What is it that defines you?......What makes up the very essence of who you are?
Is it how tall you are? or how much you weigh?
Your hair, eye, skin color?
How old you are?
Is it your name? your gender?
NO! Those things are not who you are. Those things are visual.They are geographical, and stereotypical, and cliche.
I'll tell you exactly who you are.
You are your favorite songs, and all the lyrics that constantly get trapped inside your head. You are all of those lingering thoughts.The bad ones, ya know, the ones you wouldn't tell a soul. You are your collection of geeky romantic comedy dvds, and the comic book clippings pasted to your fridge. You are the variety of fruity flavored oatmeal you eat on Sunday mornin....
And you are even more than that...
You are a compilation of senseless tears, hollow prayers, and crooked smiles. You are those funny faces you make at yourself while you're getting dressed for work, or the mini air guitar rock band you create as you're driving in the car. You are that innocence that only god sees when you fall to your knees at night.
You are a million little things.
You are where you came from, but more so you are where you are going.
If you don't mind...I'd love to come too.
Monday, June 30, 2014
Thursday, June 19, 2014
Consequences
I've come to a point in my life where I am beginning to realize that I am not immune to feeling the pain of all the poor choices that I make. My power has returned to be able to make choices on my own free will. With this god given power I need to remember that although I am thinking clearly, left to my own devices, I may still choose very poorly. Today the consequences of my actions are vital. They are a painfully important lesson in this journey I call life. In my past I knew not that I was behaving ridiculously. I had no idea that I was unreasonable. When I act that way now boy does it show.
In my addiction I, like many others, had lost entirely my power of choice. The decisions I made were no longer on my own accord. They were made on impulse, and built upon years and years of mistrust, abuse, and desperation. The gears in my head kept turning and turning and grinding and grinding. They made irresponsible and highly irrational choices. My thoughts came in pairs. Plan A and B. A plan to get in, and an equally clever plan to get out. I have to say though that even my worst ideas always had the best of intentions.
The fog has cleared away. What a miracle for a lost prophet such as myself. This alcoholic brain of mine unfortunately does not take a day off. It has a default mode. Every 24 hours that pass it sets it self right back to where it started. So I wake up every day of my life being 11yrs old again. Needing to configure age appropriateness, responsibilities, and expectations. I am forced, in my daily reprieve, to let go of all I thought I knew, and have faith in something bigger than me.
My heart held a pain that to this day is still too horribly difficult to describe in words. It drug along a sadness that spoke to me in tongues. It made me hallucinate....fantasize....crave the unquenchable thirst of a love I was to never know. It would tell me lies that I would be forced to believe. I would defend those half truths, and manipulate them into words my feeble heart was able to understand. It was so loud. It is still so very loud. My mind yearned for salvation. It yearned for quiet...It is still searching for that silence.
In my addiction I, like many others, had lost entirely my power of choice. The decisions I made were no longer on my own accord. They were made on impulse, and built upon years and years of mistrust, abuse, and desperation. The gears in my head kept turning and turning and grinding and grinding. They made irresponsible and highly irrational choices. My thoughts came in pairs. Plan A and B. A plan to get in, and an equally clever plan to get out. I have to say though that even my worst ideas always had the best of intentions.
The fog has cleared away. What a miracle for a lost prophet such as myself. This alcoholic brain of mine unfortunately does not take a day off. It has a default mode. Every 24 hours that pass it sets it self right back to where it started. So I wake up every day of my life being 11yrs old again. Needing to configure age appropriateness, responsibilities, and expectations. I am forced, in my daily reprieve, to let go of all I thought I knew, and have faith in something bigger than me.
My heart held a pain that to this day is still too horribly difficult to describe in words. It drug along a sadness that spoke to me in tongues. It made me hallucinate....fantasize....crave the unquenchable thirst of a love I was to never know. It would tell me lies that I would be forced to believe. I would defend those half truths, and manipulate them into words my feeble heart was able to understand. It was so loud. It is still so very loud. My mind yearned for salvation. It yearned for quiet...It is still searching for that silence.
Saturday, June 7, 2014
The way I do
Do they want you the way that I do? I can't imagine so..
I feel every inch of your body without even touching you. I have memorized every curve. Tracing you with only my thoughts and the gracefulness of my finger tips. How I long to know what you must taste like. Is it a flavor all your own. Will it match up to the way you smell, the color of your beautiful eyes or the way your porcelain skin feels as it ever so slightly grazes mine...
Do you dream about me the same way that I dream about you. In the day time... all day long. I'm dreaming as I look at you. Eyes wide open. I see you in every shade of the rainbow, but mostly in black and white. That is the kind of man you are. You're hot and then you're cold. You're all in and then once the fear rears its ugly head, you my dear, are all out once again. You don't know how i'ts supposed to feel. You think you know. You see me. You see me through those same eyes that follow me around the room. The same eyes that speak to me in only our secret language. You need me. And I need you.
You're lost my child. Things aren't always how they are supposed to be. The plan has hills and valleys and many many roads less traveled by. There are detours and stop signs and green lights. Go. Go where the wind takes your crazy mind. Go to where your thoughts wander when you sleep. I am there. The gentle wind, like my hand, will guide you to where you have always belonged.
They don't want you like I do.
I feel every inch of your body without even touching you. I have memorized every curve. Tracing you with only my thoughts and the gracefulness of my finger tips. How I long to know what you must taste like. Is it a flavor all your own. Will it match up to the way you smell, the color of your beautiful eyes or the way your porcelain skin feels as it ever so slightly grazes mine...
Do you dream about me the same way that I dream about you. In the day time... all day long. I'm dreaming as I look at you. Eyes wide open. I see you in every shade of the rainbow, but mostly in black and white. That is the kind of man you are. You're hot and then you're cold. You're all in and then once the fear rears its ugly head, you my dear, are all out once again. You don't know how i'ts supposed to feel. You think you know. You see me. You see me through those same eyes that follow me around the room. The same eyes that speak to me in only our secret language. You need me. And I need you.
You're lost my child. Things aren't always how they are supposed to be. The plan has hills and valleys and many many roads less traveled by. There are detours and stop signs and green lights. Go. Go where the wind takes your crazy mind. Go to where your thoughts wander when you sleep. I am there. The gentle wind, like my hand, will guide you to where you have always belonged.
They don't want you like I do.
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