the irrelativity of time

Time is an illusion.

For example:

Let's go on a run.

A half hour run.

Time. Thirty minutes. This is truth, right?

Now for each mile you run, let's say you have varying paced miles (whose values don't matter because time is an illusion): 

9:10 

8:19

10:12

But none of that matters. 

nor does your mile average that is 9:12. 

Because you still stop running once you have reached 30 minutes. 

So nothing that occurred in-between the parameters of that thirty minute truth (illusion), is real. Because the time you started with wasn't real. 

Even though there were three different variables held in the thirty minute span of time, it didn't change your overall finishing time. These were only a one off calculation of a plausible happening of the within. 

Therefore, it's all bull shit. Let's say you get faster and can reach your end goal, that 30 minute run faster.  But no you can't. Thirty minutes is thirty minutes. It is an illusion that we feed too much esteem into for control sake.

 And the outcome? You may have the ability to reach your destination sooner but will not due to your constrain of a popular illusion called time. 

self-awareness. how bout it.

I've been getting really annoyed at life lately, namely, in the observing other the general population's behaviors...

Everyone has always got something to say, whether that is their political views, religions vomiting, or regurgitation of pop culture (shoot me), that they don't even see how futile these breaths are, this WASTED energy.


I am getting angry just thinking about it.

And yet, things like "I want to change my life, I've gained weight, how do I get healthy," all the actually important shit, gets swept under the rug because maybe it's not too cool to talk about or perhaps it's too fucking difficult.

I've been finding myself checking out, and checking out hard. When I am in the midst of conversations like this is my present state of self, I'm either found walking out of these situations, or poutting myself into a deep, trance like meditation to preserve my precious mind (hence why I do not watch the news, horror films, television, and the like).

The amount of energy, and passion that is projected behind these talks, these 'views' that so fervently need to be shared, disgust me. how can we be so unaware?


 How can we honestly think that these are the things that should be highlighted in this beautiful life?

If only the general human populace had 1% of that passion and awareness as to what is going on in reality tv, sports, or other bull shit they like to quack about, into their OWN SELF AWARENESS, maybe this world wouldn't be such a fucked up place after all.

Maybe we would be more mindful in using one trilliongabillion pieces of paper in corporate America, wasting 75% of our meals when we dine out because we are on some stupid ass diet followed by "I'll take the cheesecake," in how we treated this thing that we call earth, oh wait, is that the medium that allows us to even be alive at all? Weird. I haven't thought about that in twenty years.

These topics and the lack of any awareness, whatsoever, disturb me to my current state of "checked out." As I observe these daily tendencies of most individuals, I am left, mouth agape, at the square thought process, tilling and toiling in the negative muck that, hold on to your bootstraps, is MADE UP BY US.

confidence through words

is it not enough to bring forth your own confidence in holding up a belief, thought or feeling of yours?


why is it that we need to bring in a coup of 'other supporters' to fluff what we are about to say so the other person becomes distracted in the deemed 'righteousness' of the credibility with which that person speaks with?


instead, why can't we just be vulnerable enough to throw it out there? no matter how uncomfortable it makes us feel, how deeply it ruffles our feathers and how we are then left with no control over what the other person's response or reaction to what we are saying will be?


these things get easier the more you repeat them. and yes, bringing forth credible sources is fitting when you're trying to make a mark in writing a paper-when plagiarism comes into question-but the beauty of being human is that we can talk in first person. and that first person is you. it is your experience, it is your, perception of the world through your experience. believe it or not it is self absorbed- you know now other way.


therefore, let that vulnerability shine and let it be enough that YOU feel this way and want another person to know. don't come with loaded guns. that's exactly what we are trying to get away from here. get back to you. that's all you need. be confident enough in your own skin suit that you don't have to bring in the reinforcements to have your back.

a'changin

Shit's


a


changing




folks.

big shit.

the way I feel about air freshner(s), is the same way I feel about pharmaceuticals.




they're bull shit. a mask for what's in front of us, surrounding us, effecting us, vexing us.




why?




imagine you just took a big shit.




we've all been there and can relate.




you know it's gunna smell gnarly.




now, wouldn't you rather own the stank and rock it,




versus letting the smelly ass particles grip onto some man made other shitty smell(s) -smells promising to take you to far away fairy tale lands, laden with rolling hills of roses and fresh breezes-that will, inadvertently drown the surrounding air with shitty, carcus smelling flowers, lingering longer than if you'd actually let the shit storm pass by?




all we are doing here is spending money to mask a smell(s)  (see most scripts for medications-in this case, masking symptoms), in a shoddy, ineffective, rather disgusting guise.




air shouldn't smell. in the neutral sense of air.




if there is a smell in the air, it will be/should be, a natural by product of a catalyst- think: cooking,
painting, farting.




the medium is the air.




we are the shit storm.




so whatever we've created in the medium of this space-air-have a go at this:


expire the masks. don't mask the feels. embrace the shits. get uncomfortably comfortable in all the shitty symptoms.


and then,


let it pass.

until you have no words.

What’s left? No tickling words, a head space cleaned with the night crew, spotless in imperfection. Subdued and covered up, brushed under the rugs told to be ok now. Suck it up.

 

Dad’s arm, teaching small infant ‘neath first swim, holds billowing curls ‘neath gurgling waters, water leaking into mouths  panicked attempted to vacumm seal in the life lines of oxygen left. The seonds pass, gun shots to the mind, soul squirming, eyes twinkling with each bite of fractioned light, rewound in slow motions, trying gripping begging for it to end, twelve months passing, though not even four seconds a’met.

Then it stops. Mighty force dissipates, bobbing head gasping for air, crashing through waters walls. Stillness ensues. Things rearranged, hidden in the spaces. Slowly, steadily treading to shore, naked body trickling in substance not his.

 

And so, it all vanishes. So the story goes. You’ll meet this moment again. I assure you. And you’ll wipe your brow, mop your shivering body to a place of comfort and put on the suit that isn’t you.

It will repeat. Over and over. And over again.

Until you have no words. And you find your head ‘neath the water, grasping for air. Confused as an flightless balloon. The thoughts race, panic ensures, head submerged under the water, bashing brain back and forth between the mind’s house, and you’ll see a light, that thought will pull itself up out the well with stolen ropes. You’ll place it in your hand, seashell found on shore, gazing quizzically at the shape, the colors. Here comes the pang, discomfort, the fear snaps off your neck. Seashell assailed, catapulted back into the sea.

puzzle pieces

in some satirical distortion of prayer and pose, the daggered edge of a puzzle piece once seemingly so fitting.

nay and sans all tumbling space fillers, projectile vomit in the eyes of the knight. to listen, not leach in head bashing discourse, eyes twisted attempted escape in attic of head for to stay shall be death, committed in coffin yeth.

mind slaughtering goath, praise have you no ear? guts knotted, ropes anchoring ship, like body dried up, on shore shown woe a muck.

dripping, gasping for air, the thrashing combat caught from tide 'ver tide. in vertigo, life altering silence, truth slamming and bashing brain stems, African drums in tribal ceremony. Listen now will you? Ye pieces no longer afit. In-pose vacillation, walls caving in, reality shattered, deemed whiplashing halt in life.

gazing up in smothered perplexion, for idenity a'gone, this puzzle but a'new. invitations thrice met, cast afloat no remose, crept dissimulation with 'er a passing night. Turned on in ear, in heart, and soul, chocking in throat, no voice, sounding to demote. Strength shattered, stained glass, rainbows exploding like kites ajet n'air. What's to come, still unknown, puzzles chrysalis, rudimentary silhouettes, expressionism, dancing ballerinas with site of shore.