Looking Up In The Pondering Mind

Looking up,
Through the mind’s eye,
Deep into the deep blue sky above.
Of all there is,
Thinking of it all.

Looking up,
As the day fades away,
Thinking,
Of the path ahead,
Troubles of comprehension.
The raging turmoil of the waves ahead,
Times, worries and the depths.

Of the two-faced nature,
Of the world and its ways.
Wondering if it is time,
Time to give up,
To not hold on,
And to play it at its own game.

A choice never was to make,
Now pondering,
If it’s the way,
The only way,
To “play this game”.

With all playing it already,
Convincing, to play along.

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Have To Be

Have to be,
Have to be okay,
To be there and in place.
No room for want,
I just have to do.

Have is the word,
My modus operandi.

The place in time,
Place of mind.
Just in the time,
With the forceful mind,
Throwing all out.
Being or finding,
A way to be,
As I.
Have to be.

No choice but to tiresomely forge, find and walk.
This path to come,
Forge with all the fire of my light.
To tread this path.
Just “have”.
All I have, think.
All there is time for.

As always,
The time for having to be.

To make this path.
Push myself harder.
To go further.
Take the path tiredly travelled.
To make it through.

Worries, sadness, tiresome are only states.
No matter the strength.
Just to push on,
Push past.

To make this time,
Make this into time.

No choice but having to.
To find the time,
Find the mental space.

Just.
Having to be okay.
No matter the truth,
Or what I want.
No matter the need for a break.

Pushing past this.
Moving on to.
Just having to make and push this path forward.
Just have to.

Eventually will find rest,
In mind, soul and body.
Just have to.


Spoke a lot at the end of my last poem, worried, lots of worries came out I didn’t even think were there. Was listening to music and a thought for this one came.

Thinking of people, if they asked if I was okay, as they have other times. This poem is always the usual answer, am I okay? I have to be. Simple as that. Sad but true many times. Even if I put it all into my mind and forget so hard until I can’t remember. It’s just that I have to be fine. Have to be. Have so much to do I don’t have time, effort or even the mind to worry. Only to bury, write about and move on and do what I need to, even if I can’t, I just have to.

Pick the Path

Picking the path,
A time of many,
So many roads to go,
The times come and go,
All authored and made.
Picked and lived.

Picking this path.
The mind’s changing tune
From the looking back on a time.

Picking this path of mine,
Of my mind.
Picking?
Or is it a choice.

The time flashing before my mind,
A time of so many,
Time to go and share.

All picked from the sea of the time.

Picking this path of mine.
Of the mind.
Of the time.


Writing this, came up with the name yesterday, thinking at the time about how my mind focuses on a good aspect and makes me happy or a bad one and it makes me sad. Same time, different focus and it all changes my feeling at the time. A good or bad, the feelings from the focus.

Reminded

Reminded,
So sweet,
Casual, in time this moment speaks.

With nothing,
But it still means,
It still means.

How,
A moment, offers a reminder,
Of a whole,
A moment,
A time.

A reminder of the whole world,
The smallestings things that bring back the life.
Bring me back to life.

Pulling, into the darkness so slick,
To grasp my hand,
Bringing glimpses,
Reality,
Forcing the dark to fade

Reminded,

Times, so whole,
More in this time,
Reminded.

Reminded in this time so new,
Of one quite old.
The continuity,
Gain, life and happiness.

Reminded.


Feeling really good, one thing today, made this whole week turn around, maybe longer than a week. What I do know for certain, is what I posted a while ago, about the branching path, the choice, I predicted what each was, as I had walked both. In the last (just had to look it up) 2 weeks, I’ve walked both paths (I can’t honestly believe it’s only 2 weeks, the feelings have made it feel like 4) and both have panned out exactly as I thought, I know, they always do. Now, back to the same choice, I have to make, feeling good right now.

Will put off the choice for now and bask in this happy feeling for a while.

Path Once Tread

The path once tread,
A path forking before me,
Being pushed to decision,
A choice, mine, but also not.
Forced to take a path,
With pain either side.

The path,
Itself, shows me promise but pain on one,
Next to a barren path, of lifeless functionality.
Both paths, also behind me, chosen in a network behind me.

How I come to the forked road again,
Having already walked,
Known how both turn out,
Left with different ways,
Hurt, thinking,
But one gives me reason, but also pain.

But whichever path I’m on,
The other’s more appealing.
Despite rationalising each and how they go.

Know what’s good for me, also isn’t,
But is better than the other.

