I’m prone to bouts of anger, short tempered, the overly sensitive type. Writing is a way to make sense of it all. While art is a way in which I can escape the thoughts that haunt me shutting off conscious thought and allowing my hands to guide me.
Are we just a container holding the emotions like a pool of water sensitive to drills aging in rust several holes and we will leak?
I’ve applied the tape over the years the stickiness has proven to be mediocre letting loose the emotions burst a little happy dissolves within the murky water.
The anger hiding in the water it turned a murky red I can’t feel it differently the levels of chlorine can’t filter can’t clean it the toxicity is often high within me and I try bringing the happiness in filling the water it leaks out but when you’re mostly angry it’s difficult to cleanse the water without bursting first.
There isn’t the perfect life The perfect place to sit and listen the perfect place to cuddle in the perfect place to feel there isn’t there is life this living part of us.
There is a place we sit we listen we argue it out I close my ears up as I think of the words and we feel unheard angered at the thought of not being wanted because the living part in me thinks through it all feeling hurt feeling confused filled of words that can be written but when spoken parts are often missing.
There isn’t the perfect life the perfect place the perfect love the perfect person there is you there is me there is love I feel it somedays I smother it beneath my anger beneath the worries of the human-made beneath the wars of the people scattered about beneath the worry of losing of your heart stopping of the children slipping I smother it beneath the worry the part of me thinking of the horrors of death thinking that one day I shall be ready I won’t thinking that the best for me closing my eyes first would be the worst for you.
There isn’t the perfect life the perfect place even with that thought I can hear your heart I can feel a relief when I’m cuddled close even if there isn’t perfect and we aren’t the picture of it all you are and I am love.
Human beings we wither within right and justified wrong and revengeful.
Life just does it doesn’t determine perfect timing it just does it makes mistakes misses pieces of codes because it does it doesn’t pick.
We (humans) dive within trying to find links we separate ourselves out life just does it just exists as one living being within billions.
Life forms like us (humans) producing living births and life forms dropping eggs it doesn’t discriminate all of it is living and it just does if we (humans) went extinct life would not it would continue.
I get so frustrated so angry so overwhelmed by life and I think why am I upset why am I shouting I’m happy then why?
Then I break a moment of quiet my thoughts buzz it away like billions of bees and my ears they sting as if the words are coming form outside no, they’re in here this anger it’s me.
I must acknoledge that there is enough resources, land for us all to share enough food for no stomach to know hunger enough material for no body to go naked enough there is enough for every spot on the globe resources to move to share to take and to give that’s not economics.
Economics has hungered us a hunger that can’t be filled as a person in a mansion sits at a table fully fed and still longing for the perfect vacation home wondering why the rest isn’t able it couldn’t be that you over took your share?
You feel pain right now you feel uncertainty you feel exhausted as if the serpent itself has lifted its head out of the drain slipping within the holes of you wrapping its body amongst that pink squishy part of you leaving only the words quit, submit but wait what if you do and what if you’re wrong what if there is life after this?
If you give in submit quit what if nothing isn’t it what if there is more?
The supreme dictator shackling your soul determining your eternity you had more years left before their judgement before their ruling you gave in sooner now you’re there awaiting their courts feeling the ruling within you what if there isn’t anything but this what if nothing isn’t a gift you’ll get?
So rather than wallow within all this deep hatred and pain you’re feeling enjoy this instead find the parts that are worth the pain you’ve put in because nothing isn’t a certainty.
Live, live long don’t quit because nothing isn’t a certainty and what waits is unknown and the supreme dictator shackling your soul could be worst that the pain of this living space.
So you feel mad right now and later it’s the same that boiling sensation within you all your thoughts all your wants screaming out to the surface it burns spit burns flesh and you keep because everything needs to listen everything needs to know because your feeling it and it hurts the temper is splitting from you entering their skin through the wounds of the burns and their spit is smoldering although you can’t stop not yet your brain is ignited and it wont it hurts meditation isn’t sitting listening to the calm you can’t you won’t it’s ok scream it’s ok be angry just don’t smother the happiness beneath it.
I don’t want a great big house a great big place I don’t want.
I don’t want to earn your pay I don’t want to listen to your rules I don’t want to pretend to be free yet confined by your wants because you need the big house the staff to direct the floors you never sweep the meals you never cook the lawn you never mow we’re enslaved by your wants. as you speak as if nobody wants to work.
I don’t want to serve you I don’t want to clean up for you I don’t want to wash your sins I don’t want to cover your bruises I don’t want my needs to be defined by your wants as I service the floor for a pay that doesn’t cover needs because your wants out service us all is that really economics?
In the water you are capable you are not the red in you mixes with the water out as your body quivers the coldness is everywhere and the hopeless thought begins to be replaced with the person in you that is of a cruel thought longing for the shark to tare you to rip the limbs to eat on your flesh because the coldness of the water the loneliness that it feels awaiting death smothers the survival instinct and even though your skin is tough the shark bites loosing a tooth replacing it swimming up you survived it once and it’s back and you want to quit you want to succumb to death yet you know that death is nothing if life isn’t a struggle so you swim faster in search of the island in which is your strength.