qualities contributed to my -  for lack of a better word - self disappointment.  I've still learned A LOT from this. Best of all, I have a new direction to lead me for the month of November. I don't think I'll share my writings just yet, but it's more structured & longer than this hell hole blog. More like a novel. Eleven chapters to be exact. Planned. I won't be returning to this blog however. It'll stay up forever & I'll never delete anything, but it's a period in my life I no longer reside in.

A sole single word I read from someone somewhere that you should always have one word that motivates & defines you. For me that word is play . I think the word play  gives a sort of reminder to put curiosity before accuracy. In contrast, the word work  kind of expects precise action every time. Play  seems to rid me of all impractical expectations, & instead, emphasizes a will to explore. When I define play , I don't entirely tie it to video games & jests, but also a desire to find what I enjoy - I'm never done writing, & I do think this blog could have been utilized better, but I'll elaborate more later.

So what now? I imagined this blog to be a bit more productive on my part. This month has been too stress filled for me to fully enjoy it. Perhaps it's how every month will be. Nevertheless, I'll still try to post as often as possible. Despite being 4 days behind, I find it's easier for me to not make up for missed days. This prewritten poem is about freedom of the self, as through letting go of one's expectations. For me, self release is somewhat difficult. Still ~You can see You can see a person inside trying to be free ~It may seem It may seem Traveled a million miles, you & me ~I am lost. With a map, I have no compass but I'm trying to get back. ~It was so scary. Finding truth. But is it harder than to tell you? ~If it was yesterday. If I fell flat Would have been a guilty ride to admit that. ~It may seem It may seem the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. ~But I am still I am still I am still tryin

Triumph or trying Am I in real victory over what I feel? Or do my attempts to "feel my feelings" make more progress towards real happiness?  Distinct? One thing I can not say, can not say, I can not say One thing I can not say , I won't be this way forever A thing I can't deny, no can't deny is you Nothing I would ever try, no never deny the truth For better or for worse, I'm here as I am I'm different & strange, but I find my own plans You've got a view & that's nice / I've got new feels I'm in disguise Written October 19th

 The repair & break cycle It feels like I'm in a cycle of repairing myself, only to come back broken. I don't know how to fix it, but I suppose that's the whole point of writing.  I have to keep asking myself, what do I want?  Unfortunately, it's a lot more difficult the answer that I'd expected. Rambling 5 "I broke it again," he said "and this time not the last." Stumbled over from despair, he crawled up again. "It'll come back, but I'll break it again."It seemed like nothing was gonna change; the routine was week in - week out."If I disregard & not care; if I could manage. I need someone or something to hold me on." Written October 18th

I stress & I stress I just seems like this school year is total opposite of last. I always come back to a state of surrender, or " I give up. " I know this is contrary to my personality, but I think it's just human to feel inadequate sometimes.  This poem sort of reflects that anxiety & worry (An ode to ???) Liberosis Dunked in water, float on air Drown oneself down, into a whirlpool Take one's advice, another's Find time to be, live, love, something else Do it again, season after season Try hard, fall, do it all again Wait for it, see it through Fall out, drown again Come up for air, breathe here Fly, free oneself Written October 17th

Seasons of your day The season of autumn. Perhaps my favorite. To be clear, I love summer, but when I'm older & no longer need to attend school or college, I'll be able to bask in autumn's entire beauty. It just seems that public education - the system -  derives from total freedom. Pure autumn is liberosis. Infinite Season    "Let autumn be as it is," a pause. "Oh wicked splendor, enchant me." He said Greg finished raking the lawn, when a new but profound sound came from the shed. Greg wasn't the type to run away scared. When approached, the shed seemed to levitate an inch off the ground. Fixated on its invisible wings, Greg didn't take notice of the shed's opening mouth. The rake dropped on the soil by Greg was sucked  intro the storage unit.   Autumn seemed to lend a helpful hand in all things. The season was crucifying yet saving, & its grand aroma was of infinite compassion. Greg knew that every moment in this sh

I've been silent, I've been diving  I write & post this FIVE days after it should have been posted. If I was to same person I was a year ago, I would have despised myself. Now, I know that I can't beat myself up for letting myself down. Even with tasks I expect myself to do (but don't).  That being said, today's -prewritten- story was not prepared, so keep partially to my word & still give myself a break for the day.

A want of passage I go on & on & on about self-discovery but I never ask myself, "What do I want?" Perhaps I've just never had to time, or maybe I've been too scared to find out. I realize though, that my likes & the things I want aren't too distinct from what most other people of my generation want. Rambling 4 What do I want to do with myself? Well, what do I want now? I want peace w/o stress, & I want self-discovery I want to go back to a "ritual"", of yoga & time for myself despite homework. I want to be loved in a way that I don't have to second guess myself, as so I can be aware I want emotional intelligence so I can stop jumping to zephyrous conclusions. However, I don't know what I need. Written October 12th

What we learn This prewritten rambling was composed in May of 2016. This one is a bit more personal, having been written when I was in a depressive-mimicking state. I no longer feel these things here & realize how much I've learned since this period of my life. Rambling 3 I am not strong. I am very weak in the mind & very sensitive. I am not a fighter. My own self-worth & worth decided by others only correlates to what I can do to help others, which is not much. I spend most of my time being lazy, & I often forget that I have things I should do. I only dream about my want, not go after them as I should. I am a big baby that shouldn't ever try to go after my wants. I do not deserve or should even think about having the self-love that so few of my peers have. I don't have anything worthful to do or anything that would help others. I am weak & desperate for attention. I want things that I don't deserve. I ask for too much in a world that can o

Writing is a piece of mind I've seemed to come to the conclusion that writing is a piece of mind. Every written work - rather it be a sentence or novel, one of your own or copied down - is part of human emotion.  Not all the time am I aware of what or why my writings come out the way they do. However, I know it reflects how I felt when I was putting words on paper.  Here, in retrospect, I don't know why I wrote this, but know it stems from how I was feeling. The first 4 sentences in bold are part of a finish the story book I got, so thus, they aren't my writing. Piece of Mind Perhaps it was a dream, she thought. Perhaps if she pinched herself, she would wake up. But she didn't want to wake up. She want ed to stay in this dream world were  bliss overran ignorance, & the angels could tell the truth while lying at the same time. She loved it here. A world full of decay & growth, of symmetry & abstractness, of presence & excursion. Two wrong

Let's go, to lark on!  Ah discovery. The best of its forms has to be self-discovery (which I seem to write a lot about). But sometimes self-discovery can be as simple as going in depth as to what you want. So that's why I wrote an infatuation infused poem. Every Night Every night, I live & die I fall & cry but get get up fine I find a new one, lose the next one & I give all to dichotomous likes Each step, I float & drown I scare myself & win me over I forget my words, I follow yours Then end up lost, more so than I thought Every dream, I burn & freeze Wait for someone, go home alone I pull out rabbits, give up my seatings Find a loner, & then dream up our flight Written October 10th