Still this question flows through my mind.
A time,
Waiting for the next time,
Only on this current path.

A single step shutting it all down,
A single step,
From the best and worst feelings, to the painless, but also all-lacking.

My choice?
My path,
A path once tread,
Still, stuck with a choice,
An impossible choice.

Choice, of a path once tread.


Thinking, very deep-in-thought. People often try to give me advice, but it always comes back a singular aspect, a lack of understanding. A piece of advice given, consistently, may work for others, but is one thing that always takes everything of meaning from me. Leaves me with nothing. A path once tread, more than once, I’ve walked many times.

The past times that I have followed, thinking it would help, always has left me empty, dead in mind but not in actuality. Only serves to remind me, how no one understands, can understand.

People see me as crazy, loony, often hurting myself. There is a difference, this is normal, but hurt can be coped with if being meaningful. The advice people give, often, takes one pain away, by taking away the meaning and making everything into a weird state of not caring about anything, being robotic and functioning alive as a human but not wanting to.

Leaves me to a choice I have taken, thought about many times. To take a path that may hurt, but gives me a reason to keep fighting, or to take a path without the pain of the aforementioned but only by taking everything of meaning.

A life of emptiness is never better than a life of pain, if the latter comes with meaning and a strive to better.

I’m writing this, knowing how the path has always turned out, but being somewhat compelled to take the path, to leave myself with emptiness. Emptiness of everything. Happenings of today.

I do not know. My tonight’s going to be filled with pondering.

I know the outcome, as always, but the choice has to be made, not making a choice is a choice.

Feeling a little better writing this, and writing tonnes on my MoodTrack. Better, but still lacking a solution, an answer. Just happier, thinking of my best friend, the best human I know. And something they said to me, have done quite a few times, explaining stuff, helping, but never solving, much like the path I’m on even wanting the empty one sometimes. She said ‘You just see things differently’.

Will still need a lot of time tonight to think, but yeah.

The One Who Chooses

The one who chooses,
One body,
Two choices.

A dichotomy of method.
Many considerations.
I stand here at the crossroads.
Thinking,
Asking,
Pondering.

The one who chooses.
People.
We.
Connected, united yet also divided.

We stand here,
Holding,
Thinking,
The choice.

The one who chooses.

Where we are in place.

We. Are the one who choose.


A bit unusual, the inspiration for this poem is a part of a reading, a quote from Wallace Stegner. The quote reminded me of choice and let me imagine, slightly reminded me of Prometheus the movie and the Panspermia theory, and thought about humans and their impact on the planet and how when people say humans are a terrible species. I would always disagree. It is an intelligent species. As with everything with intelligence, it is capable of the most good and terrible things. It is choice that distinguishes us.

“the special human mark, the special record of human passage, that distinguishes man from all other species. It is rare enough among men, impossible to any other form of life. It is simply the deliberate and chosen refusal to make any marks at all… We are the most dangerous species of life on the planet, and every other species, even the earth itself, has cause to fear our power to exterminate. But we are also the only species which, when it chooses to do so, will go to great effort to save what it might destroy.

From: Cronon, William. ‘The Trouble with Wilderness: Or, Getting Back to the Wrong Natue”. Environmental History, Vol.1, No.1, (Jan., 1996), pp.7-28

Killing Feelings Unwanted

Feelings, thrown and killed on the side.
Once held weight,
Now a lifeless husk.

My feelings, lying lifeless on the side.
Old, withered and left out in the cold.
A time it’s expired.
My own process;
Cutting off the hand, to save the arm.
Cutting out the feelings, to save the self.

The deep carving,
Reaching in,
To pull out every tendril,
Every weed that has infested its way into my soul,
Festered away at my insides,
Corrupting all to the touch.

My realisation,
The need,
The time has finally come,
Long overdue.
To reach in,
Pull out.
To kill and leave out.
My feelings.
To let them starve,
Out in the cold wastelands.

To move ahead,
Unburdened,
Unhurt.
A choice I’ve made,
Given no choice,
Hurtful demons clouding and clawing my mind.
Hurtful people tearing all that is left.
Until.
All that is left to do,
Take out the feeling,
Leave and move on,
Recover.

To escape the cancerous grip.
To survive in my own world,
My mind, without their hurt to be my sea of existence.

All.
Through killing unwanted feelings.


Writing this thinking, had a conversation with a new friend on MoodTrack. Thinking of how I want to live my life, without continual pain, how someone can hurt, knowingly and yet continue just so they can benefit themselves.

