moving through the process

The accomplishment deserves recognition, but there is a difference in completion and a job well done. But for the situation, I can breathe easier. I have brought the material to a place where I am now able to see it play out in its entirety. It is not perfect, and never will be, but at least for now I can gaze upon its structure and see what needs improvement. I must let myself feel good about it. This is the first of many steps, and by all accounts the most difficult. The stone has been selected, dragged out, measured, planned and roughly hewn. After a few breaths, I can come back and begin detailing.

Delayed by She.

Happily in the sense am I diverted, but paying the price so high, it now becomes a test of focus. To see the distance and imagine the other side. What emotions lie beyond? For a time the world flipped over and reality felt consumed by that cheek-pinching happiness. That other time where relative sense knows no boundary. But here I stand unable to press the issue and faced with that which remains to transpire. It now truly comes to the final lap, and I've always wanted someone to shine for.

Spiral out

Lightning finds the least resistant path among the highway of my veins. Such a perilous adventure, do no let the ease fool you into a false sense of security. For even if the way is clear, it is fraught with distractions and charged electricity which strikes down without notice; blue arcs of energy cracking across the sky. But these charges crack like blue-tongued whips and drive me towards the culling. The end game where sighs are breathed and eyes are closed in relief. The hike may be ending soon, but it has only been a practice run. The true tests come in the future when we tackle the course again, this time for speed, another time for accuracy, until we know the twists and turns by heart, and each step in the dance flows freely from our subconscious mind.

breathing relief

Familiarity seeps from within its paradoxical attenuation. That feeling of comfort overwhelms me, and I find myself at ease in something wholly new. It's nice when things come easy, when the less you try the more you gain. And to experience this all with a sense of calm acceptance is to understand that time is relative. Something meant to be will always be, so focus on the obstacles and work to overcome them. Happiness will never demand attention.

rhyme time

Meld into a liquid from the solid state of mine, the ease of predilection falls faintly out of time. When one wears out a welcome and gets cast aside like clay, it's often found that no one knows the replacement on the way. And so with trappings kept so safe, with couriers afoot, the madness whips itself into a frenzy so out-put.

braking.

At a loss I spin my wheels in hopes of gaining traction in which ever direction grips first. I have not the luxury of being choosy. I've wasted time, burned it as if it were a lamp, and now it's grown so hot that it may shatter or explode. Both, if I'm lucky. For such violence would at least be something emotional. Something passionate to course through my creative consciousness. I've been dulled by repetition, ground down by routine, and if the monotony remains unbroken, then I myself might break.

circling the drain

Spinning in the undertow, long past the point of no return, I've come to understand that this frantic end is nothing more than a lead up to an exciting new beginning. Rather than resist and try to swim against this ever-increasing current, I must let go and use the energy of the spin to generate momentum that will take me through to the other side.

A trek through realization

Wandering around memories of years past, walking as I am with who I was, I stop and consider my surroundings. I must be thankful for all that has come to pass to bring me to this present moment, but a quick evaluation shows that I now belong to a different place. While it's possible to live in the past, tempting even, it's debilitating. The love I have for those loyal, who've gone through the trials alongside me is deep, however the space between us has grown to such a distance that I feel out of place among some of my closest friends. I am no better than they, simply I have moved to a different place in my life, I want different experiences. They will be my friends forever, but as I look in the direction of my future they become harder and harder to see. I will watch them on their path, and they me, but I won't be able to reach out to them, not without backtracking every step I've made.

derby days

Sleeping to recharge expenditure of the preceding days. There is an obvious importance to rest. And though writing is not necessarily physical, it's still possible to overwork the medium. The horse that wins often breaks late, and in this final turn an extra breath just might be the difference between having strength for the final lap and riding that horse into the ground.

erosion of facsimile

Style, that amorphous and fiery intangible, such a miscreant in action. Damning the river with conformist mud, you are two-faced: genuine at inception, and imitation at adoption. Perhaps your rooting in identity compels our differentiation. However, it is that attraction to the unique and beautiful that powers the gravity of homogeny. Perhaps there is no solution to your paradox other than to express and then adapt. Be oneself and then move on when the edge has dulled.

It's-a-lie -v.

