Pain Prolongs, Perhaps?

We need not be reminded of the toe that was cuffed against the bed frame. Perhaps, the most complexing is how pain doesn’t need an invitation to the party.* Pain doesn’t need to be summoned to the dance floor.* it shows up on stage demanding that you deal with the groove. Pain doesn’t go away so easily. It makes you spin and cry but it isn’t finished with you yet. Pain pulsates and creates a space for more pain to come.

Not much you can do but find a remedy. Pain is long-suffering and teeth pain cripples the will to move on. (Sometimes It’s worth it!)

Laughing, eating, and talking is a joke when your throat and mouth are paralyzed. It doesn’t last long but the pain is manipulative.

Ice can’t always take the heat away. Nakedness can’t hide from its claws. Pain shares a resemblance with misunderstanding. Pain reacts in desperate and sometimes dramatic measures of fashion.

It may scream or mislead through a made up scenario that never ever happened. It’s a shame to see someone willingly redesign and reconfigure what is looking at them.

By suspending reality and hiring illusion you ensure that no one wins. The game is not even set by any rules that matter but when you deny what’s in front of you. Got Damn!

It’s upsetting because it makes you a delusional artist. WATCH OUT NOW: you’re adding too much paint and color to the subject and now the sun looks like a bowling ball!

Perspective matters but please talk in the same key. Most of these realizations can change but they tend to remain stagnant. Now you’re loading apples into golden storage bins! You see what I mean?

It doesn’t make sense, so slow down and bring it full circle. By all means look and deal with reality for what it presents itself as. Pain is a part of the process to get to beauty. I may be in my own world but I see what iz looks like.

Cuz, iz doesn’t mean pain will prolong.

Mediate To Levitate!

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Misery And Company At Your Buffet

I sat down right next to misery on the train towards The Highway of Empathy. Misery then told me, how much they loved my company for they had sensed my pain. Before I knew it – I began telling them what made me miserable. It’s fair to say we bonded quite quickly.

The phenomenon of trauma bonding is a bit more clever than I supposed. I left feeling as if I wasn’t the only one who had pains and bruises. I knew it was not only me who knew misery. When I finally arrived at Empathy Highway – I began to understand so many others experienced and felt similar to me. I quickly realize what we soon discover – I ain’t the only one in this bih!

“In the land of misery there lived a voice. A voice seeking to be heard by all of those whose woes were awakened by shared disgrace. Misery has a lot of company. Friends or enemies – it matters none to misery EVERYONE is invited to bond over the fire and ice. We are burned and then we are sent to Antartica.”

We are living in a time where misery is experienced at an intensified level.

With knowledge comes the awareness to put knowledge at exercise. It can’t stand to be stagnant – it must move in order for it to truly be alive. For what can be said about the familiar stroke of hardship? How are we to move on when our motivation is gone and when there’s no clear path to healing?

The conditions of life can be very hard even for the strongest of us. All we really have is each other and when your neighbor starts acting a fool, you got yourself. Even when you let yourself down, you’re still with YOU. Another chance to get it right. Remembering that even when it’s wrong you can appreciate the balance.

STILL, we can’t help but listen and share our woes. Whether with people, paper, art, or any amount of creation we can find to muster those silent woes. While we all share a relationship with life’s pain and triumphs – our pains are remembered with stronger conviction.

Misery is a friendly invitation extended to anyone who chooses to remember their miserable experiences. Somebody will find something to complain about. There’s always room for improvement and complaints remind us there are advancements that can be made. Just as long we keep it in the current motion.

Hindsight is more the 20/20 – it’s a dream we won’t remember all the details to.

We are like questions being drawn at the expense of searching for answers.

Sometimes all it takes is the right question to be found at the right time in your sorrow. I have learned to not be afraid of sorrows pull – for there’s a lot I have yet to process in my tears.

When the aches of life return and wish to retreat at a buffet with all sorts of past and present existential reminders – I’m gonna eat it one tribulation at a time. ( I may very well leave some entree’s because some things are too high in sugar and fat).

