Tag Archives: living

Today for Choosing

Choices are made for definitive reasoning…. Make your choices with, I live with the intent of positive and feel the vibrations of greatness. This day has defined life for me in a new meaning, in a new space. I embrace it, I will it to change me into the person God has destined me to be. I see the power in life, the design of love, the importance of forgiveness   I look to the love I have been given today and I give it to faith, thankful for these moment before my life is altered forever. i feel your strength in my breath. I feel your unconditional love in my heartbeat, I feel your presence in my family. I feel your mercy in my ability to change. I feel you GOD. I have no fear in the eye of this storm, you have awakened me, with the introduction to this new beginning i give it to you. I am ready. I smile moving into the grief of life for I can make mine a meaning, a belief, a truth.

I live today for tomorrow, each choice, each moment, each understanding….

TO MY FRIENDS… WHEN I WAKE UP, COME TO ME, MEND MY WOUNDS WITH THE LOVE THAT ALLOWED ME TO LIVE… i DON’T REGRET MY LIFE

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July 11, 2014 · 6:58 am

What Next?

Knowing what comes next, is a thought that is percieved as if knowing, will in some way keep you from the darkness of life. The disappointment, the lost, the pain, the rejection. If we just know what is going to be, we can somehow make each day full of something possible positive. Hope, faith, belief, we find these cast wrapped around our broken moments, days. The memories are settled into these infinite cast of knowing that with each obstacle left to heal in it’s aftermath will one day mend, and that cast can be removed and the truth of the repaired perception will give us rehabilation. A new route to the already destined destination of our lives. If we only knew what the next maze held, a resting place, a new travelor to connect with,a dragon breathing it’s heat of new pains, a well with new gains. If only I knew what was coming next, I would be able to survive the step to the end. Yet knowing is only a crutch, how many identical steps would we ultimately take… most likely more than a few. Knowing does nothing but make you accountable for being accountable for each choice. In living with the unknown we begin a novice, able to wear the naviety with pride, instead of shame. I have known, I have seen, but didn’t learn. If only I didn’t have to wonder about what was coming next I would be free.. free to live, to learn, to own each choice golden, each choice failed, and each choice of undefined.

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Place a Bet ? (Rants)

This place I am from, breeds dreamers, believers in the making of fantasies. I wonder some days if it makes us crazy. Yet I look around at Hollywood, and I realize I have been born of dream makers. Not my parents but my surroundings. We equite life to art, and art to the imitation of emotion. This pen is my tool, my life, my therapy,  my vision. Yet I have lost my belief in dreams because the practicum says that doing what you want when you want is not prosperity. Yet if it is healthy and beautiful why can’t it be possible. I am running from nothing to believe in something. I t sounds like washed up words behind million dollar unknowns. The risk you place at the table of opportunity is not a heavy wager to success is it. Yet the wager on the actual possibility of the opportunity is great. A high roller style risk. The bet of everything placed on the actuality of nothing. If your talent is the bet what amount would you wager, how much would you risk. I am afraid of nothing dangerous, but so fearful of anything meaningful, always have been. Here in the height of building me… I find less belief in my dreams. My pockets heavy with the sorrows of the past those place chips outweigh the white chips that are full of promise, full of relief from the grief of mistakes made, of bad days turned into impossible mistakes. Can’t build on wrong, can wager on lessons learned, but no home can be built on that shaky ground. The risk is to high, the tide to rough, the waters to deep. Will I lose the bank roll, placing wagers on belief, will I drown in a sea of regret? Will I forget the lessons learned beneath the harsh sun of the presence. Is there  a story here to tell. In my jail I dream of redemption. Yet in that moment I realize redemption is not a game of stakes, but a game of will, a game of skill. There is no bet at the table, the cards won’t be drawn, this game is about what you know with what you got.

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Sometimes I Want to Say “Bitch Please”

Sit the fuck down, ain’t nothing about you better than me

Except maybe the fact that you go around thinking the shit you do is worth something more 

than the praise you give yourself

Save a life

Remind someone how beautiful they are

These are things I find beautiful

the Steps inside promise that create change

the honest mementos of love 

that take the sour taste out life

Those that you share with strangers

those are rants that may escalate you to the likes

of better than

Instead of  what I see

Your candor of judgement

mimics of hurtful glances to enemies

and opportunities to belittle the people

struggling to make the end meet the chance

Just hoping for luck

when skill seems to be lacking in the execution

You laugh at the decay of physical kindness

Find the humor in the displayed lack of humility 

Your degree hanging from the wall inside the office

of your conformity

Does nothing for the truth 

that your children have become buillies of their

peers, play telephone with the fears

of their friends

these are your trophies

“Bitch Please”

call me nothing

remind me of my failures

and still hold on to the moronic belief

that the relief you feel is superiority

that by being in the upper level minority

of what society has labeled succesful

means prosperity

Prosperity lives in the breaths between laughs

in the understanding after falling

In the faith 

after lost

So Instead of wanting to say it I just will

Bitch please if you believe

that you are better than me

 

