They never tell you that you fall in love with yourself. Now, let me explain before I’m told my narcissism is back in affect. My gaze was met by another and like precious gems, sparkling by a radiance of the light behind them, I could see my reflection. Oceans of emotions waving by as I stood naked, unafraid of who I saw in these deep eyes. Whispering words and as if asking, who’s the fairest of them all? Or why see me in such a way? Darkness seen upon such flat surfaces upon my own cast yet in her eyes I saw a version not defined by my present notion. What is such gaze followed by own? Details long forgotten and shaped into someone I no longer recognize. Interwoven and shaped as she was more than touching upon empty surfaces with textures of no soulful connections. Yet, she holds me in awe as I evolve and am held but that can only be spoken in understanding that I’m changed and seen as beautiful, an image I held but was forgotten and so I fell in love with myself, but it was the reflection of who I was reflecting.
It’s actually quite revealing to me what someone told me in the chat room for school. They stated that I appear more and more like C.S. Lewis. I was an atheist who began to research and turned theist. I researched countless practices and entered the occult/magick and was an initiate in the craft. From there, I tested the boundaries of true Christianity, from the historicity, prophecy and validity of not only scripture but secular accounts outside the bible.
I became fascinated with getting to the bottom of this “God” character. Even amidst my trials and situations, I became closer to God and was revealed the truth. No matter what judgment was cast upon me by people.
Now as the years progressed, as a writer, and biblical studies student, I can see the similarities between us. In his work, Mere Christianity, Lewis reveals his testimony and I can relate to his relationship with God and challenges of himself. It is truly remarkable how believers experience the Father, how the spirit manifests himself and how we come with humbled knees to our Lord and Savior.
Served up 25 to life. Broken plates dished over time. Prison of my mind. Felon guilty of his crimes. Signs to note pieces of the present 26 lines. Sentences compiled with letters under lights. Rights unfollowed in misdirection looking for what’s left. Pressed against bars sitting along the bench. Working out frustrations, pulling up sections. Lessons learned when the shadow was present. I can’t keep doing this on my own. Bring it to a close, showing me the end of the rope. But not hanging by, just play the chords. Heavenly melodies presented graciously. Pleasantly releasing me from depressive tendencies. Anxieties unchained by righteous sacrifice. Eyes no longer looking down raw at night.
Hmm…should I use this word here or that word there? Decisions, decisions, decisions.
It’s funny really, how we look at the words we write and decide what word “works” best. We spend our time trying to get our points across as writers, bloggers, poets, and etc. Defined by our words it becomes more than descriptions of what we de but reveals an action and who we are.
I’m not the best, nor do I want to be considered the best writer, I just write. I’ve learned from my experiences and as I continue on in life how, not only in writing but in life, we over analyze things. We spend our time debating with ourselves about what we are going to do, say, eat and etc. Contrary to belief, it doesn’t matter what someone says, we care about what others say about us. The thing that sets us apart from others is our individuality, which in turn can help determine if we accept others opinions of us or we acknowledge it; know ourselves well enough that we ignore it and learn from it.
I’m not a motivational speaker, my blog is not ranging in the 1000s of subscribers and I’m not pushing anyone to read my words by asking for emails. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying those that do have that are something or that it wouldn’t be nice to have people reading your work and waiting for your next post. What I’m trying to write is this, I know where I stand as a writer, where I am in life, now. I am not going to pretend to be someone I am not.
I love to write, though my post count is nothing compared to the daily posts others push. I still manage to let myself bleed and find an escape, which is writing. I remember how a customer came into the store and asked me, since he learned I’m a writer, what it “takes”. I chuckled. I don’t have a fully published book under my name yet, though I’ve written one and compiled my ebook series awaiting thorough editing, even my collection of poems within a book. Yet I looked at him and told him, just write. Sounds weird doesn’t it, sounds like it is easy, but it isn’t. I told him you’re not an aspiring writer, you are a writer, you just need to break free from defeating yourself.
There is a kicker in what I’m writing. We over think things and in the end defeat ourselves. We become lost in trends or distractions, we see others doing something and because it works for them, we think it will work for us. I’ve found that I am still creating my “voice” or style. I don’t have years of writing under my belt, just a year. Yet I will rather write and be criticized so I could properly learn to improve. I can debate with myself about life but only when I decide to take the risk and do it will I see action and learn from the experience.
As of late, I’ve retreated again from social media as those who do read my posts can attest. It has really been an eye opener. After all the senseless posts I see or meaningless drevels, I find I am more myself away from that sort of environment. I’m clear headed. It can work for others but not for me so I purge it out od my life.
