How many times
have I sat here,
alive,
and wondered
what it would feel like
to not be alive?

Why do I waste my aliveness,
as limited as it is,
in this way?
Why do I waste this precious breath,
this precious, continuous
beating of the heart,
pondering what I will be like
without it?

Answer.

Because my mind has an
unquenchable desire
to know
what is can not know..

and this is my demise.

My heart is full of ideas;
my mind is full of questions.

So many places I could be,
people I could become,
sights to be seen,
lives to be understood -

but I am here.

And is here
where I am intended to be? -
I think yes,
but a defying opinion
arises when I consider
the vast possibilities in life,
the potential that humans hold
to paint their existence
in whichever way they please.

Something is growing in me,
inspiring me to discover, to become,
and that something feels a lot like
a pull in the right direction.

But for now -
I am here;
and the present
is the only reality
that I know.

one of the bad days 

How would I be capable
of explaining this life,
this series of events,
explaining the way it has
changed me, morphed me,
into a person I no longer know,
to any other soul?

I'm fully convinced
that no other would understand;
I don't feel comfortable in my
own skin, my own mind.

I feel foreign.
My feet travel forward,
immersing themselves in
the continuation of time,
of life, of activity,
but my mind protests.

Where do I belong now?
with a lost father, a lost faith -
at loss of any explanation,
any meaning behind the madness.

I am a lonely wayfarer
consumed with the brutality
of uncertainty.

Life is a crazy occurrence. Reality is unnatural, but we as humans (limited beings) have made it out to be natural, normal, monotonous...

Let's think this through.

People - our feet are bound to a water-filled, land-covered orb suspended in space. There are billions of orbs like ours floating around us, but we inhabit this one. No one is one hundred percent certain as to why we're here, experiencing all these moments of pain and joy, connecting to fellow wayfarer's around us. We can claim ideas and explanations and faiths in an attempt to process why we exist here, in this place, in this time, but I am convinced that nothing is certain. Maybe certainty is overrated. Maybe to be uncertain is to be in the minority - to be in love with life regardless of explanation. How the moments fit together, what they mean, and the excitement of not yet knowing the moments that will come - uncertainty is beautiful.

What I am convinced of is that there is some force greater, beyond our comprehension, that explains the reasoning behind our seemingly irrational existence. We have to trust that force in an attempt to remain sane. If we had no purpose or reason for living, then how could we trek on? We're all trusting something - that something that keeps us alive and feeling worthy of breath. It's keeping us passionate about moving forward, it's our explanation, our flame of existence.

As if contemplating why we're here isn't bewildering enough, there's this all-embracing theory that has been long claimed to explain it all -

Love.

In each religion, spirituality, in each heart and mind, there is this strong universal concept that connects us to people and activities and life in a way that we are unable to fully describe. How interesting that the closest way I can explain my existence on this earth is by a concept of feeling that's nearly unexplainable.

Feelings of love trounce me. Talk of love overwhelms me. Attempting to rationalize why I'm madly in love with my passions burdens me. I don't want to explain it - I can't explain it. I have no answer for it. But I can feel it.

How something can be equally simple and complex at the same moment, as it is with love, strikes me as indescribable. And for some odd reason I am comforted by explaining my existence with an unexplainable concept. This reassures me that the pressure is not on me, a single, minuscule human being, to create a purpose for myself. The purpose already lives inside of me, it flows from me naturally. The purpose is love - a force beyond it all.

Life, the process of existing, is a crazy occurence.
I have found it to in no way be natural, normal, or monotonous.

As for God, the One who holds the power, the answer, I don't know anymore. It takes a humbled human state to admit that we don't know about God - to admit that we know so much less than we thought. Is this the proper way to believe in God? To know so little that we subtly give up on explanation? Maybe this is the true form of surrender - to forget the logistics and standards of faith and to believe in God in which ever way He comes - which can be so different for each human, for each individual life experience.

Those who believe often claim that God is all-knowing, loving, and existing. He is everywhere, always, intertwined with every experience, every emotion. But do they live like that? I ask that often, I so often wonder and am preoccupied with the thought. If He really is all of those attributes (which I have great inclination to believe that He is based on my personal human experience) then why do we diminish the impermeable power by only accepting some?What if God does accept all? (Which is what "these people" will claim to believe, but do they practice this thought?)

My mind is extremely limited, I despise that part of life. I know what I have experienced, what I have witnessed, what I have felt. My internal emotions are mine only, I am the only being, the only soul they will belong to. What does this mean about God? Of that, I'm not sure. I do know where my mind stands because I live in it, but as for knowing where others minds stand, I am incapable of knowing. It's an absolutely horrid feeling to be incapable of knowing - it further reminds us of the big picture, the huge life and story unfolding around us. A horrid thought, yes, but equally liberating. We're not responsible for the other wayfarer's trekking along in this life beside us. We can share with them out perceived human experience, our hearts and our love, and express our gratefulness for the human that they are, but we can't be in their minds. We get snippets and pieces of their thoughts with conversation and observation of actions, but that's as far as we go.

