Feel Alive!

Choose to be whomever you please; imaginary or real.

Saturday, November 30, 2013

Over and Under Worked

It is possible to be over worked and under worked. There is a happy middle one must find in order to feel healthy. I speak from personal experience when I say that people are more energetic and generally happier when they are not living to work and working to live. LIVING should be comprised of work, but they should not be dependent on one another. You can live whether you have a bunch of money or not. You can live whether you're in the worst slums or you're the richest in all of Hollywood. Living has many different qualities to it, of course, making it a positive or negative experience. Even these qualities are interpreted differently by separate parties.

In my workplace I experience people being depressed and depleted in energy. There is constant complaint, aggravation, anxiety, sadness, dis-ease. You could even go as far as to say that overworking yourself is a disease. It has permeated through our culture and has infected most of us like a virus. We think so highly of money, as if it were above us, as if it were something attainable and achievable through hours and hours of slavery with a company who is also just as blind as you are.

I've also seen people depressed and inert through laziness or boredom. The same as above is true for the opposite extreme to working too much -- working too little is just as scary. Kids and adults alike end up trying to fill a void with unnecessary activities, which could affect the mind in a very dark and shaky way. They "get up to no good", they get violent, they become complacent and sometimes could lead to suicidal tendencies. This is a large problem in kids now who don't play outdoors, who are content sitting in their bedrooms looking at a screen, who do not know how to be active and socialize.

I'm mentioning these two parallels simply because it's so common, and so easy to avoid. It makes me really sad to see beautiful, smart and funny people be angry, sad or demotivated because they're at work 40-60 hours a week, all in hopes of making more money to buy more things to make them feel better about actually being empty inside because there's no time to create and to do things they love to do (whew).

GET ACTIVE. DO STUFF. Work hard -- at something -- it's healthy, it's necessary. Men specifically need to use up some testosterone. Take a martial arts class, for God's sake. Or dance, if you're that kind of man. Women, do yoga, dance, walk a lot, get outside. Everyone GTFOutside! Stop working so much, and stop wanting to spend so much money on useless garbage. The world has enough garbage that Forever 21 or H&M doesn't have to create any more dump.

This was supposed to be a positive post ... but at least you see where some of my issues lie with the human condition. I try to integrate these beliefs into my lifestyle by purchasing mostly second hand items, shopping at local or small businesses, supporting the little guys, keeping a smaller space so my rent isn't so high meaning I don't have to work so much, and being able in turn to create more and give back to my community in a positive way -- because I have enough energy to give away without expecting in return.

Saturday, November 23, 2013

Fall Symptoms

From my freshly opened diary on October 16th

On days like this, everything feels new. FALL - the best remedy for stagnance. The floating leaves remind us of our shortcomings, of the fleeting world. We must choose every moment as if our last ... or our first. Life is completely what we make it, and of course we must work with what's handed to us. It's not a one way conversation. We're constantly giving and taking, letting go and receiving. All of life feels like an "in between" moment. Waiting, grasping. Holding on.

My life lately is so beautiful. It's breathtaking. I live in a paradise and it's impossible not to notice. The people around me are prime, tender, juicy, full of life and dreams and goals, and we all feed each other our creative energy. Everything is looking up. And if for some reason it starts to look anything but up, I know it's necessary for the next step to smile and laugh. Everything is balanced. Like rooted trees, all we can do is plant ourselves firmly in our reality and let ourselves be morphed by our surroundings. The looser we are, the more flexible our bodies, the easier going through the currents of life will be. I know this, but it's just that sometimes I wake and the world has put a big black curtain over my eyes. All I must do is lift it. But it's okay to stay in the dark for a while... It's healthy to see both sides.

I am introducting many new characters into my play, onto my stage. Yet there are still those who stand much firmer, like the foundation to my stage, the main bringers of love and happiness. There is a certain quality to those who will be in my life forever. Tranquil, peaceful, calm, but with fervor, beauty, strength, willpower, and a willingness to open up to experiences and to change. Those who become attached to a way of life will most likely remain in my past, unless they learn someday that to follow me they must morph along the way.

I currently sit on the patio of Tre Fantastico in October with the sun beaming on my face. The leaves are falling and strangers roam around, partaking in my fond appreciation of this beautiful stream of moments. I am content with the amount of work I am accomplishing lately; it makes me feel purposeful, driven, and meaningful. I want to involve as many as I can in my process. Everyone benefits from collaboration and creative company. I am starting to learn that I am the only one to blame when things don't get done (noooo way?!)! I am seeking new deadlines, new boundaries to push and to evolve through. I thought for the longest time that going to New York or leaving this place was the only way to push myself ... but this was false. It's all in front of me, if I simply reach out for it and put my back into it (aawww yeah).

The Book Thief

First, the colors.
      Then the humans.
      That's usually how I see things.
      Or at least, how I try.

