Thinking about the view(s)

I’ve been wondering lately why it is that in this time, almost everything can be related to views. We see the world through a lens of pixels and screens, and if we aren’t being seen, we are seeing others who are. I have caught myself refreshing my stats for the day on this blog, constantly hoping someone will recognize me sitting here, all over the place, with no obvious direction, and make sure I’m seen… I’m hoping for someone else to come in and whisk me away to a place where things make sense, I find success, and everything is just a-ok because I have views and that’s all that I need right? Well I’m quite obviously wrong…. The truth really is that this blog has very little direction. It’s where I take all my interests to a screen and hope that someone else sees where I can succeed and carries me along a path that I can’t even see myself.

Alas, the world is not so simple, even with all the technology we have at our fingertips.

Alas, I am still figuring life out, seemingly at a snails pace, I’m trying to figure myself out too. Where I fit, who I can be, what I can be, and most importantly, how I can make a living in this cutthroat place.

I have dreams, and dreams require funds, and funds are only made through… well a job. I have been working again part-time during this age of Corona virus, I have been making my keep, but I strive for a passionate interest that can mean both success and a life I love. I have so many things to be grateful for, and I don’t want to take all the things that I do have for granted. I’m simply wondering, and contemplating the struggle that is finding what it is that will bring me sustenance as well as happiness.

Have any of you found a true passion in your work? What do you do? How did you find your happiness in life?

Thanks for listening to this random rant about life, what else is a young adult to do besides share their idealistic fantasies?

Immediate Needs

Things should be clean,

But unseen

Construction of a military sheen

Whether it’s right or wrong

we have needs

Our questions must be answered

is truth important

or is comfort more so

Hold our hand

Tell us it’s going to be alright

Your control lingers nearly out of sight

barricading us from our own fright

You know what’s best

and we just won’t understand

there’s no need to test

because the ego of the few outlives the rest.

Echo by Woodsy the Performance Poet

John is able to elicit emotion through words more eloquently than anyone I’ve ever known. I’ve found his words sometimes haunting, sometimes consoling, hopeful, and dark. The contradiction shadowed only by the truth of it. There are moments of triumph, moments of defeat, and most importantly millions of little moments in between, that can only be captured by a true poet. Someone who feels completely, and knows that words can become a gateway to human connection.

I thought I would share here, one of his pieces, accompanied by a few of my own works, I hope you’ll consider reading some of his other beautiful poems at https://woodsydotblog.wordpress.com

I saw your face this morning –

something I needed,

outside of it all.


I reached out,

years too late to feel your skin,

and felt the echoes of your spirit.


These days,

it is the shadows

and empty spaces

that push me forward –

not quite

a ride or a dance or a dream…

just the last little ticks of nightmare…


falling away.


But here you are,

nestled in blue…


in the surf and the sky

and the morning…

and all of those things I can’t do.

 
Here you are,

filling

this crater of heartbeats

with the echo of yesterday’s screams:


“I’m getting better!”


The one damn thing you needed.

The one thing I did, too.


So did the world that forgot you were there…


showing it something,

everywhere.  


Sometimes, I’m lost here,

just like you,

slicing the world

with a hot steel blade:


“I’m getting better!”


(from this, from them, from you)


Trying

to shove a kinder,

less merciless truth

into indifferent ears:


“I’m getting better!”


(from this, from them, from stuff you say… stuff you do)


The only scream

I have left –

and sometimes,

the only scream nobody hears anymore.


A ghost scream,

throwing out my numbers and my codes,


filling

the crater of my heart

with precious bursts of echo,


like that smile:


always the gentlest

of explosions,

your smiles.


Starbursts

in the bear pit…

tiny factories of bonfire,

sat on the edge by darkness

and

blossoming

somewhere between…


I saw you sadder than before.

You saw me deeper in there too.


You hold some part of me

that’s still far better in your hands,

haunting

all those happy endings

that came scavenging

in your wake.


The truth is,

I’m more at home in darkness now,

whittling your echoes into kindling

and lighting our bonfires

with their own kind of peace…


riding out your faces and your loves


and showing the world

and the lights out of town


just what they say about me.

Expecting Change

Is it naive to expect a life-altering change when you don’t have a plan?

I guess it seems to me that life throws things at you when you least expect it, right? I never usually give myself the time necessary, I never wait. Now, in this uncertain place, I have been taking the time.

It feels as though nothing is coming my way. I wonder if it has something to do with manifesting ideas into action, and neglecting to pursue the ‘safe option’. I understand that hard-work is mandatory in our lives, in succeeding, but, I find myself working hard on potentially all of the wrong things. There are some positives to take away from this time off, and to be honest, my mental health has been going pretty well. I have been more creative, more hopeful. On the other side of that though, I have been more unsure, and confused.

What should I expect from what I am pursuing?

It’s obvious I’ve been pursuing more creative fields, I’ve been working on a lot of things I enjoy. Coming around to the fact, the things I enjoy don’t bring me sustainability. I absolutely hate that money is what keeps the world turning. I hate that status = money, and money = power. I have no desire to increase my value monetarily, but unfortunately we are all forced to pursue it. I have long-term goals, things that require the proper funds. I want to travel, I want to buy land and start an animal sanctuary some day, I want to learn to build sustainable housing, etc.

Asking the proper questions is difficult, albeit impossible, due to the sheer volume of necessary questions. There is no possible way to ask them all at once.

Right now I have a few at the forefront of my mind. One of them being, what is most important? Is my mental health more important than making a steady paycheck? If so, how am I going to reach my long-term goals? I think these questions are probably going through everyone’s mind at certain points of their life. I think everyone has good reason to ask these questions regularly, but what about the answers? I’m not sure we are meant to get them, rather than, embrace the question itself?

