My childhood will end the day I don’t look up at the sky at the aeroplane passing

Stupid Man

I am a stupid man. Over the years I’ve made stupid mistakes, done stupid things, have said stupid things, made stupid jokes, and made stupid posts.

The best of times that I’ve been stupid are the ones where nobody ends up hurt. Everybody has a giggle about it, some red cheecks may appear, a good story may be born and that’s the end of it. Just another bump in the road called life.

The second best ones are the ones where only I end up getting hurt. By now I’ve learned to deal with my own stupity and it bothers me not nearly as much as it used to, although it’s not as little as I’d like. I feel my stupidity quite intensly although briefly and then move on with a mantra in my head promising myself to do better next time.

The worst ones are where others end up getting hurt. Where my stupity exceeds the edges of the bucket it is in. Everybody has stupidity in them. Everybody keeps it in a proverbial bucket. Some have very little stupidity and medium bucket meaning they’ll occasionally do a small stupid. Others have a small bucket which is almost full to the edge. They’re careful to prevent spilling and causing problems for others. And some, very rarely, have an almost empty bucket. Then there are folks with bucket full of it but they don’t care where they spill and who they spill it on.

I’m in awe of those last folks. Not caring (or at least seeming to care) that they’re being stupid. Almost like any form of inhibition has not be mixed in their DNA. I’m also in fear of those folks as they do not care who gets caught of the cross-fire of their stupidity.

Based on my recent stupid spill, I’m glad to realize I’m not one of those folks. Does not make the pain and regret I feel for the mental stress my stupid has caused any less but it provides some silver lining. As long as that regret is there when my stupid hurts others, I’d like to believe I’ll be a decent feller through life.

As a Stupid Man who recently did a stupid thing and is currently writing about it in this stupid blog, I’m on the one hand filled with regret, sadness, and a sliver of hope for forgiveness, and on the other hand I’m kind of glad I can feel that range of emotions and my ship still sails on the stormy oceans of the soul.

It’s times like these that poetry truly is capable of describing the full range of the human condition. Neil Hilborn’s Don’t give up the Ship comes to mind:

When the winds are picking up, when

the sea around you turns from blue to grey

when the sky grows veins of light

before you, let your arms become sails.

Keep the lighthouse at your back.

evening chai

and a quiet breeze

touching my skin saying pretty please

don’t let this memory die

I open the window wide

listen to the melody and let it whelm

close my eyes to escape this realm

to the time you were right beside

your eyes bore into mine

as we listened to the melody then

a lot unspoken

just our usual pastime

The eyes in my memory

linger

The eyes I find in the mirror

blurry

few years too late

I swallow regret one sip at a time

now closer to bedtime

someone please hit the slate.

DON’T EVEN BEGIN !

Pacing circles, chasing time.

Staring at clocks for some kind of sign.

A breath of relief, a glimpse of good times,

Rewinding like a cassette, stuck on rewind.

But what about the nights you can’t write?

When the pen trembles in your hand

How do you unfold what you don’t understand?

When the ink runs dry on sleepless nights,

How do you rhyme what never feels right?

What of the nights that silence claims,

Where even hope forgets your name.

And tragedy, no longer a thief,

Stands beside you, whispering ‘I believe.’

What do you do when grief no longer hides.

When it sits beside you, gentle and kind?

When even hope forgets how to knock,

And you’re locked out of your own design.

Then she came along, a spark, a phase!

She was kind. She was kind.

The kind that quiets the noise in your head.

No need to confess, no fear of sin,

Her presence felt like peace within.

But the mind—oh, the mind,

It plays its own wicked games.

And questions come without their names.

Is her warmth a mask you didn’t see?

Is she shelter—or is she debris?

Will she leave you hollow, like time always does—

With echoes of maybe, or silence, or just because?

How can you be sure

When doubt is stitched into your skin?

“Don’t think. Don’t think.

Don’t even begin! “

A Free Verse By G

Lost

Let’s try to rediscover tonight

All that I was in light,

Before I stumbled upon a regret

That became life.

Let’s try to find,

All the pieces of me that chipped away

By the decisions I made to survive.

Let’s try to see,

If there still somewhere inside me exist

The girl that I once was, in the women that I am now.

Let’s just please try to rediscover tonight,

Before it’s too late, too late, too late

And in the end,

Nothing of the past me

In me resides.

—Siona Valentine

Something’s never meant to be found—we found peace.

The true friend that betrays, tha true enemy that’s trustworthy.

Whether or Not

It’s so hard to know whether or not you trust me, it’s so hard to hard to know whether or not I hate you. You are me and I am you. A mirror, a paradox.

Stop being me so I can live. The chains holding me down grow stronger but rust at the same time. An uphill battle it’s been, a battle I’m tired of fighting I don’t know when this war will end.