People think my choices at times are extreme but it is because of what I’m saying now, we are our worst enemies. There may or may not be something better but don’t spend hours contemplating the “what ifs”, life is too short. Take the risk. But also understand, there is a difference with being rash and actually discerning, in a logical manner, and doing something. Learn who you are, become content with yourself, change what you feel needs to change, and then learn to move forward.
Seeking the assistance from these systems.
Deliverance from my bleeding feelings.
Vengeance beating my chest, hearing drums.
Songs sung by passion shooting up guns.
Triggered by thoughts passing me by in dissaray.
Breaking waves as they sway through days, skies turning grey.
Never closing my eyes to whispering darkness.
Silent light made aware past senses.
Find me here before wicked intentions take over.
Fighting my reflection while remaining sober.
The war in me.
It seems I have to remind myself to breathe as of late. I’ve learned how easily it is to blame life. We spend our lives saying that “life” is hard. The reality is life is life, it flows and depending in what we experiencd within it, determines our view of it or perception.
I used to say that my life was always a struggle. I experienced many things that one’s head would turn or even walk the other way if they knew what I did. Yet I’ve learned that no matter what I do or have done, life goes on. Life goes on. Just saying that brings the reality of the world around you. How we follow vain pursuits and spend our lives.
This isnt to give hope or to teach something but to help people understand something, our life is short. Take time to see what you are truly living for. If it will all sink you to the bottom of the river of life or help you keep with the current. If you are just existing and not living.
There is beauty in just being. We often forget this statement. We spend our waking lives trying to be someone or reach something. Since birth we are told we must grow to become someone. Yet we don’t all quite know who that someone is, do we?
When was the last time you looked at yourself and thought about hos unique you are? Maybe you are past your teenage years and just are quick to point put a “flaw”. We can be asked, “What do you love about yourself?”, but will our answers be as much if the question was turned to, “what don’t you like about yourself?”.
I remember reading some where, in an article I believe, where someone was asked what they love about life. This person stated her family, friends, pets, jobs, school, even memories and when asked if she loved herself, she then realized she forgot on of the most important people, her.
Now, I’m usually that guy that discusses how being egocentric caused more harm than good, which is try, but to truly love yourself, without allowing pride to be the root of this love, it is beneficial. When you learn to love others as you love yourself, treat them as you would like to be treated, you begin to experience a whole new world.
So I suggest this, as one who had to learn from being completely broken and finding a healthy way to love who I was, take some time for you. People may find it weird but I truly suggest going on a date with yourself, finding what you like and also enjoying being by yourself. The more you know who you are, the better you can interact with others as well as love, because you know your value as well.
It is no lie in stating that you are beautiful, each person is unique. Learn to become comfortable with who you are. It is easy to follow a standard the world states and lose yourself, but don’t let it define you. Each person is set apart to complete his own path towards the same destination in life. So learn to just be, be you.
Hmm…it would seem as of late I have had a couple of problems that vex me. You could say it is a collection of the trivial ordeals I have swept away before. I’ve tried to “keep up” with the times, yet it is always a puzzle to me why I can’t really stay focused. I’ve undergone my own versions of a digital purge, erasing any ounce of existence to the very pixels on a screen, in the “web”. I would like to think that once one is snared or caught, there really is no escaping.
Now, I’m not one to simply give up or become stuck when an issue presents itself. I’ve had to learn and grow as I continue on in life. Every step I take leads me to a better understanding of what I must do. Such was the case when I decided to hop back on social media, to help me network and promote my blog or my work. Yet again the attacks are made on my conscious and I’m plagued with a feeling of losing myself.
As of late I have also not been in my best shape. It seems that I seem a bit “off”. Only my best friends seem to notice that I have detoured. It could all come down to what is really going on in my heart. A major shifting of times with my thoughts being the vehicle, riding the oceans of emotions. I seem a bit, confused. I can’t really make it all come together with words yet I write about it so it doesn’t crowd my mind and cause me constant unrest.
I know a lot of us feel it from time to time but just because we do doesn’t mean we can let it win. I got one will do what is necessary and push on. For the moment I have stepped away from the digital world in regards to social media to breathe, gain my focus. It is easy to be caught up in drama, pointless posts, funny memes, memories, pictures, and promotions/marketing. Granted it is needed at times to just let yourself be known and seen, but as well, I need to know or find a balance and not become lost in such vain pursuits and allow my stories to truly be shared. These are my opinions. As Well, to properly write I need to allow myself to bleed more and not become hindered by affairs of the world that will lead me astray. The choices I make now or am making, affect who I will become but let tomorrow come on its own as I work for today.
