So many words

I'm full of so many words yet I let them build up inside me like a beautifully crafted brick wall with all the different colors of reds and each brick laid up there so perfect in all of its uniqueness, yet so lonely and unnoticed.  I build the wall but I don't ever reveal it, that's my problem. I spend all my time, my energy, my money and resources on making myself feel better that in the end all I am really doing is making myself feel bad.  I am here to reorganize my life, my priorities and my own well being. I won't feel bad for doing the things I need to do for myself and I won't take any shit off of anyone that doesn't value or appreciate me.  I'm going to start making myself really unavailable to a lot of people and I'll get some backlash but I am ready for it.  I am ready to watch them squirm around like they wish they had never questioned me.  I want to help but I'm done being taken advantage of.  I seem to find myself in these types of situations more than I would like to admit.  It's one of my toxic traits, help out others so much that you end up forgetting to help yourself.  A part of me has always hidden away my love for writing.  I think back on my childhood and one thing becomes very clear, I spent a lot of time writing.  I never really finished anything but I found so much joy in it.  Even in high school and college when it came up to having to write a paper, I wasn't even mad, actually quite relived because then I knew what I was doing, for the most part when it came to writing a paper.  Words just kind of flow out of me although they can be such a disorganized mess when they first pour out.  My mind works in all different directions, bouncing around like a pinball in a machine.  The words just brilliantly falling out of my mind and onto the paper, full of jumps and curve balls.  Crushed by the mere thoughts of inadequacy are the words that wanted to make the page or paper but sorely feel short.  If I wrote a book would you read it? Do you even read this blog?  Do you even care what I have to say? The intrusive thoughts might crush me and my dreams, but I will lay there crushed but only because the crushing is how the beauty even finds the paper or the words even accumulate in my mind.  Without being crushed I'm not sure the words would even form.  I used to hate the distress of my own mind, my own thoughts and emotions.  I realized though that in that distress is where I find my best creative work.  I'll never seek out despair, I'll never have too, it will always find its way to me.  Thats all the hope I need. 

It's a poem alright

All I want to do is just write.

Write about nothing 

Write about you

All I want to do is just feel.

feel rather funny 

feel rather blue

All I want to do is be real.

real about nonsense 

real about this process

All I want to do is believe. 

believe there is kindness 

believe there's a thrill 

All I want to do is just write.

Write about everything 

Write about you

There's a poem. 

There's always a poem.

My whole damn life.

Inspiration is everywhere.

Breaking Point

 All I ever wanted was to feel alive.  I wanted to save the world until I realized that it doesn't want to be saved. I now wonder why I am here, what's my purpose in this world if I never get a voice.  If I never get a chance to tell you why it hurts.  To live in this world is to live in hell but without hell we wouldn't try so hard to find a way out.  A way out of this misery a way out of the mess.  Looking towards the future forgetting there's a past.  Living in the present but not really being there.  The worlds this crazy place and I find comfort in writing out the pain.  

Nov. 29. 2020 Breaking Point 

I've been trying to find my purpose, what really makes me tick.

I work and work and work at it but never get the hint.

I end up just giving it away just to hit my breaking point

And then running far away.

Timing isn't everything, it's actually quit insane.

I've been trying to find my purpose, to know why I am here.

I've always felt the need for greatness 

And as I fail, I flake.

It just ends up being me self destructing again

And it's all because I caved.

