Some Thoughts Before Sleep

I've been thinking a lot lately about the world outside of the scope of my conscious being. There are so many brains around me, and, at any given point they're contemplating and processing their own unique set of thoughts, ideas, memories. I often find my mind in wonderment to how all these other brains around me come to think in the patterns they do. I understand the conditioning and external stimuli in the environment of their upbringing can greatly shape this, but how is it that they can overcome this and exercise free will over their life, break the proverbial cycle and think independently of their shaping? In essence, I am curious what it takes to get outside the box to think out there and look in to better understand not only oneself, but the environment in which they were a byproduct.

For me, it was a lengthy process. I had to learn to absolve my Ego, to let it first shape itself and grow to a degree, to rely on it as a safety net of my youth, then all at once, forget it. Letting go of it and understanding my place in a much grander, universal schema. Once gone, I came to know the well-crafted illusion or veil upon which my life had been based. It was a lot to swallow, a lot to come to terms with. Most that I'd known and come to depend on was simply wrong. Conversely, I felt the shackles come off, and with it, a new sense of purpose and lightness of being. I understood the point of living, of observing the growth of the universe, of existing in the present moment, and letting go of the anxiety-ridden future that had for so long plagued me.

It has been simultaneously rewarding and immensely frustrating to be where I have been of recent. The former in regards to having a better grasp on wholeness and purpose, and the latter in response to the concept that many still could get to this point. In due time, I believe that many will. I am fortunate enough to have come to these realizations with much potential life left to live. Some will realize when it is too late to reap the rewards of this gained insight, when their bodies are frail or cynicism has infected the depths of their soul. Time is important, but not all-important. To make much of the NOW as possible tends to yield the greatest quality of life.

I continue on, tormented by the words which may only reach a handful of ears with the hopes that my experiences and conclusions drawn may impact another, but hold no expectations that this may realistically be the case, for having such regard for my words and thoughts to directly shape the entirety of another mind is soberingly naive. Rather, I would like to think that I can trigger others to question their motives and beliefs, to hold a critical eye to that which has otherwise been foundational cornerstones to their life, so that curiosity drives some forward to further depths of their own selves, and eventually to the realm of the unknown. The only thing I can know for sure is that I can control and improve my own small corner of this universe, and through that, impart tidbits of my experience into the intricate memory webs of others in their own respective journeys.

Prima Materia

The chaos, the alchemy, that yielded you and me
The Golden Age of beholden days follow us around
Our ever-changing selves, nano-second blood-brethren
particles, partial prints and imprints in memoriam of time,
non-linear–what was before and what is yet to come,
the anxiety asymptote of setting it aside in lieu of NOW,
Forging every precarious moment and setting forth
upon the infinitely delimited present in our presence
and unfortunately to so many, the lack thereof; as minds
seek out saturation of TV dinners and the faint blue glow,
the shade of which so aptly painted the portrait of their prisons,
their minds locked on and in doing so, locked in, to Progress,
"Success" and the expectations set not in stone, but rather
through the airwaves, developing a sixth sense of sorts:
Tuned in, turned on, but most certainly not dropped out,
That's not the way, that's not the way, that's not the way.

Understanding Power

The infinite possibility of distraction,
forcing us to look anywhere but within,
and present us not with questions to ask,
but with anything that holds our attention
for seconds shorter and shorter, frantic buildup
to the very brink of subliminal torture.
As the puppet-masters cling to control
guiding the thoughts of the hive mind,
leading lemmings to leap, "yes sir, how high?"
And so those are the questions posed
to those most accountable, most liable
with the most to lose–power.
Ventriloquist anchormen stabilizing Noah's Ark,
From the seas of change, the dark unknown abysmal
future of man, a planetary society, a planetary conscious.

3-Minute Love Poem

It can't be done, she said.
But I knew, oh, how I knew
The me that she'd come to see
Pieces of the puzzle
fitting so very perfectly.
12:00 o' clock, middle of the night
Hands touching for fleeting moments
Bound by time, we're only human
I want it spent with her.

Idea

And so there is, no greater cause, than that of sharing ideas with one another. Ideas are, at the very core of things, the quintessential purpose of existence. Our very being, as products of evolution approximately 14 billion years in the making, are unique in our ability to observe, to decipher, record and be. With the discovery of each new idea, we are furthering the Collective Knowledge. This database will be passed on down the generations, and inevitably some will permeate more than others. Nothing lasts...but nothing is lost. Each experience gained, each memory formed, adds a new layer of complexity to the intricate web of the cosmos. As big or as little as you could ever think, the intricacy makes itself ever more apparent. There is no greater gift one can give than that of an idea. Something so seemingly simple, yet with power causally linked to paradigm shifts. The true ability to enable change. Each experience gained, each memory affected, leads to the greater understanding, the ability to live in the now, to live with prowess and fully. There is not a greater achievement than that of committing to the current and sharing with any willing ears the ideas which you've gathered over your existence.

Moustache Madness

I am the mofo'in moustache!
My goal in life: to 'stache out the sun.
If only I could get off his stupid face
then the world would see, they'd see the real me.
I'd dance and frolic through fields of sunflowers,
and allergies wouldn't mean me covered in boogers!
Blerghh, I hate allergies. Almost as much as I hate boogers.
I remember his younger days, 'stacheless in Ann Arbor,
what a naive fool. Then she came along, begging for me
I could hear my name beckoned and so I came forth
with the might of a thousand facial hairs.
He's since been called a pornstar, a pedophile, a philosopher.
And so on his face, I'll continue to thrive.
And just before he goes all Clooney on me,
and the moment is ever just right,
POOF, I'll prove my sentience, and sucede from his face,
and in one fellow sayonara, I'll outdo Dali, Yosemite Sam,
Hitler, Groucho and Goulet. Even the supernova of the sun
won't stop me. Fwoop. Darkness.