Reflecting on the past

While I agree that it doesn’t help to dwell on the past, I’ve found that looking through old journals really helps with developing new ideas, and understanding how you’ve felt in the past. I took the time today to go through some old notebooks and find some entries that elicited emotion. Below, I’ll share from a journal I kept through the summer of 2019, so over a year ago, in the hopes that it will give some insight into my current journey.

When will I grow up, and stop living in daydreams and idle fantasies.

Stubbornly feigning indifference, while bearing the weight of worlds.

These were placed on the inside cover of my notebook along with a poem I chose not to share. I have learned through these passages, I have come to recognize pieces of myself, pieces that I still struggle with, but in some ways have come to love. I dream. I question. I feel deeply.

Wander exceptionally far away from what you know, only there will you find yourself.

This one is still relevant to me today. All of my goals lead to a time where I am able to wander. A time, that will give me the freedom to experience, to learn, and to find myself.

Note to Self:

In order to find _______ .

Adventure is inherently important. Nothing else matters. Finding magic means taking the necessary leap.

Be free, create the world you dream of.

Make your ideal reality.

Here I am, over a year ago, searching, yet not knowing what it is I’m looking for. My mind during this time was similar to what it is now, I still yearn for a sense of freedom that I haven’t found. However, I have come to understand the importance of so many other things. I have come to understand the importance of connection, of family, and of being vulnerable enough to let people in.

Small City

Heightened awareness of status in a bourgeois sense.

Finally finished with college degrees, shopping for polos and pleated skirts.

Waiting eagerly for the chance to wear them to new jobs, holding themselves in a higher esteem than they truly should.

False confidence emitted in hazardous waves.

Unappreciated and well despised by those who walk the streets in rags, by those who have seen cruelty and misfortune in this little city.

Now, this piece holds some true anger. I remember the day I wrote this, I was at a stoplight in the city that I was working in. I was watching people walk by, holding their shopping bags from ritzy stores. At this same crosswalk I saw others walking by, dirty and tired, carrying everything they owned on their backs. It was a long day at work, and I had befriended some of the people that were carrying everything they owned on their backs. I felt for them, for their misfortune, and most of all for how misunderstood they are. I still think that everyone who has the privilege of new things, a hot meal, and a place to sleep, should take the time to get to know, and potentially help, someone less fortunate. However, I no longer feel that I can immediately condemn or judge those who do have more.

Nothing feels familiar, and everything is out of place. Lost in a cascade of emotions, never seeming to make sense. It has taken a long while to understand, and here you are, still looking at some unknown land, with a language that eludes you. It was once your vernacular, and yet, it is foreign.

This passage to me, was all of my feelings of disconnect, of uncertainty. Wondering where to turn, who would listen, who would care. This is still something I struggle with, connection for some reason feels so important, yet so scarce.

I guess this blog is an embodiment of my yearning for similarities in such a vast world. This is a place for me to be me, completely honest and open, forgetting all of the time I spent burying my thoughts. It’s also about gaining the confidence to share passages like these. I hope, if you’ve taken the time to read these, that you can gain something too.

One Little Room

Where all life’s experience exists

Every true genuine feeling is felt 

In one little room

 

To say whether it’s negative or positive 

Is not up to me 

 

Clearly I’ve lost you 

But then again you aren’t here

And whether or not that’s important

I don’t know

 

Maybe somehow I enjoy this space

The excuse for isolation 

Somehow consoling 

 

Here there is no pressure

Everyone is shut away 

Perfect

 

Until somehow it isn’t 

Being with yourself too long is somehow

worse?

 

Not every moment is terrible

Being alone is not always, lonely

Sometimes it’s just thinking

Feeling and Being too 

 

There is a melancholic comfort 

In being alone

No Pressure

no need to convey my thinking 

 

But then there’s ‘you’

Forcing me to acknowledge my discomfort, and discontent

Noticing my craving for connection

Wanting to escape this little room

 

You’ll show me how, won’t you?

Focused

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tap. 

Rushing around in a world flowing by. Yet never really moving.

Contradiction and chaos, finding where the next ‘thing’ may land. 

Wondering if it will ever fall.

If it does, will it plummet to the earth like a meteor finding our atmosphere? 

Will the momentum be strong and fast, hurdling life into a new unknown? 

Or is this thing, this experience, this life, moving all alone?

No force, no gravity.

Just floating around, hovering about, waiting to be recognized and seen.

Hoping to be pulled down and guided through.

The Shoe Box apartment complex

The world is seen through a hole in a shoebox.
All of these little fully functional, all included shoe boxes, with an oven that is guaranteed to have cooked meth at one point, and is certainly through on its’ warranty. A bathtub designed to fill up with black sludge when it decides to rain. Lights that flicker and outlets that don’t work. 

Let’s not forget the constant movement of all of the other shoebox villagers so close and near to your home, invading privacy with no intent to do so. All the noise and chatter heard at all hours not like a symphony but like the script for a play about gang violence and income inequality. This is what I know, it’s something I’m used to. Yet, I still feel as uncomfortable in my own home as I always have. This isn’t home, it’s not where my heart is. It’s just another little stack of lives, and families, and human beings all crunched together and trying to live the life that they feel they deserve. 

And how the world is full of these shoebox complexes, some are shinier I’m sure, and some are far more tattered but yet they all seem to me to be the same. I’m cramped and claustrophobic and I long for a place much more my own. A place to feel safe, to feel connected to my own version of the world, a place to think and feel and breath without the buzzing of this little human ecosystem all around me.