So will we ever truly know one another? Once again, I do not know. I believe that the answer is a melancholy no. It's frightful to understand that we will never truly known anyone but ourselves, but I've been having this progressive and beautiful and radical thought (which I hope will not escape me anytime soon) that this is where God steps in. I'd like to believe that God in infinitely compassionate, and that He will not let out shifts on Earth run out without anyone really knowing who we are (besides ourselves, that is).

This is my grand idea here - it's been said umpteen times as long as this orb has been suspended in space and time, I'm sure - but listen close. God knows us. Our thoughts and our ideals, the pretty and the ugly, the everything. The unknown in our brains, the part that we don't use, that we aren't aware of, He fills it. The heart, the blood, the veins, the pumping of life; He adores it because He has the conscious ability to love and understand our lives, more than any other human can love and understand your life. Whoever you are, wherever you may be, He's there and it doesn't stop. This is not a religious fact or a church-y sermon, this is my personal idea of God, expressed and believed by others in the past, but continually believed by me now.

I say these things with confidence because I need some form of explanation for my human existence, and this is what my life has caused me to believe thus far. To hold tight to these ideas, to convey my individuality, and to respect and love others for their existence, All this because I have One being, One ultimate, all-knowing being that knows me better than I know myself; and if I did not have that, I would be utterly alone in my mind and I would go mad.  Someone else has to know the madness and has to explain the madness - God does this. The thought is freeing.

Dhammapada - Buddhist scripture

sorry for the bleakness (I'm not really apologizing)

Pissed off at the world
because nothing is the same.
You're gone and I swear
that the world has shifted
and now turns on a new axle.
A detrimental axle.
(Why can't everyone feel it?
Am I the only one?)
And what the hell is wrong
with my mind?
I have thoughts that
I didn't even know
my brain was capable
of having: chaos in my mind.

My advice to you;
never lose someone,
this may happen to you.
And if you do?
Read this and know
that you're not the only
messed up one
out there.

part two of my confused mind 

One the outside:
normal.
On the inside:
turmoil.
I'm leading two
separate lives,
neither of which
are satisfying
or give me any answers
or sense of comfort.

Neither of which
are true.
Both are a lie.
If one was "more true"
than the other,
it would be the turmoil -
the tossing and turning
of the Deceiver
between the ears.

I don't have
control of this anymore.
Being myself appeals to me
but so does reinventing myself
to be someone who
knows the reason
behind death.

Do I remain, normal,
unknowing, regarding death
as an unanswerable demon?
Or do I break free,
in turmoil,
and let my mind run wild
at all the possibilities
of why the Power in the sky
let's us live here,
making connections,
making lasting love,
then takes us away?

It's a terrible process.
Especially for the ones
left behind on planet Earth,
orbiting and thinking,
"what's the meaning behind this?"



I'll take turmoil any day.
It's a little more satisfying
than normality.

I haven't posted in awhile. My thought process has been changing; I feel as though my mind has grown darker. I don't know whether this is good, bad, or necessary. We'll see where it takes me.

the two month mark 

My mind is a whirlwind
with no peace, and no comfort.
My mind is haunting
evoking feelings that are daunting.

I don't want to do this anymore.
I'd like to wipe the slate clean
and start new,
like a child ignorant
of the world
and all the cruel
people that live here.
I'd like to be ignorant
to the process of dying,
not knowing that it
will one day come for me.

I see dying a lot now.
I see minds dying,
I see faith dying,
I see brightness dying,
I see hope dying,
I saw my dad, dead.

No one should see that. Ever.
If God is good
then I have been believing wrong
this entire time.
Please, define for me
the true meaning of
the word "good".

The world is very different now,
characterized by questions
and thoughts, unanswered,
unimportant
to anyone but the thinker.
Think think think
for two months
and your mind gets you nowhere
except darker than it was before.

My mind is a whirlwind
with no peace, and no comfort.

taking a walk on February 21st, 2014

It should not be
mentally acceptable
to be consumed
with so much happiness
and so much indecisiveness
in one moment.

I can't control the madness
of my mind.
It darts and fly's ten thousand
places at once.
There's no internal resting place.

Some days I want to kill
my mind and
all the questions;
other days I want to
dwell in them,
I want to feel them and the
uncertainty, as if it brings me
some form of cruel comfort.

Tell me, God, where are you
present in these days?

I'm dying to know -
what does your mind feel like?

Is it swirling, spinning,
uncontrollable,
and terrifying?
Is it taking over
the place of your heart?
Is it detrimental?
Is it consuming from
the inside out?

Or is it peaceful?
Does it hold the truth?