For It All

For it all,
The beautiful song in the dark,
Light in the blackest of nights.

The life, left in the moment,
The poetry of time.
Life singing through all this time.

The speaking of the moment,
The life and the living,
Moments not yet spoken,
Moments in the balance,
Waiting, being.

Wanting to be better,
To show my colours shine.
To embody my world,
And make it all worthwhile.

The life to be lived and held.
A world in the making.

Always limited in the meaning,
The being,
Making of it all.

The delicate times,
Moments shared and made,
Thinking of it all,
The uncertain path ahead,
The hurt of the goodbye,
Hoping it is but for a time.

To bring, and make this time mine.

A time to shines.
To make it mine.

Writing this, thinking of my friend I’m meeting up with again, thinking about lots, the past another friend reminded me of. Lots to think of, the messages we send and make, the times we hung out. All amazing. Making me better, wanting to be better. Making me want to stretch and encompass the world.

Been talking also to my American friend, thinking, hoping that all I could do, could make them feel, even a little better. They truly deserve it. I can do nothing, but will do my all, give my all, and make it count.

Ode To The Lost

Ode to the lost,
In time the scars heal over,
Paths find their way,
Their end,
And their shine.

Oh how it feels,
Perfect in time,
To make it all perfect.

An ode to the lost in time,
To find a way, It’ll come.
Feeling a world’s stride away,
Until found at the end of the long path.

The beauty to be found,
In a simple smile,
Kind heart,
Small deed.

Of it all.
To be found in time.
To be found,
In self,
By another,
In a world so dark,
To turn it light.
To just find the light.
Until met.

Greeted with open hands and heart.
An ode to the lost.
In time to be found.
Only a step away.

For all the lost,
To find the beauty of the emergence.
The wondrous beauty of perfection,
To be found.
In that perfect feeling,
That perfect time.

For this time,
An ode to the lost in time.

Writing this feeling good, an amazing shift with amazing people in all my job. Making me love it throughout it all, still worried about the future but knowing I can make it work. Thinking of that amazing friend I’m seeing for a movie night and haven’t seen for ages and have missed. Thinking of my American friend how I really know you can make it past all the dark times to find that shine! Feeling the demons finally subsiding, as they have before. But feeling better, more closure and knowing I am me and no reason to apologise for that, haters gonna hate and all that haha. The demons subsiding. Allowing me to shine through.

Taken Aback

Taken aback,
A chance occurrence,
From nowhere, it finds me,
After I had given up,
It shows me,
Nothingness isn’t the state of the world as it is.
Nothingness is a state of loss,
Of a person harmed,

Ever-trying, never to let go,
To fight back the the dark embrace,
This is it.
This is the light.

Taken aback, after I lost myself,
Let go of the light,
Those times,
Occur, leaving me taken aback.
By the reality occurring.
By the time that happens.

Taken aback, as colour flows back into the world.
As warmth fills my gone-empty heart.

Oh how I’m taken aback,
From this state of emptiness,
Loss, of the world.
A loss, to the world.

But in such the briefest encounter,
Briefest words in such a temporary time,
I feel,
There is more.

There is a warmth,
That once again I can feel.

Off the Path

Off the path.

The light from afar,
In the spotlight of the present,
This path, unfurling before me,
Showing its light.

Lighting the periphery.
Showing the world.

Convincing the theatre of all,
As I want along this path,
Off this path.

Not knowing where I am,
Where I’ve been or come from,
Until I’m nearing the end of this path.

Off this path,
From a time,
To a time,
The journey’s gaze,
My own path,
Off the path.

Writing this, inspired  by an event, one which showed me convincing others of more than I thought capable of, a true path I have always wanted/want to follow, that I convinced  others that I’m already far down the path.

This realisation, can hit at a time, showing you’re on the path, but knocking you, conceptually, off the path. As you look back on it, where you stand, where you are. How you’re in a better circumstance along the path than I myself had thought. I have always wanted to become a lecturer of history, since the end of primary school. Convinced a panel of lecturers that I’m already a PhD student, on a topic I don’t know at all well. Even getting contacts and giving my details. Still feels unreal and undeserved as I really don’t know too much about the topic I was talking about, but apparently I convinced them of it. So that must count for something.

