Poetry and One Year On

Hello everyone,

Wished I was feeling in better spirits when writing this, but can’t help it. I’m glad WordPress told me it’s my one year anniversary on WordPress, honestly cannot believe it’s been a year.

So much has happened, so much has changed.

I have been through a lot, lots of stuff has changed, lots of things all running through my head.

Poetry has made it all much more bearable, even being a compulsion of mine, something I intend to continue, so long as I have feelings to describe, understand and make sense of.

Thank you to all the good people who have had many kind words to say about my work, kind people who listened, read, messaged me and gave me kind messages!

If I had known today was the anniversary, 15 minutes before the day was over and with work in 6 hours I would have planned something larger. Maybe tomorrow.

But thanks to everyone.
Helping me when I was trapped in a dark place.

Finally found a way out.

Still get good and bad days as everyone does and will so long as you’re human. But I’m moving along, better, even despite being sad tonight, have a great friend to hold on to, hold out for and hang out with.

My studies are going really well, confirmation of an aim I’ve had for a long while and committed to it fully.

My close friend helped me (unknowingly) find a better work-life balance, writing positive poetry, but they showed me. The positive things to see.

Things will go up and down.
Things will at times be difficult.

But I can.

All my WordPress family I believe in, no matter what you are going through, I hope and wish you well. To fight your demons as I have fought mine.

On a side note, feeling slightly better after writing this, found the words to a poem I had the title for, and thought of another while writing this!

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Finding

The finding,
Oh so this feeling.
The greatest moments,
To be found,
Held close.

This finding,
A grip and grasping,
My finding

The happiness to be found through the finding.
The greatest of times.

The uncovered truths,
The meaning.

The great times to come.

My times to find,
Through the finding

Alive in the feeling,
The finding.

The grasp of the day, the feeling.
my feeling.

The grasp of this feeling.
Past the great unknown.

The finding has come,
The great finding.

Love

Love, a very hard thing to find, define, accept, think about.

I would definitely not say I’ve found it, but over the summer, I came close.

Love is, to see ‘imperfections’ as perfect- small quirks, personality, special traits.
Someone, even sitting in silence, feels right to be around.
Unexpected, and out of nowhere.
Someone different to you, yet also unbelievably similar
Someone who helps you, without even an intention or other motive.
Someone who, shows you the world from a different perspective.
Even through loss, you are forever changed.
A text, or their happiness even from afar, completely changes your day.
A person, it just feels right to be right next to.
Where their smile melts you.
Someone, where you’re determined to better yourself, to show them, and also prove to yourself.

Someone whose happiness is what matters most, and it makes you unbelievably happy also.

Sunsets For Another Day

The sun sets for another day.
The light of a day, replaced by darkness,
A temporary state of affairs
Before the light of another day.

Before another renewed chance at being.
The mistakes of the past put behind,
The shroud of darkness.

The pink and orange sunrise,
The start of another day.

Goodbye and goodnight to the long darkness of the night.

A renewed day to come,

Reminiscing on the good memories.

Looking through those good moments,

Those meaningful photographs,

The reminder of your smile.

Sunsets into darkness,

To come to another day,

Just as when I met you.

Both of us forging our own way,

Sitting in the kitchen and chatting.

A renewal of being.

A placement of thought.

Ecstatic enthusiasm surrounding.

A totality of feeling.

Holding onto the reminder of those times,

Even as the sun sets yet again,

I go into the night happy,

Looking forward to what the new day brings,

To when I can see you again.

A text to brighten my day,

Wanting to hear about yours.

Until then? Sunsets come and go.

Yet another day is always on the horizon.

My Life with Asberger’s

Imagine living in a world,
One where you are the outcast, an alien.
Where you see lots but cannot speak a word.

You internalise these thoughts, or maybe, they were always from inside and actually unreal outside of your own mind. You start questioning everything, yourself, others, your own physiological functioning.

There is a great difference between the fear and reality, but this is difficult to reconcile, see and remember. I have many friends, of which I am very lucky. But this doesn’t prevent my own mind, sabotaging my efforts, putting my mood down.

In terms of mood, my emotions vary wildly, very wildly within the time it takes for a thought to run through your mind (literally), I can change from a happy mood from going out with friends and feeling so blessed for the amazing people around me. All the way to remembering an awkward moment, or something someone said and it remains with me, I brood and it consumes me.