Such an unusual concept, how can anyone do it to another?
With good friends beside me and an unwillingness to put uo with horrible people I’ll move on and kill all the feelings for all those who do not deserve any attention. I care about everyone, unfortunately, and will not anymore for those who cause nothing but pain, especially if it’s intentional hurtful pain.

Thinking back to before, deep in depression, and even into summer when it got better, it took a long time, and I don’t think I would have if it wasn’t for a totally random act of kindness from a then-stranger. The feeling even when meeting them, as it had been for months when I had gotten ‘better’ was of total unfeeling. Even thinking about feelings like their were alien to me, not even emotions-feeling. But every feeling, every mental occurence within my head that wasn’t “this is the next task on your list to do next today” and all was done totally without motivation.

She, maybe she really doesn’t see the pain caused, or the lies or how a moment she said really hurt her, one moment, she made me live again and again. When one can see pain done to them, and do the same to others willingly, knowingly. Well. Enough’s enough. No matter what. At least I’ve realised, there are some people out there not worth caring about.

Over summer, now, people are always bewildered to hear me say I don’t hate anyone, not from my past, bullies, I don’t care about, other grudges I’ve let go as it’s no use holding onto. This, is someone I hate. Someone I will remember that fact. Because sometimes you need a reminder of bad people. Often dressed up as good and kind ones.

Spent most of all the 21st thinking of this, at least passively while reading.

It’s time, this is enough. I’m sick of hurtful people tricking me. I have a terrible habit of believing the best in people when it’s not there. So far in my life, only one person I’ve had to just accept this is the case. I hope this happens few and far between.

Poem may be dark, I’m not sad as such, been mixed while writing this, but mostly, sad at what it’s come to, sad at how I’ve been hurt, angry at how people can cause pain. But content, I have tried all I can. Now I have to do what I’ve been encouraged to all along, what I’ve known I have to do, what I’ve wanted but also not wanted to do. Cut out the hurt, unneeded causes. Let go of all care, as it was never given anyway. Let go and erase from my mind. Only then can I fix what’s been done and go on happy.

Beauty In Your Own Way

Beauty in your own way,
Your own special way.
Unknowable by another.
A unique friendship,
Unique beauty,
Blissful, kind and caring.

Unique as your smile,
The kind words from your lips,
The gentle way you hold on.

The meaningful moments,
Pure bliss.

The unexpected moments,
Pure beauty found.

A moment easily lost.
A time easily missed.
Yet I found an unexpected beauty,
Like a pure unaltered sunrise,
The silent beauty of a sunset.
The colours of nature,
The gift of friends,
The laughter from those moments.

Beauty comes in all places,
If you know how to look,
If you be patient to see it,
If you’re careful to see,
At peace to know.

A beauty, in your own way.
Whether you see it or not.
It’s always there.
Waiting for you to just…
Open your eyes and see it.
In yourself.
In another- just don’t let it pass by unseen.
Before you lose it to time,
With a mere memory of what was there,
Finite. Missed.

Take a chance.
Take a look.
It’s there.

Don’t be the one to say, “I saw once”. “But let it slip”.
“I didn’t see… until it was gone.”

People miss what was before their eyes.
Don’t let this happen to you,
To anyone.

If they do not see,
They missed out.
You did not.

You saw the sunrise,
The stary night sky,
The universal bliss and wonder.
You see it once? You’ll see it again.
Because you chose to look.
Chose to see.

The beauty in your own way.

Wrote thinking about something a new friend on Moodtrack, Frilly_Moon and I chatted about.

Sorry for the late poem if you’re reading this, been busy and wanted a quiet moment to write this.

After writing this poem, I’d like to say thanks, for the message, the poem, quite therapeutic writing this, like most of my poems but different. Looking at the last. Finding rest, peace.

I’d like to say, in addition to yourself who inspired me to write this, I’d also like to dedicate this to a very recent friend, who showed me light, when, I gave up trying to see it. Even though, you’ll never see this.

The End Has Come. The World Goes On.

The end has come,

The finale, the finite experience.

The realisation.
A life I thought I had lost.
Now come to a close.

Given a glimpse.

The future.

To a change I didn’t want.
A change I have found.
Complete novelty.
Different.

The death of the old path I walked,
Kept alive, within my memories.
Fading fast.

A new path outstretched.
New, unfamiliar.

The world goes on.

The path behind me collapses.

A singular choice.
Now the end has come.
To step forth or fall.