Fight. Fight. Fight. My blood is spilled, is yours red like mine? I’m tired of seeing red, do you see black? That’s it your blind. Transfixed on your own ideals and mind, that’s it, the you that is me is just as scared as I am.

Shatter. Shatter away mirror. My knuckles that break you are bleeding but the shards of glass reflecting your fading presence are dulling. My blood runs red and now the paradox is done. That’s what’s separates you and I, me. I am red and will run, fade into black, me.

failure.

Why is it so hard for me?
I don’t get it.
No matter how often I try to be happy; things fail.
i fail.

sitting here and not knowing what my life will look like, is scaring me to death. Afraid of being nothing.

Not knowing how it feels like to be loved genuinely.
Not knowing how it will be without you.

You came at the perfect time but left me at the worst.
I know I scared you, because I am a lot of work.
But wasn’t i worth it?
I thought we were soul bonded.

Again alone.

The breeze in time became cold and my frozen fingertips started taking a toll on me. This might be the last chance. This might be the final excuse I could get. To slowly walk not knowing whether there could be even a negligent chance of you running towards the shadow of the Oak tree. 

Although the trail was familiar, for I have taken that so many times only to find myself back in that place. In that very place, under the shadow, holding a bouquet of withering paper flowers.

This time I close my eyes tight, march in that same trail and let myself be engulfed by the darkness.

Like that one flower in the garden looking up at the sky to feel jealous of the fireworks, for the fireworks are colourful, flying up in the sky and bringing joy.

From the window of my house, I see the blue and the ocean. I see no melancholy. Indeed, a sunny day of my entire life. I let myself out there under the Sun, hands wide open and wonder if that bird up above feels the same.

-Vaishdas

Y sigo escribiendo sobre ti con la esperanza de que me ayude a enterrar mis sentimientos o que no me haga sentir nada por ti, sin embargo, cada vez que veo tu nombre en mi pantalla, no puedo evitar desenterrar esos sentimientos.

Simple Words

For quite a bit of time, I’ve been pondering a couple of simple words: “I don’t know”. A simple act of stating that one’s knowledge is not sufficient in this matter. It appears a relatively harmless acknowledgement but provides much more.

Stating you don’t know shows that your education, experience, and instinct have come up empty-handed. It may be a simple matter. Could be now knowing whether it’ll rain today or why the bus may be late. However, in other scenarios stating you don’t know make the situation much more grave.

In my recent years as a professional enigneer I’ve not made any apologies for not knowing, understanding, or grasping the full situation. This has lead in some cases to strained situations, a fair share of apprehensive looks but also to enthousiastic explanations and being taught with passion. With others I don’t tend to make the assumption that they know everything given that I’ve walked in their shows several times. The scope of the magnificent field I’m active in is so vast, so complex, and so varied that it’s impossible for a single person to be aware of all of it, let alone understand it.

However, despite not minding all that much acknowledging that I don’t know everything, I’ve encounterd it elsewhere too. Generally in situations which concern social matters I sometimes draw a blank, not knowing what to say, how to act, or what to avoid. Somewhere, somehow along my life’s path I’ve seem to become convinced that with my age this kind of ‘knowhow’ would’ve become apparent. It has always appeared that others know the right words to say in the situations I’ve experienced but they never appear in my mind.

So, to address such a matter I’ve become resolved to learn it. To learn and attempt to grow some intuition as to what I want to say in such situation and to say it well enough to satisfy my own expectation. I’m long enough in the tooth to know that this won’t happen with in a week, month, or maybe even year but consistent effort will make the difference.

Given that the only things we come 'pre-installed’ with are crying, pooping, and breathing, then anything can be learned. Not a single person that exists as of now were born with the skills and experiences they showcase today. Would there be any reason that I couldn’t do it if they can?

I don’t know. Let’s find out.

The days are better without circumstances.

another thing i dislike

‘when you paw at him, begging for more’ PAW? EXCUSE ME? am i a dog?

pls stop using this word i hate it sm. it has the same feeling it gives you like the word “moist”

I miss him. It’s too little of a definition to how I feel towards him.

I yearn for him, hoping he’s doing the same.

I pray for him, for us, for love to gather us again in the right place and time.

Amen.

—aphrodite 💜❤️

The aching sadness in my chest never fucking go away.

People will empathize characters they see on screen, in movies and tv show. But they forget to empathize people who are in front of them, real humans who display real emotions and deteriorating mental health signs. Amazing, isn’t it?

To my journey that starts with you but the end unknown

I shattered in middle, at the door smeared with silence

And you, the only thing I was sure of,

Now seems so unsure and I still stand there.

Your silence, my silence, never similar

Yours in denial and mine too in denial of yours.