There was this thing we used to call outdoors. Remember it? There were places too, like playgrounds for example. We used to go there when we were kids. Or an open field was a good place too. We used to fly kites. We used to talk. We used to play. And as I say this, I tell this to a white computer screen in an otherwise dark loft. As I say this to myself, my fingers push keys to formulate the words on a person-made creation, which we call technology. I say these words in my head that appear on a screen to formulate my sentences. Yet, nobody reads anymore. Books and the traditional publishing business is and has been forever altered with systems that read to us for us.
Continue readingTo be Good at Heart
I want to go back to something a young diarist said. She was only a kid at the time. I think she was about 13 when she started her diary. While I’ve heard about the controversy that suggests the diary was not written by a young girl at all; still, I want to go back to the Diary of Anne Frank where she said, “In spite of everything, I still believe people are good at heart.”
Continue readingWhen the Right Words do the Wrong Things
Are you ready for a little bit of honesty?
Here’s what people will tell you not to say. Here are the things people will tell you not to think, yet we think them. We feel them. We hear our thoughts as an internal voice and our thoughts are real.
Our thoughts may not be accurate but in the moment, our thoughts are as real as you or me.
Perhaps, this is why they say perception is not true. But instead, our perception is only true to us.
Correction Over Criticism
The idea that comes to mind is more of a question really. And the question is simple. The question is how do we keep on moving? How do we start all over? Or wait, how do we go back to the old drawing board? Or, how do we grow stronger or stand taller after we’ve fallen down. I mean, let’s face it; it’s tough to get back up sometimes. It’s tough, especially when you’ve been hurt so badly that you’re not sure if you can stand back up again? But you have to get back up. Right?
Like it or not, no one can lay down forever. You have to keep going. Isn’t that what people say?
Changing the Inner View
I wonder . . .
When can we throw it all away, as if yesterday never mattered and now, here we are. Nothing else could be more important than this moment. Right here. Right now. And without judgment.
Just to be present.
I find myself in various stages of inspection. Some would say that hey, this is just me. I think too much or too often but then again, we all do.
We think too much and we pause too often. We miss the boat sometimes and then it hits. us. There we are thinking about a sunset that we will never see again. Or wondering what the temperature is like in places we’ve never seen but only dreamed about.
My Love is All
Then there’s love. Then there’s the next level of love which has nothing to do with lust or touch or the magical draw of energy from someone else. Instead, next there’s this level of connection in which you know someone and in your mind, you cannot remember a time when you didn’t know them. Or care. Or want them, need them or regard them.
But still, there is more to this because this cannot be achieved without love, or more accurately, a certain love that comes from within.
There is this undefinable thing; this indescribable feature that people share. There is this position we share, here, under the sun. There are times when the world is nearly empty, as is our heart. And there are times when we consider the word “love” and wonder if this is real – or at least if true love is real.
A Taste of Nostalgia – From The Upper Hills and Old Times
It was later than autumn here on Project Earth. The cool winds intercepted the previous warmth of the September month. We had past the times when the leaves were changing and the woven tree-covered mountains took on the various colors of yellow, orange, purple and even red. The trees took on a sea of color to make the canopy of autumn more vibrant and alive.
I swear, one could walk outside and smell the aroma of the season. One could smell the hint of wood burning from fireplaces and escaping through chimneys to permeate the air. At this moment, I could feel the nostalgia. I could feel the memories and taste the emotions which I admit were bitter sweet and beautiful.
A Little from the Abstract: Reversing Our Polarity
I am here, between two poles, mid-gravity, and I am neither up or down or even mid-range but instead, I am somewhere in an atmosphere, which is either unexplained or misunderstood.
I am between two poles.
It is morning somewhere in a city where the pavement takes the sun between the buildings. There is shade and moments where the sun peeks through. My hands are tied in some regard. Tall buildings block the views but on occasion, we can find ourselves somewhere by water or someplace unobstructed and feel the breeze move through our hair.
Just to Write: The Day’s of Way Back When
Early morning when the sun was about to show, the night was behind us and the dawn was proof that as young as we were, we were living. We were alive enough to recognize that we beat the dawn and that we broke the night into different pieces of memory. We lived as fast and as wild as we could and throughout the night, we danced and we played and we sweated in the hot celebrations in the downtown scene. We moved with trance-like music beneath the bright lights flashing and strobe lights, beaming and flickering, or pulsating to the techno-sounds and hypnotic beats of club music.
Continue readingJust to Share
One of the more interesting stories to me in the business world is the story about a man named Paul O’Neill. This was a man who came into the role of CEO at a company called Alcoa (Aluminum Company of America.)
What interests me most about this is not the position O’Neill held or the fact that I remember the Alcoa commercials from when I was a kid. No, what I appreciate most about this story is O’Neill’s approach when he first started his role.
The Written Addiction 