We don’t have to deal with all of the sorrows of the world at once. There’s a lot to eat and if you’re aren’t careful you can put way too much on your plate because you spend too much company with misery. Social Justice is important but if you’re gonna be a warrior – you have to always be prepared to fight.

That’s part of the problem, carrying swords, arrows, and armor. You won’t always be able to dodge those bullets and avoid the inevitable. The inevitable happens. Response or reaction? It’s all about your determination to resolve. If it’s all meant to be here or there.

Don’t let life hassle you into a thousand schemes of awakening. *Sleeping is sometimes some of the best natural medicine life can give you*. I’d encourage you to be aware of the many courses made available to you. Blow off your back the familiar retrograde set to keep you in flames. Every experience isn’t dealt with the same way – best if we stop pretending they are. Leave yourself to your own space where you can eat your grace at your pace.

Remember: You’re the one eating at the buffet. *Hopefully you’re eating more than the sweets!!!* You get to choose what you want and what’s yours. No matter who’s around you encouraging you to “EAT! EAT! IT’S GOOD!” It may not be good and to the company that suggests otherwise – remember it’s your buffet! You get to eat whatever you want. Your mouth, Your choice!

THE TRIGGERED GENERATION

Hell Yeah, we’re Triggered.

It’s 2017 and everybody I know gets Triggered. It’s on some ASMR type of flow. Are you seeing the same shit I’m seeing?

Maybe you haven’t been aware of the plethora of ways in which trauma can be unlocked – but let me tell you: The box and key are always engaged in some kind of slippery slope of twists and turns.

Have you been living underneath a rock or something?

Every and anything can be triggering!

What’s funny about it – is that it doesn’t take much really. We’re constantly forced to deal with things and a lot of those things have childhood triggers we don’t understand yet.

Upon sudden contact – Bing!

We’re then pushed in the wrestling ring by the beast we haven’t fully seen.

Anytime I smell its fragrance – It gets a little bit closer to defeating me. I’m PRESSED because I can’t predict when my next collapse will take place?

It’s on the television. It’s on my phone. In the classroom. At work. With my family. With friends that I hang out with. I have no idea what I’m gonna see or what I hear and how this may trigger me wherever I happen to be.

Triggers are invisible forces that I can’t seem to protect myself from.

No warning. No map for closure. My anxiety is constantly multiplying because of various triggers.

These are close to home reminders that are not so easy to run away from.

I heard somebody say “Our generation should just get a grip and not be so loose on our emotions when they run through us like a flame.” I’m just laughing at that cuz IF we could pick and choose what triggered us, we wouldn’t be so damn triggered.

While we can’t control how they come, I suppose we understand those triggers. We can begin to learn how to unpack some of those various traumas.

Identifying them can be hard work tho – but it’s our responsibility.

Are we the Triggered Generation? I’d say Hell Yeah! But people long before us have had these triggers.

We’re just a bit more aware of the impact they have and there’s comfort in knowing – we ain’t all alone in this.

This piece is for my friend Loxten, which will be used for his future project.

Nightmares In Jeopardy

A nightmare came to me like a morning dream. I was fooled by the bright lights from the sun and a soft voice in my ear. Yet, there I was – stuck in a thick sweat – drowning and crying out for help. Reflections of my childhood came as a series of bright flashcards. My old church // Childhood Trauma // My dog Rocky I had when I was 12 // Making food with my grandmother in the kitchen // Marbles dropping on the newly laid tile floor // When I realized I could talk in my head // The Time I tasted a rainbow on the ground for the first time.

These all came to me like bright visions all entwined in a early cold sweat.

I screamed in terror because I couldn’t understand what was happening to me. In my waking life, I’m reminded of the words and stories that have been hidden in various pockets of my mind’s eye. Stories I neglected to share because I didn’t know what they could mean or reveal for the future.

Maya Angelou said it wonderfully:

“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.”

Inside of us are stories that are untold. Some terrifying while others are delightful. Stories that must be told, otherwise they reveal themselves through my dreams and our subconsciousness. The freedom and dare I say – vulnerability in speaking those hidden stories can mean several things for different reasons. Scars remind us of the pain that came before. The evidence of such experiences isn’t always what the mirror wants to face. These scars are a record of the numbers that have been calculated and those calculations are the visible framework of those experiences that are added and subtracted.