Depth Hub

The harsh reality of the realizations, the harbinger of of being in the know,
At what cost do we trade it all in for a scary sliver of understanding?
Innocence, ignorance, naivety, "knowledge," the cutting edge
Walking along it, seeking balance, or else fail, or else fall
Either back into normalcy, or down, down down,
into the depth hub, the abysmal darkness
Where curiosity draws upon itself,
and oneself becomes the allself, the only way out.
Escape velocity back up the neverending well.
With fondness, memories of my youth remain,
With fondness, the ethereal beauty that surrounds me.

Preaching

The Universe has allotted us this short gift of time to exist, to observe, to be. Do not waste it being negative. Find what you may never again. Look ahead and into the unknown, do not dwell on what is done. Find the value in the difficult times and then let them fade away into the ether of time and memory. Know that when you speak ill words to another, you are speaking to another sentient piece of universe. Many forget, but all are here to watch and learn. Some burn bright and fast, some slow and strong. Negativity is the laziness to address problems. To take out your individual frustrations on another human being is to display weakness of soul, a disability to understand that which makes us human. Do not burn down bridges, but fortify bonds. Own up to the mistakes you make, mostly to yourself, learn from them and do not sulk. Work the hardest smartest and success will purr in your lap. Do not forget that we are surrounded by our brothers and sisters, we are all unknowingly traversing massive amounts of space and time. Understand all by forgiving all. The power rests in the hands of each of us, in the actions we live, in our ability to love, learn, and be. Take not these things for granted, as this gift can easily be rescinded--the universe reclaiming her matter and the experiences that we have had--even prematurely. Waste not a moment. Live, breathe, exist.

Impeccable Timing

Tick tock, another minute,
ours to be spent.
Another Friday, another weak
showing for progress.
Facts are cold, encased
in a hardness, difficult
to (s)wallow.
Time supersedes all,
the worst of man's inventions,
An implementation of order,
caging the Chaotic beast.
Time to let go.

Swim

“Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming.” - Dory

I feel myself travelling deeper and deeper, but to what end? Just how far can one go before adjusting the course in order to come full-circle? I often explain this complex notion to others by means of swimming in a large body of water. There is something particularly intriguing about swimming away from shore–the floating, weightless body, the depths of the unknown, the primitive stirrings of solitude and simultaneous acceptance of the surrounding universe. There is the melting of one’s body into the larger body, the emulsion between the human condition and the terrifying pressure on oneself to perform within the scope of their truest capabilities, or otherwise perish.

The currentless pull on the curiosity of the mind drives me further and further into the expansive container of water. All in the name of understanding what exactly it is that I am comprised of mentally. From early on, we learn the limitations of our body, but what of our limitless potential? Gods of our own minds, we create and destroy worlds, seeking out a counterpart consciousness to share in misery the bodily limitations and dream together of ways in which we can use our blip of cosmic time to better the universe, or at the very least contribute to the collective experience and memories that define the era of mankind.

It is important to stray away from the safety of the shoreline, for a life without personal challenge or intrigue of the unknown, stagnancy ensues. Our very presence in the water creates ripples, literally and within the Earthly mindscape. I say Earthly in regards to the mind in the notion that our minds are not uniquely terrestrial, but also aquatic, dynamic. Ever morphing from the ripples of the curious traveller, limited only to the physical container of the skull. Yet, our minds provide us a loophole from these confines, as we escape to fantastical and incredible dreamscapes. This dreamstate provides the opportunity for the mind to calibrate and function at a reasonable input level, to tread the proverbial aquatic portions of our mind in anticipation of the coming day’s travels.

But how far out is too far? Many so-called geniuses walk the fine, taught, and very much so blurred line between genius and insanity. Swim too far out and how does one return to the shore. The return is the take away, the post-processing, the sharing of experiences with those otherwise too uncertain or commitment-phobic towards the idea of promoting the human experience.

We push onwards and forwards, sometimes forgetting the lessons of those who have passed previous us, those who did not return to the shore and fell victim to the stormy seas of change. In this regard, it would be advantageous to walk backwards, or in continuation with this elongated metaphor–backstroke. Keep swimming forward, but keep your eyes out for what has already transpired. Learn from the mistakes of our fallen comrades, respecting their commitment to the cause, their martyrdom so that future seafarers could make for themselves a return journey to the architected shoreline.

The strength of humans bolster with each passing day, and while small battles will be lost and much energy expended in the process, each consecutive journey to the depths will yield slightly more results so long as there is a yearning for knowledge and a desire to know the unknown. Many fear the unknown. For that reason, it is of paramount importance that those who dare journey out make their way back to shed light and encourage the fearful to open their minds to what they already possess. Fear and anxiety, excitement and anticipation, they are all estuaries leading into the same body. It is just a matter of perspective–applying a negative or positive approach to it, respectively.

To conclude, we are not born with the knowledge to traverse these waters. They are a learned skill of our species. Some will excel, and others will find themselves highly hydrophobic, for reasons theirs and theirs alone. For those who want to submerge themselves in the former, it is, like so many experiences, a process. Learn from each journey, allow yourself time to process, to grow and recover, then head back out and do it again, only a little bit more. For those who care only to dabble and get their feet wet, all the same, just know that it may take a bit longer, but with just as potential an outcome as your sea-legged brethren. To those who dare not venture out into the waters, go and refine the land, preserve the history that is already there, so that the ambitious may understand it. Everybody has a role, do not look down upon yours if you are doing it with candor and passion.