The Time I Try

To try,
To try through those little actions,
The reason to try,
Times I live.

To make a smile,
I do inside, beaming.
The time I try.
To give my all.
Those smallest of moments,
Of hope.

To be free.
To try my best.
To give my all,
For a smile.

To show kindness,
To be me.
All I can be.

Through those small moments,
Time and time again, I try.

To give my all,
All I can give.
My promise to you.
A promise to me.

Wrote this, a little happy-sad, feeling much better, pondering on this, and many other things…

I was feeling a little sad, then thought back to my ‘life’ so far, thinking of the past years and the situations I’ve been in. It’s a miracle that I’ve made it this far, from primary school, finding close friends, and always find close friends rather than superficial ones, always trying my best to be a kind person. Something I try to continue to this day. Kindness being the trait I truly value most, in myself, and others. There aren’t very many people I can point to for being totally unkind, everyone has their own point of shining, a point of knowledge, help, care, kindness. I mentioned in a previous post thinking I could compile a list of people and how they’ve helped me, I haven’t, but I guess, there always is a list, in my head, memories. Kindness, is something I remember best. I can think all the way back to a teacher in primary school, being kind when I was alone, didn’t think of it this way then, another, helping me through family issues, another being confident in my own work and encouraging me to. Now I think of it, I remember a lot more of the kind acts of people that I thought I did.

My situation studying the International Baccalaureate, total stress, but diligent work, throughout, against all odds, achieveing a grade I’m not totally happy with, but a near-perfect score is difficult to attain. With even the headteacher seeing me regularly at the time the school-building was closed and locked, and encouraging me to ‘work less’, something I’m still told today all too frequently by everyone I know. Haha, times change, but some things don’t.

At the start of university, making friends I don’t have an idea how I did, many good times, and bad, but helped to change me in so many ways. Financial difficulties with no government assistance and having to finance my degree mostly myself with tonnes of support from my family, (who have always believed in me, thinking back to my cousin (many years older than me) once asking me questions, philosophical, historical, political, cultural and many others, he said, “You were always the smart one in the family”, which I shrugged off, but was touching).

Throughout my degree, I worked hard, got a good grade (not as much as I wanted, but very good) somehow managed to finance it, despite, now looking at it, being in a situation stacked totally against me. Not even being able to afford my 2nd and 3rd years or my MA without my job, which I work hard to juggle around everything.

Even to now, trying to manage, juggling everything, not having had a day off from work in over 2 weeks, and not having a day off from Uni work in, well, the last time I remember is back in January. Trying to make everything work, work my hardest, still being totally kind to everyone I meet. Even one work colleague, saying it’s nice to see something good happen to such a nice person as it doesn’t happen often. With my lecturers seeing my effort today, joking, and pointing out the path I’m taking and giving me advice for achieving it.

Feeling much better.

Little Hope

This little hope,
A flame burning bright,
Flickering, yes, but ever-burning.

No matter the cold air rush,
The flame burns on, through,
A little hope.
A hope for what is to come,
A path to take,
A try at giving it all.

A little hope,
A show of faith,
A kindness shown,
To bring me back,
To help me find the path.
To find my path,
To show me to look,
To find what I seek,
What I hope.

This little hope,
A little hope,
An enjoyment to the trials,
Which I’ll overcome.

Looking back,
Those trials I have overcome,
The many,
Always fade to monotony,
But to remember,
What I have done.

Against all odds,
I’ve  given my all,
To claim what wasn’t in sight.
To grab what I could not achieve.
To achieve it.

A little hope,
My guide,
A path for my determination,
To aim my path.
Aim my drive.

This little hope.

Writing this, had a really rough start to today, a rough night last night. Feeling better, good seminars, learnt more, support from my teachers, joking with me, giving jokes and support for the path I want to take, feeling more hopeful. Feeling a lot better. And after this improvement in my day, a kind friend messaged me, nothing much, but wondering if I was free to meet up. I wasn’t, but this message, helped me to see more clearly, helped again, provide hope when I stopped bothering to look. When I gave up, a choice, but also not one.

Feeling a little hopeful.