This engine of imagination, driven by everything that's come before it, rolls on in plagiaristic perpetuity. Only by following the guidelines can we know when and where to stray. Imitation may be flattering, but it also knows success, so long as one realizes the importance of masking the thievery. Perhaps it's as simple as sewing together so many scraps that as a whole it becomes altogether unrecognizable, and when experienced will elicit fond memories associated with each piece.

I am Dr. Frankenstein, and this is my latest monster. My piecemeal creation, my patchwork abomination. I can only hope he's met by kinder villagers.

Water-logged

The ease of letting things be settles around me in a cooling mist of reassurance. I am calm in the face of pressure, and resolute in the understanding that all ends will be met. Buoyancy grows easier the less you try to float. So to recognize that time is the river in which we swim is one thing, but it is another more important note to understand that we must not resist the direction it takes us, for it will ultimately get us there.

horizon line

Nonchalance is deviance in the glow of impending finality. There is something to be said for exhibiting calm in the face of pressure, but this level of passivity will not bear fruit. Too much must be done for procrastination to exist. Motivation must be cultivated, encouraged and developed, then used to forge ahead. There is time for all things, however, it is he who rises to the challenge that receives first glance. And in a world where timing and luck are crucial, it is imperative to be ready. Cast off doubt and frolic in the process of creation.

my grain.

partially paralyzed, plaguing pain presently prevents proactive personal performance.

Vicarious

The desire to live another's life sparks inside my mind in an electric cloud of altruistic selfishness. Imagining just how green the grass would be coalesces and precipitates in a heavily laden voyeurism. What appears as fresh perspective rolls across the expanse of my consciousness and blots out the sun of self. It's an easy storm to hide within, its moisture warm and comforting, but it lacks reality and the flaws of truth. Mistaking imagination for compassion only leads to a loss of self, and I realize that above all weather, the sun forever shines.

No rest for the wicked.

Tired legs, and forced to stand far longer than I'd rather, I continue on the path. Ultimately, ironically, the only way to ease the strain is to prolong the stress. Muscles build by breaking down, and habits are formed no differently as the prior path gives way to the new. Development is pain, and like tempered steel I must face a thousand degrees of flame to burn away the weakness and forge my brand. You learn by doing, so I must do. And though there are infinite stairs, each one I climb prepares me for the next.

Cleaning House

Sifting through the detritus of my mind looking for a morsel, I scour the expanse of all I've ever been. perhaps there is a clue that will lead me to a new sensation. One unfelt before, or at least in ages. Possibilities are everywhere, and if given chances, they can become these wanted feelings. This isolation has grown old, and the comfort I once took in my ability to exist alone has has deteriorated into a bitter aftertaste. I just want to smile. I don't think that is too much to ask for. When time strips everything else away, it's the enjoyment of another's company that ultimately remains.

punish(me)nt

An upset tremor buzzes through fingers while an acrid stomach churns the consequence of an imbibed regret. This neurosis has to stop. Half-hearted commitments to change are fully destined to fail.

building/up

The exit of mythology leaves a vacancy; a pressurized system full of nothing. However, the brick and mortar brother lays rows of concentration underneath that absence, letting concrete truth serve as foundation to the infinity of next. Holes are made to be filled, and oftentimes falling down can be the happiest of accidents. Build support where there is none, let the riot run, the cement soon will harden in the illuminating sun.

un(full)filled.

Frustration and despondence slip into subconscious thought, filling the dreamscape with a haze. inexplicable feelings rise up, clamoring to be unheard of. irrational understanding. And it is at the mercy of this unexplainable fog that I find myself, broken but for no other reason than to finally fall apart.

I ha(d) a dream

A wounded night limps through to daybreak and bleeds across the morning sky. The interrupted narrative still plays on repeat, a fractured and twisted tale as engaging as it is non-sensical. And therein lies the appeal. While some close their eyes in exhaustion, others close them to escape, to live within a construct just as real, but more fluid and open. And yet, it's as if upon waking, illumination relegates this other experience to shadow, and it hides, ultimately disappearing, unable to breathe in the vacuum of conscious thought.

drain bed

The arbitrary awakening opens its eyes again and sees meaning within the random. Assigning feelings like so many backhanded compliments, worth inflates in the presence of hollow grandiosity. Living a straw man's life and existing without substance, it's inevitable to ponder the meaning of it all when the majority of action takes places on paths which have no joy.