-- Markus Zusak

Just started reading The Book Thief by aforementioned author. So far, brilliant. I went into Habit for my morning coffee on Wednesday and ran into my friend Alan who had recommended another book I loved (The Fault in Our Stars by John Green). This time, I'd asked for something rather strange, dark, and poetically written, in a manner that I could read a story but still feel like I'm experiencing more than just the words on the page. This book seems to be doing it. I hear it's a big deal of a book or something ... I can understand why. I shall update you later, and will most likely have many quotes to follow. Like this one:

(A Translation: Himmel = Heaven)
Whoever named Himmel Street certainly had a healthy sense of irony. Not that it was a living hell. It wasn't. But it sure as hell wasn't heaven, either.

Mmmmmm yummy words! Delectible!
You got a favorite book?

Wednesday, November 20, 2013

Diss Connection // Lagging Behind


Inner turmoil created from the silliest most ridiculous kind of loss, mourning the signals that no longer can pass through the veins of the system, created only to make us feel connected, by tones, by waves, sounds of the unknown, until familiarized through vocal chords of your bud, your friend, the one you love. Comfort zone, too easy to get into with this device, take it away and have a panic attack. Since when do we need constant stimulation -- motion, movement -- since when must we have a schedule, a ladder to go up to the next level, finding people in the middle and the outskirts and see them struggle also to do the same thing as you and you can't stop even if you see it outside of you. Pity the fools who get entangled in the web, the intricate interconnected wires which bring you and another together in the same room but only by sound, by words comforting your wholeness, your physical isness! You know you exist, finally, cause before you sure as hell didn't feel it. What a phenomenon, this crazy technological advancement, de-evolution of human transcendence, the electrical charge between two hearts, that taken away emulate the ceasing of the beating, of the living, of the pumping machine that drives us every day.

But then, I can see why we've grown so as a species, connected by strings of exasperated fuses, sparks have flown for less than a decade but look how far we've projected into a world that's united, in some odd shape but still taking form, letting us build on friendships unknown, breaking down walls without fear of rejection, of loneliness and indigestion, heart burn, uncontrollable and inconceivable heartache! Sure, we've grown, 'cause now take it away and we might be persuaded to build upon the knowledge gained from hiding behind our phones and showing our souls once the connection's been made.


Tic ... toc ... tic ... toc ...
The clock is running late for it's own meeting with fate, they're colliding suddenly and breath and life is created one instant and jaded becomes the one who mentions it. Don't be late for your very important date or the well will run dry and then what will they do? Those who depend on you and sometimes even abuse you with questions and questions and questions and KNOWLEDGE, all of a sudden knowing the question was the answer even though forbidden for a minute, eclectic it was when you told them to wait a second for the well to get filled, for the well to give back and for the well to run dry again! Fate counted the minutes and said "fuck that noise I ain't waiting around!" and left only to return when life no longer demanded that everything make sense and everything have order. Understanding gave back to the the well of fulfillment, filling no one's cup but refilling with good luck. Aren't we all just trying to make a buck, to use what the well has provided and return it at dusk? We run the risk of ... being cut off by the bus!

No really, I just got cut off by the bus and couldn't finish that sentence up.

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

Filtering the soot

Everything I talk about tends to be pretty positive. Pretty happy. I just wrote two poems in a real quick manner (see below) that took about 2 minutes to write each. Seems that things that spill out of my quill are rather dark compared to my outlook on life. It's almost the other side of me that's needing to say something, reminding me that there's two sides to one coin -- two sides to my own -- and this ain't too bad of a thing. It's almost like a filter, these letters, just so it doesn't have to seep through my language with others. I'd rather keep that shit on paper.

A Falling Out

my heart!
     it's bursting with joy,
with happiness,
with heaviness,
the right kind of heaviness,
the one that carries
carries burdens and worries
far away into the distance
so you feel em but they're
not touchable, not so
real anymore.

my heart!
     it's bursting with care,
with understanding,
even from despair, cause pairing
never seemed less fitting,
in a place where being alone
is necessary in understanding
the way of the world,
of ourselves, of each other
come together for a moment,
any longer and we could fall out,
you know,
fall out of each other...
isn't that the way we were
brought up, all we know
is the disorder created
from loving another?

Unbuckle your Seatbelt

stuff needs spewing
guts are exploding
happiness, insanity
resting still unsurely
of the volume
we speak
do we cause any
destruction leading to rebuild
the civilizations we live in
unnoticed, unworried, blissfully
that blissful ignorance
could lead to less desirable results
lest we do it anyway
keep repeating the same habits
sensations, emotions,
stuff running through the veins
just spill it, spew it already
who knows what
cleaning agents the blood can carry
rinse, lather, repeat in that order
and then you can come back
to a state of no bother.

Felt like writing a little blurb. When I write poetry I don't really think of the  words coming out, whether they make sense or not. I think this one kind of ended up making sense though! I like it.