I have seen the sun come through the clouds
when the sky is otherwise rainy
and yes, I have seen light shine
where otherwise
there would be no other way
to see light or to witness the shine.
And yes, I have been to bad places
or seen darker times and even still, somehow,
I have found that there is this unstoppable thing,
or this unwavering force,
and unrelenting to,
to which this keeps me alive
and moving and hoping and thinking
that somehow,
I just have to get through today.
It is raining in NYC
But, I don’t mind.
Not at all.
I don’t mind the rain.
I think it’s a good thing.
I think it’s good that the rain comes
At least to, me.
I know that it’s easy to see . . . .
It’s easy to see all of the things that can go wrong.
It’s easier to find the problems,
and often, it’s easier to note the problems
than it is to find the solutions, and man . . .
sometimes, it’s hard to see the sun
because the clouds are in the way.
Maybe the focus shouldn’t be
on Chaos anymore.
Maybe the focus
should be on something else,
or something new
like the first light of morning,
or when the sky starts to change,
and dawn begins to break;
the birds are chirping
and the world is sleepy
and quiet.
I love these moments
because the day is still young and innocent
or, perhaps maybe less-guilty,
depending upon the thoughts we hold
from the days before.
Now, here’s the reason, or perhaps I should say
this is another motivation
behind this journal.
The mind is the real trick.
This is how we lose to the different concepts
of thought; in which case, we can literally
think ourselves out of the best scenarios,
at least
I think so.
And the emotions we have,
well?
What about them?
Nothing comes the way they used to.
And this is not to say about the way things are
or how things have almost progressed
into some mindless way,
or how people seem to overlap or intersect,
yet, no one takes the time to notice
or to look up from their cell phone
and no one takes the time to look away from their technology,
at least not long enough to notice the signs
or to see which way the wind blows,
or how the sky looks.
I have a question,
which is plain and simple, really.
It is direct as direct can be
and although the answers might not
be as obvious
or as easy,
the question is really simple.
How does this work?
I think that this is a fair question.
Don’t you?
I think this question is fair to ask
and yes, I think this is a question
that can take off in different directions.
I never had the chance to be young.
You know?
What I mean is,
I missed out on things that are important
or part of youth because somehow,
I was tricked
or robbed in a way
that I believed in the inaccuracies
and the varying concepts
of love,
or the lack thereof.
I never had a prom or the basic rites of passage,
and to some, I hear that I am making a big deal
out of nothing
but to them, this is nothing.
To me, this is something.
Ah the process of you,
Overthinking,
and the wonders you work.
I have heard it said that the mind
is a terrible thing to waste,
to which I say, yes,
I agree.
It’s true.
Ah the self-inflicted drama
or the self-induced problems,
which you’ve sworn off a hundred times, and still,
you find yourself encountering the same things
for the same reasons and, of course,
someone always comes along
to remind you about the definition
of insanity which is doing the same thing
but expecting different results.
Or something like that . . .
The Written Addiction 