Asbergers for me isn’t an emotionless or a total inability to understand emotions, I can understand the emotions of friends, and relate. If I see a friend in a crisis I am always happy and there to help, I feel their pain in a semi-literal sense. I continue to help to try and play my part in helping as I know they would do for me. However, helping others hurts, for me, because I feel the sadness, for them, for their situation and it affects me for a long duration from hours to even weeks after the incident.

Asbergers isn’t necessarily about a disconnection with emotion, but a misguided-too-high connection, to feel great pain for them, to want to do anything to help them. It is, at least for me, overwhelming emotion, overwhelming empathy for another.

People always comment on the large number of times I say ‘sorry’, in casual conversation, I say it without even noticing now, like someone may say ‘okay’ or ‘ahhh’. Trying to analyse why I do this, without even noticing, I would guess it comes from my desire to remain within the group, even if there are absolutely no doubts within my head of my place in my friendship group.

Another aspect is my shy nature, I am totally shy, even if I do not show it to close friends, I am constantly thinking of what to say, how, (despite this I still make mistakes). Along with this, I am also very nervous at most times, and find doing new things very difficult. Doing new things always worries me as I overthink of every possible scenario and ways to tackle them, this then makes every decision a very brain-consuming one.

 


My favourite tv show, Rick and Morty, all of my friends know I am obsessed with it. One thing I commonly say, partially as a joke, but totally meant, is that “Rick and Morty isn’t a tv show, it’s a lifestyle.” Even this isn’t totally accurate, Rick and Morty is life. I so relate to the character of Rick more than anything else:

In a meaningless world, in which I try and try. Everything before your eyes turn to dust. Deeply sad, with occasions when the sadness is hidden. I try my best, I try to bring comfort and care to others (not unlike Rick, but he’s complicated). Rick, is deeply sad.

Even from memory, some examples include: Rick trying to kill himself, Rick sacrificing himself for Morty, Rick’s existential angst and painful existence.

It may be hard to explain, or understand, but even despite the dark bleak nature of existence, as outlined by Rick and Morty, I’m not sad, I’ve been better than I have been in years, however, even happiness doesn’t negate the aspects aforementioned.

Imagine never being able to trust your own perception, living blind, but even with blindness you have your other senses. Imagine having to use others’ as your own are faulty. Yet giving others’ trust over your own perception, your own existence and ability to interact with the world. Even as you find yourself imitating the behaviour of people I am around trying to understand. I am a new person, whenever I am around a different person. These aspects brought me to an existential panic and crisis of identity when I was 12. This hasn’t been resolved, but in the wise words of Rick, that I have to live by, “just don’t think about it”.
This level of trust I place in others, only few others, but still, means I am easily manipulated, (this is difficult) or so I think? Or maybe not? The problem with lacking perception, is that anything you ‘know’, you actually do not.
This only makes the ‘just don’t think about it’ even more relevant.

This post I have been editing for months, it’s not in a coherent order or structure, but a monologue of my being, by lack of understanding. A living I have become used to. Although I would hardly call it that. The perception or lack of, the strong emotions, the (very near) infinite empathy [sometimes in helping others, I even get overwhelmed sadness or happiness depending on their emotions]. There is one word for this existence. Torture.

However, even in saying this, it may sound bleak, I have gotten much better than I had been before, even as I describe it in dark or bleak terms, this living. This is life. Even in my happiness, or even ecstatic joy, this persists, this is existence. And this is why Rick and Morty is a show that resonates with me so greatly, it is life represented in metaphorical cartoon form.

So much more to say, but much of it I cannot even think of.
I think I am much better, but even analysing this, why, it doesn’t necessarily bode well. But I’ll try. There is no choice but to continue. Continue and “just don’t think about it”.

 


p.s. Even this blogpost was written, the first part in one [worse] state of mind while the second in a much better one, and thus may seen incoherent, quite fitting for the theme of this post, and… my life.

 


To end, I shall mention some lines I’m thinking of as a tattoo:

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

This is from Dylan Thomas’ Do Not Go Gentle Into that Good Night. It’s a poem that fills me determination to rage against the emptiness and find myself, find the light, the grab hold, never let go for as long as I can. It also reminds me of times of great sadness, wanting to rage against all that has hurt me and come out on top, to find something for going on. Every emotion I find myself feeling, it always can mean something related to these lines. Finally I shall end, with Dylan Thomas’ whole poem:

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.


