Tuesday, April 28, 2009
afterthoughts? here are a few
I can't play the "what if?" game with myself.
I'll lose every time.
My imagination is stronger than my morale.
So is this chapter VIII?
I don't think it is. For once, a major change has happened
That doesn't require me to change the way things are going.
Instead, it's pushing me in the same direction. And you and I both know it's a good one.
There won't even be a shift in tone.
Just a change in the details of status.
The status quo remains;
Hopefully the Song Remains the Same as well.
It's been a while. There will be more thoughts to come, some old and some new. And some wonderful.
The point remains that the clouds still sail across the sky,
The tides still rise and fall,
And the lives of six billion people (sans about fifteen) remain untouched by the current changes in status.
As much as I'd like to get completely caught up in my own disappointment,
My own feelings,
I can't in good conscience say that I should.
(though I probably will to some degree, regardless)
I'll lose every time.
My imagination is stronger than my morale.
So is this chapter VIII?
I don't think it is. For once, a major change has happened
That doesn't require me to change the way things are going.
Instead, it's pushing me in the same direction. And you and I both know it's a good one.
There won't even be a shift in tone.
Just a change in the details of status.
The status quo remains;
Hopefully the Song Remains the Same as well.
It's been a while. There will be more thoughts to come, some old and some new. And some wonderful.
The point remains that the clouds still sail across the sky,
The tides still rise and fall,
And the lives of six billion people (sans about fifteen) remain untouched by the current changes in status.
As much as I'd like to get completely caught up in my own disappointment,
My own feelings,
I can't in good conscience say that I should.
(though I probably will to some degree, regardless)
Friday, April 10, 2009
how it all began
The first sound I heard was enthusiasm.
Nothing like an excited "hello" to kick things off.
What a lovely fluke;
It's almost as if it were planned.
After all, this is only our histories
Arriving at their logical present.
"Click-click" said the shutter on your camera,
The second sound to reach my ears:
T'was your photography that captured me.
Black and white were all the pictures running through my head,
Romantic worlds we'll never see, except within your film.
And in perception.
I'm getting ahead of myself now.
The third sound to call me was the Ocean,
Whispers in my ear, waves crashing at my side.
"Let me row you far away, embracing distant shores.
Strike up your sail and follow the ebb and flow to different tides."
The start of a new chapter:
One for me, one for you?
Spring really is a time for rebirth.
One conversation in, it's already a thing we share.
I'm so taken with you
I almost can't stand it.
And yet I'm not too concerned.
One conversation in, and a new rose is blooming.
a New Chapter
And a new element to life.
It's a result of my past, but not a lingering on it.
The same goes for your history, too.
No more haunting, no more guilt,
No more nights spent awake and wanting.
The voice who resonates in me now
Is the sound of pen on paper, scratching:
Chapter VII: the Presently Uncompleted
Nothing like an excited "hello" to kick things off.
What a lovely fluke;
It's almost as if it were planned.
After all, this is only our histories
Arriving at their logical present.
"Click-click" said the shutter on your camera,
The second sound to reach my ears:
T'was your photography that captured me.
Black and white were all the pictures running through my head,
Romantic worlds we'll never see, except within your film.
And in perception.
I'm getting ahead of myself now.
The third sound to call me was the Ocean,
Whispers in my ear, waves crashing at my side.
"Let me row you far away, embracing distant shores.
Strike up your sail and follow the ebb and flow to different tides."
The start of a new chapter:
One for me, one for you?
Spring really is a time for rebirth.
One conversation in, it's already a thing we share.
I'm so taken with you
I almost can't stand it.
And yet I'm not too concerned.
One conversation in, and a new rose is blooming.
a New Chapter
And a new element to life.
It's a result of my past, but not a lingering on it.
The same goes for your history, too.
No more haunting, no more guilt,
No more nights spent awake and wanting.
The voice who resonates in me now
Is the sound of pen on paper, scratching:
Chapter VII: the Presently Uncompleted
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Pacing back and forth behind the tool shed in the yard.
I wonder if anyone else has done the same...
And so here flow my thoughts,
The ones I only speak
When no one is around to hear the sound.
My standards are up for interrogation today.
Am I organized enough, timely enough, task-oriented enough, disciplined enough, focused enough, decisive enough, mature enough, is my work ethic where it should be, is my energy where it should be?
Probably not.
For some things, even many things, I do more than most.
But am I living up to my potential?
Definitely not.
Each of us has so much potential, I'm not really sure it's possible to live up to all of it. Most of the time, it's only out of necessity that people are really pushed to try their potential. Desire usually only gets you so far.
So I'm not doing enough then? I'm not all that I should be? I might as well assess that as the situation; it's been an underlying theme of my life for duration of my memory.
That's okay. That's something I can handle. Life is supposed to be a growing experience. Stagnant living isn't.
Mentally, my life isn't stagnant. The persona that lies behind my actions is growing all the time.
It's the actions that concern me.
It's never enough to say or to think it, it must be done to be completed. It has to be lived.
Two thirds of my actions and my living already exist as part of this story of reform, but it's always the last stretch that is the hardest. And it's also the last stretch that makes the biggest difference. So is it really vain of me to want to be better at getting things done when it's the one characteristic that hasn't ever changed?
I think there's a difference between where you are and who you are.
This is an issue of where I am. Stagnant clearly wasn't worked to my advantage. It works, but it kills me. And it's just not me. How frustrating is it to know you are one person, and then live as another, even when your friends appreciate who you are over your methods?
I wonder if anyone else has done the same...
And so here flow my thoughts,
The ones I only speak
When no one is around to hear the sound.
My standards are up for interrogation today.
Am I organized enough, timely enough, task-oriented enough, disciplined enough, focused enough, decisive enough, mature enough, is my work ethic where it should be, is my energy where it should be?
Probably not.
For some things, even many things, I do more than most.
But am I living up to my potential?
Definitely not.
Each of us has so much potential, I'm not really sure it's possible to live up to all of it. Most of the time, it's only out of necessity that people are really pushed to try their potential. Desire usually only gets you so far.
So I'm not doing enough then? I'm not all that I should be? I might as well assess that as the situation; it's been an underlying theme of my life for duration of my memory.
That's okay. That's something I can handle. Life is supposed to be a growing experience. Stagnant living isn't.
Mentally, my life isn't stagnant. The persona that lies behind my actions is growing all the time.
It's the actions that concern me.
It's never enough to say or to think it, it must be done to be completed. It has to be lived.
Two thirds of my actions and my living already exist as part of this story of reform, but it's always the last stretch that is the hardest. And it's also the last stretch that makes the biggest difference. So is it really vain of me to want to be better at getting things done when it's the one characteristic that hasn't ever changed?
I think there's a difference between where you are and who you are.
This is an issue of where I am. Stagnant clearly wasn't worked to my advantage. It works, but it kills me. And it's just not me. How frustrating is it to know you are one person, and then live as another, even when your friends appreciate who you are over your methods?
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