 

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Dear Me…. About Two Years Ago

It’s been just you and I for our entire life. From the moment of conception, in those weary days where the outside world beyond mom’s womb has not exactly made a concrete decision on  whether we were even yet a person or not, it has been us, or better yet I. We wouldn’t want the world to believe that I or better yet we are mentally unstable.You are my former self and I have separated us for the pure fact that I have extricated myself from you by experience and pain, by forgiveness and well, just plain old growth and evolution. I have evolved beyond the moments of tears for nothing, or getting high for escape. Instead I have chosen to embrace my mistakes, and forgive the moments that we have experienced that have caused me or us pain. I feel less pain today then I did when I was a complete replica of you and I want you to know that I forgive you as well. I forgive you for your mistakes, for your misguided attempts at living, and I applaud you for your candor and your risks in life. If their was no you, there would be no me. Sometimes I think of you and I create advice for the similar situations in which I experience, I know that you know the paths that I should have taken even when I forget. You are close to God, new in your faith and open to see the miracles in the daily life you lead, where I have fallen short of belief, faith and hope in the present. It’s why I wanted to write you and I hope you write me back, because I have come full circle to the moment that changed us. Right before the fist of our sister contacted with our flesh over something as menial as the dvr. We lived and we forgave her, and we tried to show the belief of forgiveness in our actions to be here, struggling after so many positive decisions. Yet we are judged by those who were around us with no true understanding of who we were and who we are. Telling stories of us being “cracked out” and laughing about it as though it was true.  We were much more willing to be honest with the them and our self, and in living a view more days, experiencing a few more things we have forgotten to believe in people, we have forgotten to not just forgive them their misgivings but forgive our self for wanting to still believe even when we should do so from afar. I have lost my ability to just keep looking on them with loving eyes and saying, it’s okay to be you, but you will not make me less because of who you are.  This letter to me, about two years ago wants to say I forgive you believing that the choices you made would not affect the person I am today whether the choices were good or bad. I miss you in so many ways, I miss our freedom, but I love my growth. For a long time what people thought meant something to us back then but you didn’t care what they thought, you loved, and lived and were just who you were at that moment and I am not going to lie, I miss that part of me, that freedom, that reflection of who you were to us, and I mean us because while they have the negative to say, they forget to talk about how you listened, how you forgave, how you learned through humility to be kind. They forgot that while you listened to them state their emotional standpoints you really never said much, you just smiled and wrote it all down, Those who have remained have seen the growth and know who you are, those who have left you behind have lost the opportunity to know me. The people who got me through those days have had that same opportunity to meet the knew you and you are  much stronger now, you have transformed into me, You may not know anymore what to do with the daily, but you know how to treat a person. You would be proud of some our changes, and others would make you sad because you liked your bad but if we don’t talk sometimes,I might forget that how people see you matters, it just doesn’t mean the world. That opinion is God’s alone and let’s be frank,he loves you, he loves me and well he always knew.

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Visions of My Past

The year is moving rapidly, peddling through the days at warped speeds, the past moving so far behind I wonder if moments actually happened or if it’s just my imagination. My memories are becoming weary. Faded pictures lost in the composites of my thoughts. Inspiration lost to the mundane of daily living and I wonder if the pen I use to rely on so much, the pen that fueled my sanity in the middle of chaos is no longer my closest ally and I wonder if I am lost in the right, preferring to wind up my thoughts in the bad. Emotion seems fleeting, and passion gone, lost to just making sure the bills are paid. Making sure work is the priority for each day. Visions of my past haunt me with temptation. Temptation to see the swirling smoke of my old negative choices. I miss my piercing mind numbing intoxicants. Yet they are gone, never to return again and I feel that. Feel that old friend sitting along side my pen and I feel as though parts of me have died. The permanence of death dangles in the aftermath of change. Have traded sunny days for 1500 days of winter cold. Moved from the west to the east. Have traded bad choices for better understandings. The dark side of positive change, is the expectations of stability and maintaining the days you have now built. That bridge from what is to what can be to what was.  The fear of admittance is strong, deliberate and penetrating. Yet it will not still the beauty of what is. The beauty of the change that brings smiles to those around me, those who vowed love for me, and then the naysayers. The ones that linger in those visions of the past I have escaped. They are ones who make it easy to leave behind what is missed. Making those longing moments only short fleeting moments. Faith is strong, and fear can be stronger. Combining the two makes those visions just faded pictures seen only to the thoughts that don’t transpire

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My Essence is my Presence

My Essence is my Presence.

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