Thursday, January 6, 2022

Day Six: 01/06/2012

So 2012 was an extremely rough year for me.  Apparently around this time I was reading "An Obese White Gentleman in No Apparent Distress" by Riki Moss with Terry Dobson because I started out my journal entry with a quote from the book.

"What saved me was what saves all martial men and love.  Martial men are filled with love."

I have been thinking a lot about Sabum nim tonight.  I am very afraid of him.  Walking down the street, I am afraid of running into him.  I feel him seeking me out and it terrifies me.  Where is the love I once knew?  Where is the man to whom I opened my heart and gave over my body and created this baby with?  

Where is the love?

Wednesday, January 5, 2022

Day Five: 2011 Undated Sketchbook Poem

I couldn't find an official entry for January 5th so here's an undated poem from a sketchbook from 2011.  

How can one rejoice
In times
Such as these
Everything I've found
In the depths 
Of a diseased
And corrupted world
Where no one ever thinks
Of doing anything
Which requires real courage
Because those
Who are courageous
Never think twice

Tuesday, January 4, 2022

Day Four: 01/04/2008

This is me
Opening up
I'm always
Protecting
My inner me
Except online
Where I allow
One to see
The thoughts
I feel
But lack
The strength
To say
I've no gift 
For communication
Any
Other
Way

But here
I am 
Getting
Out of my head
All
That is always
Left unsaid
Not to mention
How I bare
My broken parts
For anyone to see
But I have always
Loved
From the inside out
Yet
I fight to keep
The outside
From coming in
So if one
Were to come
To know me
From the inside out
Perhaps
I could allow myself
To let them
Come in
So
This is me
Opening up

I'm so sorry
I've been afraid
All these years
Petrified 
Really
I've been absent
Because 
By being present
I give you
The option
To reject me
And I've always
Feared rejection
Like at any moment
Even now that I'm grown
I stand to be dismissed
No longer considered
Your own
It could be the adoption
Or a deeper seated issue
But
I think
I've missed you
All these years

Monday, January 3, 2022

Day Three: 01/03/2008

Mantras
Phrases
Dead men's gazes
Insolence
Intolerance
Cornfield mazes
His majesty
Molests you know
The bird's been freed
Thoroughly uncaged
It's difficult to know
I've become enraged
Red hot anger
White hot fear
There's a room full of people
No one listening here

Sunday, January 2, 2022

Day Two: 01/02/2014

 6:22 a.m.

This morning in the shower I happened to look down and momentarily focus upon the burn scars on my forearms from the oven.  It brought my mind to the subject of inattentiveness and I thought how much pain - physical, emotional and spiritual - could have been avoided had I just been paying more careful attention - physically, emotionally and spiritually, all my life.

When one is inattentive it opens a direct pathway to pain.  Perhaps to some extent our souls seek this pain as an often express pathway to awakening.  But this carelessness does not only cause pain and hardship to our own person, but to our loved ones and really the world.

There is a reality that we live in every moment which is slightly (or grossly) different for everyone.  Each reality is valid.  By having infinite valid realities, how can we ever own anything?  We cannot, we can only experience it.  

As such, the selfish mentality is a social construct.  Evolutionarily, perhaps, and unique to humans, definitely.  One of the first concepts american babies grasp is that of "mine".  It comes even before the sense of self is fully developed.  We want to grasp and hold on to things and keep them for ourselves.  When this mentality is unchecked by nature - where gain is balanced by loss - or encouraged by nurture, we raise our children with the mistaken notion that not only is possession important but holds some permanence that is, in fact, false.

Saturday, January 1, 2022

Happy New Year! A new blog project :D

This year I want to move forward by examining the past a bit.  I want to post daily, and include a poem or journal entry from each day in years past.  After indexing 33 journals, notebooks and sketchbooks spanning the last 28 years, I found only one New Year's Day entry, which was in the journal I had written for/about Shawn in 2010.  It's really too pathetic to even post.  Instead, I am going to post a poem from a sketchbook from 2010 which is undated.

They turned their faces

from the sun

Wondering 

just how far they'd run

In their attempt

to escape that day

In their attmpt

to runaway


But some things you can't leave behind

Unless you can outrun your mind

These memories you'd gag and bind

Torture and abandon

Where no one can find

Just to have one sunny day

Where you could laugh

and run

and play

Instead of work

to keep thoughts away

Those ghosts

of an unhappy yesterday

Which stink of death

and love's decay


They turned their faces

from the sun

And wondered

how much further

they had to run


Tuesday, October 26, 2021

I'm Sleepy

I'm sleepy
But my mind
Won't rest

I look at you
And remember

I look away
And forget

Why?

Your imprint
On my heart
On my mind
On my soul

Shouldn't that
Be permanent?

I talk
In circles

Walk 
In circles

Because
I guess
I am thinking
In circles
(pretend I formatted the word "circle" into a circle.  I'm sleepy, remember?)

What if every line
Is always a circle
And the beginning
And end
Are just illusions
Delusions
Perspective
Or lack thereof

I should really 
Go
To
Sleep
N
O
W

(goodnight)