After discussing matters in my life with my dear friend, I know I must allow myself to keep moving forward, to let God take control. It is easy to say certain things but I also want my actions to speak for themselves. I don’t want to find myself thinking about my ex ever since I saw her on Facebook or even the fact of spending hours distracted looking through an Instagram feed. I want to be focused, just as I write on here, producing continuous sets of wordings that touch others, revealing who I am, the worlds ready to be revealed and the poetry that sings to the hearts of men.
Hanging by chords struck by heaven’s roars.
Down pour of a soul amidst the storm.
Surrounded by splendor yet orbiting a world not his own.
Controlling waves and shifting of tides.
Clouded memories strolling in time.
Waiting beside the gravity in darkness for a simple hello.
Losing himself as he holds his phone awaiting the call.
Just another night, a phase of the moon.
“Again?” The old man chuckled as he lifted the blanket over the boy. Stopping before the boy’s head was underneath, he sat beside him. The old man looked into the fire and back at the boy. The fire lit in the small chimney just across from them, just a few feet away. The cabin barely 10 to 12 feet wide in a perfect square. A leather couch in the center, turned, facing the chimney and the small kitchen beside the chimney to the right. The bed just against the wall beside a window and the wooden door that led to the outside, at the edge of the bed frame. “After this you have to promise me you will go to sleep, ok?
“Yes, I promise!” the young boy’s eyes twinkled from the crackling fires light in the cabin. The small setting was warm, filled with memories hung on walls and resting upon various places. The fire creating an orange tone that basked the cabin. Shadows fluttering with the swaying flames creating a dance that was mesmerizing.
“Now listen carefully as this story is told, for many say it is a parable of one who wandered but was not lost.” the old man leaned a bit closer to the boy, making sure he was fully covered.
After hugging his own body he continued, “there once was a man who knew not the way he would go. Though he knew of a home before, he needed directions to reach the place of the unknown. Leaving his village in search. No one knew how to get there but many he passed were from there. The man would contemplate, ‘How can this be?, he would tell himself, yet he would continue in this voyage. The man encountered a wolf one day, before reaching for his knife, the wolf bowed politely. The wolf led him to a stream where he gathered fresh water and something to eat. As he finished eating, he asked the wolf if he could lead him out of the forest he was in. The wolf just asked for one thing in return, to love. After the wolf led him a great distance, they parted. The man was then exhausted one day and met a bird. The bird boasted about seeing the heaven’s and the place she had seen. The man was envious of the bird’s wings and eyes. The bird told him she would let him see what she saw but only if he gave her his eyes. He didn’t understand of course but complied. Awakening the next day blind and cursing the bird. The man continued on for many days and nights, stumbling along the way, though he had a walking stick to help him along his path. Without his knowing, he had entered a cave along his way. The cave was home to a dragon. The dragon asked the man where he was going. The man replied that he was in search of the unknown where home was more than a word. The dragon scratched his chin, though the man couldnt see the Dragon. The dragon looked at the man’s walking stick and bag, saying, ‘I will take you to this place, in return, give me all your riches and what you have.’. The man was starting to have hope, after all this time, he thought. He said of course and reached out, holding his bag. The dragon huffed and puffed, filling the cave with smoke, ‘I do not want your mere items, for haven’t you heard, dragon’s only desire true treasure’ tapping the man’s chest. The man felt his beating chest, grabbed his shirt and shouted, ‘I cannot and will never ‘. The dragon was shocked at first, ‘My what a golden heart you have indeed.’. The dragon laughed and started to rise in the cave. The man felt the trembling ground beneath him. The dragon launched himself out the cave with the man and they soared through the sky. In what appeared to be a few hours the man began to see before him. His eyes adjusted to his surroundings once more, to his surprise, he was at the village. He was on the ground, beside the dragon. He had forgotten to hold tightly to his bag and stick. The dragon looked down at him. The man felt his heart in his chest, relieved. He waved as the dragon flew away moments later. He looked around the village, the children running and playing, his neighbors smiling and talking to one another, the air filled with scents of flour. He felt the wind brush against his skin, turning to face the sun basking his skin he smiled, saying ‘I’ve made it’.”
The old man looked at the boy who was now asleep. He slowly got up and moved to the couch. Sitting beside the fire he yawned and closed his eyes, whispering, “Such was his tale, he who followed his heart…” and fell to sleep.