Clunky!

- What I am about to post is in no way polished, it is actually really bad, like, truly kinda awful, IT IS VERY BAD! but a part of growing into better written ways is to accept the mediocre as a necessary step, enjoy, imaginary friends, knowledgeable jury of mine -

I cannot be direct. I cannot, for the life of me, spoil this sacred medium of mine, this escape, I cannot disgrace it. This is what I run to whenever the weight of reality becomes too much for me to handle, this is what I do whenever I need to remind myself of those things that I enjoy doing, things I’ve done in the past, those activities that are only ever present when reality is suspended, when context leaves the room, I am no genius. As I sit in a room that isn’t mine, I realize how silly this whole thing is. Here I am, “Pictures Of You” serving as the soundtrack to this self-aggrandizing ritual, here I am, unable to stop recurring to the same old expressions, unable to stop recycling the opening lines of each phrase. I am unable to make sense of a lot of things. Biology is the culprit of the biggest mystery of all, and I am not speaking of Nessie, long-necked friend of calm waters, if her mystery entails any biological factors at all, what the hell do I know, what I’m referring to is the cease of all as you and I know it. There is no point in dwelling on the inevitable, at some point each one of us will be faced with the same fate: an ending and ash. I always like to think that those inevitable rules of life will not grab a hold of me, that I came here to forever glide on earthly surfaces, that the things I love will be here forever, and that what is good will never die. 

I do not have any grandiose plans for the future, all I want is to be okay, to lessen the amount of worries. Clunky, that’s how I would describe my current writing. It needs time to settle in, this new way of being, to let it seep into the crevices of each letter. I will grow, inevitably, into something better, I hope.

Candy Jewels, A Return To Form

"My palace in which all was a fact, it hasn’t crumbled, it hasn’t dimmed, my plan has been left untouched." Back then I did have a plan, sort of. I was highly delusional, bored, and isolated, a combination that can only bring disappointment and a forced expansion of the mind once it all comes crashing down. 

Modes of being, something to keep track of. I’ve rearranged the visual innards of my mind multiple times by now, all to accommodate the waves of feeling that crash against imaginative, visual shores. This time around there are no delusions of grandeur, no jeweled conjectures to get me through uneventful days, all that there’s left of my past written ways is a desire to bridge the gap between what I see, as it is, and what I feel, what is perceived. 

There’s a lot that has happened since I got serious about periodically letting thoughts flow into screen, back then I thought it would take me to a mythical place in which my importance was a given, I wanted a way out, a carefully thought-out plan, and so I was transfixed with the possibility of being someone. Nowadays, all I want to do is keep myself busy, enjoy and adore all that I can, for there is love in this life of mine, and I am no longer a ribboned beast, a real person is what I am now. Perhaps there is not much sense to be made, for there is no audience in mind, or maybe what my writing suffers from the most is the clear lack of factual material, but I believe that context can only taint an otherwise wholesome activity, and so, I will continue to do as I please, for the only thing that serves as worthy fuel to this is my wish to keep doing what comes naturally, to imagine myself elsewhere, to put pen to cream-colored paper, fingers to backlit keyboard, it is all about being, one way or another.  

I shall write myself out of gnarly frames of mind, into a land of spotless circumstances, a better starting point, a place in which there is no harm to be made, no danger, no ghouls to torment my otherwise tranquil existence, a place in which I am surrounded by all the things I adore, where my only companion is the one I love, a place in which all that I want in this life of mine materializes itself into existence, a place in which worries vaporize into glittering dust, turning into a memory of a far-away annoyance. 

This is my territory, my land of the in-between, where the sun is never cruel, the cold never unforgiving, a place in which all is nice, where the moon comes out of hiding as soon as the late evening starts to settle in, a place in which I sit and watch the trees sway in their sunset dance, honey-dipped light bathing rich foliage, a weather tender as a loving hug, a place pristine and out of reach to the outside world, my haven of lilac skies and soft embraces.