silent cartographer

These empty halls are furrowed

with distances growing,

shrinking,

in between,

as the blood of gears permeates the air

like water does for the fish. Invisible.

Unrecognizable.

Ubiquitous in its gentle reprisal as per the truncheon of the boot

stomping on the face of humanity in lieu of the conversation.

The witness becomes ghost to the

observer

and to the self. there are no other others

for the hunger has eaten them

swallowed

them

whole.

Although no waste or excrement will be found in the end service.

Not even the taste buds recognize the flavor.

Voices become ever more laconic, whispering,

capturing hypnotic.

And the head lolls with its Heavy:

a bob on the shoulders of a turbid understanding; even with sights

in sight

and acknowledging that the tree is inside of another tree

and that the perplexity is of an infinity.

Crumbled dust now collects as sediment,

the mixture for a path that paves the way a top

ancient burial grounds and recent

bones decayed.

We use our own.

Ourselves.

For our own.

Ourselves.

I am this convulsion of convoluted.

Deluded.

Dancing

to the the music that none other can hear.

And with every sway of my body

more brittle sinew and fractured skin falls away.

I am losing. A frail limb nursery.

This I know,

but I will not stop dancing for the life of me.

Let me be the muse.

The flickering filament, fragile, non-ethereal, a locus point

for the momentary

transit. Nothing. Gone.

And soon forgotten.

You will walk on me.

Low’s the whir

the feel

the make

which passes through this earth-born gate

that births down low by carving grounds

leaving nothing but faintly sounds.

A man of figure, figures man

and fiddles into the breach;

he treks the trench

: vibrations stirring

as his presence is imprinted hence.

the whirs’ a whirl

stumbling.

hand and paw

nail in claw

skin now fur

the walk is crawling

talks to howls that keep on mocking

dismissive of the self

giving in

standing in the doorway.

what voice of reason, whispers now

the thoughts are clicking

 - 

treason 

-

just as hoofs do against the blended rock

thrashing

lesions.

within the eyes the look does fade

fractured.

faltering like candle light.

a kaleidoscope of musings

clashing

bruising 

-

oh, here comes the scratching.

-

what’s left is cloistered

deep within (in secret).

but vitality drips from the finger tips

it splatters

adding to the hue of stone

after all, this is the elephant of graveyards.

and he is it, and it is here. 

-

My oh my, I seem to have lost my nails. 

Echoing (e)motions
An abundance of static

held

in

place

With a blur in movement rivaled only by that familial stinging sight.
Form over function
Clamoring
to stay
In
The sun.
Reticent reticules: -
etch together part-in-parceled parts,
 : - Silent cartographers.
An image in the wall;
A whole to the image:
Comprehending lines on faces
like constellation bridges.
But the dissipate of absenced color
Brings forth a fuller light,
Which as much as it illuminates
Robs away a truer sight.

Just some rantings, but you may want to have a read through:

I have not had the good fortune of expressing my pensiveness for what I imagine to be quite some time now, but that spell of silence is breaking tonight. I have the pleasure of knowing a great deal of the people whom I follow, and whom follow me on tumblr on a personal, physical, face-to-face interactive basis, which is fantastic and something that I am truly grateful for in my life.

As much as I find and tread upon the darker waters of this world I am always inevitably drawn back to the light: a phenonmenon I take it that many of us experience from time-to-time despite our tendencies or preferences for one side or the other, or the variety in between the two sides of the spectrum (and who knows, perhaps the spectrum is even greater than I make it out to be, undefinable, unknowable, so multifaceted that we can not even begin to comprehend its entirety, much like life I would take it).

This goes with saying that a great deal more of you whom I follow, or whom follow me are otherwise unknown to me in the tangible sense, as is even more so the case for all those persons whom I do not follow and who do not follow me, yet who’s responses I read on chain-posts and discussions.

These are important distinctions to make and understand for what is to follow, me thinks, and what follows is this: in spite of the harshness of our reality I am constantly inspired by the people of this website (granted that there exists a hefty population of individuals who do ruin the experience from time to time with their overzealous or uneducated remarks and their nonsensical vulgarity, all of whom I would rather remain a screen’s length away from).

What we have here is a digital society (I would go as far as to deem it a culture) that often times surpasses boundaries of time, space, language, creed, race, and beliefs. Where artists come together to show one another what each themselves is working on. All of us have trekked disparingly different walks of life, and continue to do so, but still we persist.

There is something good to have come of post-modernity and the de-centralization that the internet provides us with and the power it provides us, for as much as it is easy for some bloke to upload false information, it is just as quick to have someone correct the mistake, whether intentional or not, so that the rest may be aware of something more than just themselves and the world they inhabit.

I may not know all of you, nor you me, but I feel a kinness to each and every one of you, to your humanity, because at the end of the day we all come home to the same forms of emotions of fear and doubt and joy and love and hatred: yes we may be flawed, and rightfully so, but still we persist to do something greater, something better. Those of you reading who pursue this avenue of self-improvement and the improvement of the community know who you are, and those that are still deficient in one or both of these areas, know that you are not alone in your struggle to be human; know that you are not ever as alone as you may think, braver than you make yourself out to be, smarter than you think, more loving and lovable than you make yourself out to believe, and that at any time you can begin to process to change your life and those around you for the better.

As an individual with clinical depression, depersonalization, and a severe panic disorder, as a person who has endured the adversities of life, as a fellow human being not so entirely different from yourself, I am perfectly aware of the difficulties stacked against our favor, whether physical, mental, spiritual, or emotional, but this does not deter me, nor should it you. What is more, is that I am plenty aware of the fact that my life compared to the life of others is a walk in the park, as is the life of others compared to mine. And while no life and person are ever fully the same, there is a sameness to us that I do not believe we can deny exists.

Therefore, reach out and truly see what is around you. See your lovers and your friends and your enemies and yourself. Acknowledge and understand. Seek compassion and spread love and peace, kindness and forgiveness, for these are some of the most important lessons in this precious life of ours. And whatever you do, never stop trying, for tomorrow truly does bring another day.

Revel in this: the thing we call life. Rejoice and be glad, and help others find the joy as well.     

“A few times in my life I’ve had moments of absolute clarity, when for a few brief seconds the silence drowns out the noise and I can feel rather than think, and things seem so sharp and the world seems so fresh. I can never make these moments last. I cling to them, but like everything, they fade. I have lived my life on these moments. They pull me back to the present, and I realize that everything is exactly the way it was meant to be.” This much I know. This much is certain.

And while ”I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve,” we have an extraordinary phenomenon occurring on the internet, on this website, of which each and every single one of us is a part of (sorry for ending on a preposition). This is a great tool that can be wielded as both weapon and shield, and remember with such great power comes as equal a responsibility. 

As Gandhi said, “be the change you want to see in the world.” From there all else will follow. I believe in this, for I have seen it first hand. I have hope for us all, and believe me in darker times we need it. 

So while this may not be wholly applicable to everyone, and while it may overgeneralize or over-specify, and while it may get attacked: I send this message out to you, not entirely for you, but because of you. And other than needing to finally get this off my chest and share, I am not entirely certain why else I wrote this, nor do I know how to feel of this writing other than that I am glad to have done such.

If you have made this far, thank you. If you have not, I give equal thanks.

I bid you a good night. 

Velveteen finger-tips trace the contours of your porcelain face, causing dynamics between your hush-toned voice as compared to your laboured breaths; but you are safe here, as you always were, cradled in the presence of this magnanimous heat.