 

Paths Intertwined.

The paths intertwined,

Intricate and simple.

All encompassing and separate.

Connected in all those little ways.

The people we meet and hold dear,

A meeting by chance.

A “hello” risked.

Conversation flourishing.

To make life feel bliss.

The moment chatting when everything is understood,

When you’re understood and understand.

The little paths we all take,

Some connect, others collide.

Very few make a splash and enhance what came before.

To prop up, until foundations are strengthened,

Until you’ve done the same.

These paths intertwined into ever complexity.

To brighten the darkest day,

Enlighten the closed mind.

To build lasting paths that strength and withstand the test of time.

That Fading Light

That fading light,

The times to be looked for,

Waiting to be,

But unsure,

Those times,

The small moments,

Moments of life,

Moments of love but unsure.

The making, being, be.

Those times,

Memories, to fade.

To remember,

Hold and keep.

Those moments,

That fading light.

Uncertainty but also certainly.

Those times,

Those memories and those moments.

Those times come to a close,

A final conclusion.

An end.

The time of going,

If knowing, the finality.

Giving Your All

Giving your all,

Waiting on a whim.

Happy and content,
Slight worries flitting by,
Apprehension and confusion,
Happiness at the forefront,
Thinking and wondering.

Here I sit.
Trying what I can.
Maybe not much?
But it’s what I have,
What I have to try for,

The place with which I stand,
In the middle of the many paths.

Giving my all,
My mind, hopes and wants,
The essence of life,
The attempts, giving and place.

Here I sit.

Having given my all.

Given my best.

Tried hard.

To be a good person,
To be a kind person,
To be truthful.
To show who I am,
To ask, to be,
After giving my all.

Pleasant Surprise

Pleasant surprise,

Nice intervention,

A world from anew,

A place not seen before.

The crazy, excited, ecstatic feeling.

The kindness and intelligence.

A world shown.

Thrown from my own,

Complete surprise.

Through this contentment.

A crazy revelation,

Crazy existence.

My place.

The crazy feeling.

Ecstatic and total. Crazy and looms

The Problem of Being Logical.

There is a problem of being too logical, it’s like being able to see while everyone else is unable, it’s like knowing to a solution to a mathematical equation that you cannot speak  or share.

I find this in many areas, where I rationalise something from a startpoint and don’t stop until it comes to an inevitable conclusion (while also accounting for any and all gatherable information and other points of view to find the ‘best’).

The most enraging times are those when someone I know listen to my rationalisation, agree with it being the rationalisation, but still disagree due to some ‘inherent feeling’.

I would like to reiterate that I do not mean I come up with an opinion and hold onto it dearly disregarding all other views, this is not what I do. What I do is find out lots of information, let’s say about a situation, then I rationalise, let’s say, a solution or rationale. From a premise I construct a path, and keep testing each brick, each step against all other bricks and pick the one that stands up the strongest.

The worst times are when others see and agree with the construction of a rationale, using a process like I have already mentioned, however even despite total agreement. They do not accept the end argument, lacking any disputing evidence rationale or argument.

It’s also difficult when people look at what you say or write and look at you like you’re speaking a different language. You start wondering are you?

The end conclusion of this on a personal note, for most (definitely 99% at the least) interactions I speak like I have castrated my own mind for the duration of a social interaction. It is usually easier this way, there is no confusion, a conversation is held and passed. However, there is no stretch, no growth, challenge or stimulation.

The problem of being logical, of being, self-neutering to fit in with everyone else.

I also do not wish to sound pretentious or self-important. I do not value my own opinion above others, I welcome and prefer it when others prove me wrong, provide evidence or a better and more rational view, this excites me and represents growth. I love an intellectual debate, a smart conversation. Questioning reality, experience, perception, views and everything there is to know. I love teaching others or sharing my opinion and prefer greatly others to share theirs. The best thing about other people sharing their opinion (even if I reason that it’s not the best potential evidence in an argument) is that it is potential evidence, it’s another tool to be used. Knowledge providing more. Providing growth.

As always, the problem being too logical. I’m left in a world, either castrated or an outcast. Either way, disatisfied and bored.