Upon the math of these scars which visits my dreams, I have more questions to ask. These questions narrate which direction I’m headed. The very act of writing is liberating. It entices thoughts unvisited in speaking range. It’s such a divine feeling to write. To get it right with what’s written. Feels so casual and simply conversational. Writing makes room for where there isn’t any. It just gets in the way and then before you know it – you start asking the hard questions that visit you in your nightmares. Jeopardy finds a new home in my nightmares, but it’s cool because those questions build the story inside.

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What makes our experiences true is what gives us clarity to the lie in why we beLIEve.

 

Pain Heartbreak Then You Read

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I have read many books and have looked at too much recent history, to think this country was ever really great. // The origin of this country is really nationalistic for barbaric reasons. Slavery, Genocide, and capitalism. These things have been so normal to me – sometimes I have to remind myself I am actually living in a place TAKEN from Native Americans. Slaves (some are actually in my bloodlines) worked day in and day out and DID not get paid for their labor. We were instead raped, isolated, cut off from our families, and indoctrinated to believe “slaves were to obey their masters”. We were not actually considered human beings under law. While these things seem so long ago they aren’t and we are still living through the trauma of these atrocities. So no. I can’t think this country is great when the numbers speak for themselves. Reading the story connects the reality why my face curves when people talk about THIS GREAT COUNTRY. 😀

Death Within A Mad Program

 

Image Salvador Dali

 

 

I Wish I was able to attend my FAVORITE Aunt in the world, Aunt Linda`s funeral today in Mississippi, but could not leave work. She not only taught me about the miracles in the universe. But how we are all equal! Whether you are a woman or man // You are capable of the same things! She was one of the first people to go against tradition. To bend the rules and enjoy life. To not be so focused on pleasing people but serving people!

She is one of the greatest inspirations in my life. Knowing I can`t talk to her for hours at a time really hurts me. I know God arranged her in my life for a purpose and that will be fulfilled day by day. She will continue to encourage me, cause as she always said and I never quite understood it until now. “All is well, even when you are not feeling good things are well”. It`s going to be hard not hearing her laugh and crack jokes about any and everything.

But her voice and her spirit are well with me!

I have been delayed in writing, but I am learning to allow my fingers to walk on the blank sheets of space. I have experienced betrayal, greed, selfishness, and disrespect on many levels of existence. I really am given the expense of surprise as I ponder the reasoning behind the heart of the peculiar minds. I really don’t know where I would be if it was not for the hand and heart from Miss X. She really has been there to listen and remind me that love yields understanding. I just want to be there with her, away from the madness I am within.

It’s amazing to hold on to the one that loves you and wants you to be saved from those against you. This is a hard time for me. So much madness, and delay all for the sake of MONEY.

Michael said it best:
“So you call it trust
But I say it’s just
In the devil’s game

Of greed and lust
They don’t care
They’d do me for the money
They don’t care
They use me for the money
So you go to church
Read the Holy word
In the scheme of life
It’s all absurd
They don’t care
They’d kill for the money
Do or dare
The thrill for the money”

The thrill of getting what is not rightfully owed to you NOW or even later, will not repair a broken relationship. The core of everything and anything is ‘Relationship’! How can anything function if the variables are not allowed the program of authenticity? Being loaned the hands of a quick fix can not puncture a digit that will respond to pressure. The height of invaluable measures is being dawned in a time of deception and selfish motive. When one cancels the logic that nature is derived from, the mono cause of its life becomes drowned in poisoned fluids. If not for the alive veins of study and codes, we are given the software bypassed by endless paradigms. The absurdity of blood thickens as the result is caused by the cut of a familiar knife.

I am held by the given love of Miss X; she is not a variable, but my tower and love. I really have to shout out my love for her, and the inspiration to keep on writing as that will develop an attitude and wonder to this madness…I love You!

Summarized Notion For Thought: I’ve used madness to conjure inspiration. The wonder of polluted intentions is understood when the visual for clarity is sound.