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Yes, This Is A Rant (But Hey, This Is Also My Page, So There Ya Go!)

Please note that this is written with a heavy heart. I am sad to say the least. I am frustrated and frightened about what I see. However, I am a firm believer that our surroundings are contagious. The climate we share and the landscapes, the mood and the arguments we hear are absolutely infectious. What I mean is it is really easy to catch crazy. It’s easy to catch the madness and become swept away by public opinion.

The world really is an impactful place. And we hear the news on a daily basis.
We hear it all. We hear about the arguments over hate crimes. We hear the reports, like the ones from yesterday.

So sad . . .
A gunman openly fired and killed ten people in Boulder, Colorado. And next will be the analysis over what happened and why. Next will be the connection to a shooting that happened a week ago in Georgia. Next will be the blame and the finger pointing to find responsibility.

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After Divorce: Find Your Process

Dreams change. I know this is true. I know that my dreams from ten years ago are much different from my dreams that I have now. I know that my plans have changed. My intentions have changed too. Or, is that I have become more focused? Maybe I’ve matured. Maybe I’ve learned a trick or two. Perhaps the answer is that life has changed; therefore, my experience has changed and as a result, my visions have changed.

In fairness though, my vision is still to find the ultimate answer. I want to know more about my purpose. I want to understand my reason for living. I want to know more about my “why?”

Yet, I have grown. I have matured. I have learned and I have reached different levels of awareness. I have seen that life changes without warning. I have learned that my expectations are not always met. Plans fall apart. People change their roles in our life. Goodbyes can suck and separations can be painful but sometimes, changes are necessary. It was hard for me to understand this but with the exception of our past, nothing in life is a permanent thing.

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The Question is “How?”

What is it?
What is the difference between you or me or anyone else? I understand about DNA. I understand that we are all born with unique and individual talents. Some are born naturally funny. Some are born with athletic ability. Some people are born from the lucky gene pool and for them, simple things like money and financial security will never be a worry.
Yet still, even to them, life comes with difficulties.
Even to some of the wealthiest in the world, their money does not buy what they want, which could be happiness or freedom from depression, freedom from anxiety, or more to the point, freedom from themselves.

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The Best Investment

I am sure that I am not alone when I say I have needs. I have the need to be wanted and liked. I’m sure that I am not by myself when I say that I look for acceptance. I look to be validated. Sure. I want approval.
I want to be understood. I want to be heard. 
The truth is acceptance and validation should really come from within. And if this doesn’t come from within, then where does it come from? Other people?
Is that right?

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Just a Point of View

Two poles and I don’t mean North and South. No, there are two poles in me. There are two sides, and I mean the ups and downs. This is more than anyone can see from a surface level. There is no way to explain this.
All I can say is there are two sides to contend with. To which, I wonder if anyone can actually tell. I wonder if anyone understands or “Gets it.” Does anyone get it?
(about the two poles, I mean)

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A Little From The Abstract: The City

A summer’s evening and the wind was warm.  I was sitting outside of Central Park, not too far from a bookstore that ripped apart my dreams, which was par for the course. Besides, this is part of the path I’ve chosen. This is how things go sometimes. Some days are favorable. Others, well, not so much.
I had my way though. I had one of those dirty water dogs from the hot dog cart with mustard, ketchup and sauerkraut. I could hear the sounds of the City. I could feel the wind in my hair. For some reason, 57th Street looked different to me that day. Maybe the world looked different or perhaps this was only a new chapter and there I was again, back to the beginning of something new.

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That Thing We Call the Past

It’s okay to let go. (You know?)
It’s okay to move on. It’s okay to move forward with life because otherwise, we’re stuck with more of the same. This means we find ourselves stuck with the same old anger. This means we’re stuck with the same goddamned resentments. This means to be stuck in the same past experience that we wish we could change (but we can’t).
So instead, we keep reliving the unforgettable and unforgivable moments that lead us back to the chemical reactions in our body, which is the end result, or otherwise known as emotion. 

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A Rant

I can remember the smell in the room. I remember the family. I remember their faces. I can remember the emptiness and the cold silence. The Mother was shaken.
She had a look of disbelief on her face. Shocked, as if she could not believe something like this happened in her house, right under her nose, without even knowing. 
I can remember the deployment call, which was not unlike any other deployment call. The information is brief and simple. I am told the client’s name, if there is one. I am told which emergency room the client is in and whatever details are given about the overdose. 

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Abstract Prose: The Different Concepts Between “Pain” and “When”

When the numbers stop counting and there is nothing else in your mind to add or subtract; when there is only the acceptance that this is life; and whether in battle or peace, we realize that life is life; then we understand that there is no more us or them. There are no more quarrels or reasons to go back and forth. The sum of it all is simple to say the least. I am me. You are you. They are they. We are we and us is us.
We can set aside our pronoun troubles for a moment. We can stop pointing fingers. The pot can call the kettle black or not. Either way, none of this matters.
(Does it?)
When the complications of our interpersonal math cease to exist; when the need to please, to interact, or counteract the neighboring bodies around us subsides and all else is clear; when we see clearly then we can understand that everything else is nothing more than a distraction. This is the dilemma.

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A Note From the Artist

I think about these late-in-life success stories. I think about people that have been grinding and grinding their entire lives, knocking on doors, and having them slammed shut in their face. I think about the people that lived this way for decades before they found success. I think about writers that put out manuscript after manuscript only to realize that nobody cares. Every idea you have has already been had by someone else. And somewhere is a room with boxes on shelves that contain every thought or idea, from music to scripts, to paintings and sculptures. There are patents in there which will never see sunlight. There is genius in these rooms but they will never be unearthed or read. I think about the artists and the creators. And all they can do is move on. Write another one, build something else, keep pluggin or not, but either way; life is life and this is the way it is. If life was easy, everybody would be a pro, right?

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