Thanks to the kind friend, who without knowing anything was being done, has helped me tonnes. Thank you. Hope to see you soon!

Watching the Walk

Watching the walk,
Off into that distance,
Those times made so.

In place,
That time,
Into the snow as it falls.
Falling with those flakes full,
Watching that walk,

A shiver not in sight.
A white day,
The day light’s shine off the snow.

Watching that walk,
Through that snow,
Off into the distance.
Like the flow of time,
A flowing river,
Off into the distance,
The unknown,
The distance,
The time.

Watching that walk.

The Ask

The ask,
A simple thing,
Moment captured in the singularity of time,
A finite, moment.

The ask,
A time of the now and near.
A time for the taking,
The opportune,
Many things,
A compilation,
A mosaic of the existence.

The ask,
The time,
What a time?

The ask,
A message,
Much to come,
But also simple,
A simple complicated thing.
Waiting for the collapse,
From potentiality to actuality,
A collapse of the superposition.

To the making,
To the asking,
The ask.

Life – My Obsession with Rick and Morty

Life is sad, my question a few poems ago, is it better to be happy with a lie? Or sad with the truth. A point encapsulated with Rick and Morty.

Rick, the genius, or the God. Knows everything, can do everything and is the “most intelligent being in the universe”, and some may think this offers, happiness, power, fulfilment. It does not. Being able to do anything takes away any fulfillment in the endless universe where everything is ordinary. Happiness is gone, as he knows of his futile and meaningless existence. Yes he is powerful, he can do anything, however what is the meaning of this? When nothing matters in the end.

Another main character to mention is Jerry, the saddest character in the show, agreed by most fans to be stupid, pathetic, sad, good-hearted but useless and stupid. He is happy at the most mundane things, in one episode a very poorly-run simulation running at 3% power is enough to make his “life complete” and be the best thing that ever happened to him despite being clearly a simulation and not ‘reality’. He is happy, he lives happy, in ignorance, of everything.

Existential philosophers talk about existence, and existentialism, talking of universal meaningless and sadness that comes with it, but talk of ‘making your own meaning’, basically a lie to keep one comfort. Much like a factory-farmed chicken, keeps a hope for escape, even as its head is placed on the block.

An existential question, is there a way to ‘live in the truth’ which is something 7-year-old me promised to always do, but, how? When life is split into a dichotomy of truth with complete sadness or a false lie.

Feeling of Being

Feeling of being,
Trapped, yet also free.
A mind always raging,
In hundreds of places and times,

The body stuck in place,
Lacking arms to feel,
Legs to move,
Voice to speak.
Existence, limited to eyes to see, but never speak.
Existence, limited to a brain to think, think, always to think.
Possibility left to inactuality,
A reality not able to cope. So limited.

Feelings pass, pondering changes, shifts.
Never stops.
From place to place, phases of the moon.
The constriction never does,
Getting used to the constriction, to calm the mind,
To incapacitate the mind from it’s ponderings.
A process of life,
Of living.
Of thinking, while living.

The feeling of being,
Being with feeling.

This may sound like a sad poem, not at all, thinking about Asbergers. It’s seen as a lesser Autism, and in some ways I totally agree, it’s less visible. But also that can be a problem. Like a person without legs, arms, voice, hearing. One able to only see, think and limited to the confines of the mind. A reality never able to live up to the endless possibility.

Talking reduced to a, self-confining, to be a sense of ‘normality’ or otherwise a closing off. A closing off, because, everything else, just isn’t enough. Yet other times it is. It’s, as with everything difficult to say.

Probably the easiest way I can describe, most people can relate to busy, excited times where so many thoughts are running through your head, you start one, and another and another on to 10+ ideas, but finish none. You’re mouth cannot keep up, like doing 4 projects at the same time, bouncing off one to another, each feeding into the others.

Instead of this being a project or a time, or a short burst of speed-working.
Imagine, this all the time. From working in the library, bagging groceries, cooking rice at home, playing video games, watching videos or films, at work. Almost doing everything apart from sleep (and that is only because I am not conscious when I sleep, when lucid dreaming it’s also like the aforementioned).

It’s difficult. It’s not ‘hard-work’ always working. It’s just, my head. Things popping into, being reconfigured and re-perceived.