Thursday 7 April 2011

Per Usual.

Per usual, I don’t know what to say.

I always write in the face of emotional turmoil, because writing is what clears my head. That being said, it’s so fucking amusing that many people seem to be amused or get inspired with my misery. And now, I’m frankly sure 2011 wants to suck my dick. I’ve broken so many bridges this year, trying to be happy, or trying to give up on people who would rather kiss my ass than suck my dick, and, BRA, you’ll never understand how hard these things can me. People could have their lips glued to the crack of your ass so much, the extra effort you need to force them off is soul wrenching.

Anyways. I've had an emotionally taxing day in which I had to explain the unexplainable and defend my spirituality (or my lack of belief in it) to a Christian. It's funny how in the face of the unknown people immediately try to convert me. Point blank, that shit immediately offends me. So, I don’t argue. But in this case, I explained, and I discovered that another simple cure for misery is talking with a like mind. As I talked with that unknown yesterday, I felt my soul pour out through her words; I had a wry smile on my face throughout. Thank you for coming through.

I broke up with HER yesterday, and relinquished control of my world to the unknown.

The same unknown that I am sure created the world. I am a child of chance, a victim of fate. I have the power to take that step forward, but not the sight to see where it might lead me in the end. No matter what impending doom is around the corner, I have to take that step forward, I can only hope to move my arm and it moves.

Hope is all I got.

What else can I do?

This world is laced with wants, with greed laced with a false sense of need, with lust for unimportant and impermanent belongings, for definition from all of these factors that would otherwise be found in ourselves. Everything about this world we have created on top of the world given to us in the end simply fills another man's pocket with ill gotten gold, the pursuit of happiness is ultimately futile.

We are the very definition of happiness, our existence, Being is happiness.

The journey is realizing that singular truth.

The false pursuit of joy, of a lie, has made us ugly, fat, unhealthy, cancerous and miserable and we will die this way without reality. Without discovery, depending on everything but yourself to provide that smile on your face? Whose muscles do you use to widen that grin? To bear your pearly whites? Whose face is it that smiles? Is it not your own? So why depend on another source when the action is born in you alone? Why depend on another source for your joy? Such that when that person decides that the source of his joy has to change, you are left hanging from a cliff from which you will only tumble into a freaking state of dejectedness.

Do good and good will happen.

Give a smile, get a smile.

My soul speaks the loudest. My aura is what they feel. No matter the wrapper. What's underneath last's longer, the taste is savored, the energy shared, the gift translated.

I'm writing to the sound of my own voice. It's a profound experience for me. I had been told that I looked like I possessed some sort of vocal skill plenty times in my life but I always met the words with an incredulous stare. I underestimated myself.

I suddenly feel so powerful.

Being able to express my emotions through the one thing I love most in this world? Talking and Writing? You mean I can be on radio speaking softly into your ears? Caressing your soul? You mean, I can be that amazing dude on stage pulling people with words? What? Soon.

And Oprah. Fuck You. And your religion.

See?

This world is empty.

Let's fill it up.

I’m just 21. Imagine me in 4 years.

May the grass be green under your feet.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home