2020 Made History

 I can't help but to want to just write about 2020.  I mean for heaven's sake it has definitely made the history books but its also made history in my own personal life too.  I do know one thing going into 2021 is I will never ever say... 'said upcoming year is' and I quote "going to be my year, the best one yet!" I look back now and I laugh hysterically, partially because I've learned one of my defense mechanisms is making jokes, laughing or making light of things that just plain suck and there is really nothing funny about it but if I don't find something funny about it then I'll get all emotional, in my feelings and get depressed.  Have I told you that I struggle with that you know depression and anxiety to the point that I have let it control so much of my life its truly sad really.  That I've drank myself stupid too many times to count, that I have drowned the very thing that produces some of my best artwork or poetry.  That I am so worried about you, the critic that I allowed myself to stop doing what I love and doing it with a purpose and not just for me to be happy but to bring joy to others that may need it just as much as I do.  Let's just get real I needed 2020.  I needed this year to jolt me back to my truth to my purpose before I let all the world get its hold on me.  I needed 2020 to be complete shit and now I am sure you are laughing with me because what crazy person would really be grateful for such as year.  I said halfway through this year that 2020 is the year of reckoning and I truly believe that and not just for me but for a lot of people.  I needed 2020 to set the record straight once and for all though, to show me that I am not meant for this world which is why it is so hard for me to live here, to stop fighting it and just accept it for what it is. I was meant to heal things, to make things I come into contact with better in this world.  I will always feel unfulfilled with my life if I don't pursue my truth.  I can't let things break me so far down that I loose that part of myself again.  If I loose that I loose everything.  Just as writing this post is like my online journaling, as I heal myself with all my thoughts of 2020 I can only hope whoever may come across this blog post and reads it gets a little laugh or a spark of joy or maybe just makes them smile a little.  All I can hope is that it helps someone because it's helping me just sitting down at my computer and writing it down and getting it out of my head.  My head is a wild place and my dreams definitely reflect that.  So as we near the end of 2020 I say leave this year and all the bullshit behind and plan on doing the things that really matter in 2021 regardless of what they all say. 

A Girl I Know

Let me tell you about a girl I know that loved someone so much that she lost her soul.

Let me tell you about a girl I know that followed her heart only to be broken inside.

Let me tell you about a girl I know who tried to saved the world despite all the lies.

Let me tell you about a girl I know who cries on the inside for being too nice.

Let me tell you about a girl I know that reaches for the stars with nowhere to go.

Let me tell you about a girl I know that sees through the lines but looses her mind.

She's one-of-a-kind, one hell of a ride, someone to desire and not blink an eye.

It's Almost 2021

 I literally just went back and read through all of my old blog posts and I have to laugh at myself a bit because I am the biggest broken record.  At one point I even set a date for my first podcast to be slated to start Feb. 2019 and here we are like three months away from Feb. 2021 and I have yet to start my podcast. I am a bit of a joke at times. I should just stop with all the talking and just do the shit.  I waste so much time, why do I do that?  I wish I knew and had an answer for you.  I had 7 blog posts in the year 2019 and here I am closing in on number 5 for the year 2020.  Did I mention that I started this Blogger in 2009?  What happened to all the talk about I am going to write more?  I will admit that I have written some poetry this year and what a year it has been!!  Although this year has been complete shit in some ways it also has been one of the best years that has ever happened to me.  It has woken me up from my culture induced coma I'd say I have been in for about 10 years now.  Somewhere along the way I got lost, I lost my truth and what I was meant to do in this life.  In a sense I lost myself.  I'm not made for this world, I don't belong here but yet here I am, I'm here to make a difference although I am still trying to figure out exactly what that is.  Maybe in the year 2021 I will be able to have that answer and maybe I will spend all my time here on Earth searching for it.  I may never find it and right now I'm ok with that.  I may never sell another painting, write that book, publish my poems or start that podcast.  It's humiliating to think about it really but I am working on not letting that get to me so much.  To say, you know what fuck it, I am going to keep doing it because it makes me happy.  If I can't make a living doing it then so be it.  I guess it just is what it is and it wasn't meant for me but don't you ever think that means that I won't stop trying because I won't.  Did I mention I am a hard headed redhead?  Well now you know.  Bring it on 2021, I am ready for the adventures that await me!

What is it you want

I've always wanted to be an artist, make my living doing all the things that I love.  Wishful thinking I guess.  That's the kind of thing people like me only dream about.  I would be lying if I said that it didn't hurt my soul when my attempts to sell my creations fall short.  I'd be lying if I said I haven't spent some time crying over it.  My art, in its various forms, all started with a feeling an emotion something that sparked something in me.  I feel the need to capture it.  My artwork bleeds emotion I always say and in reality my artwork is an emotion and to think that my art doesn't spark enough joy in you that you would spend your hard earned money on it just makes me really sad.  Sure, its a blow to my ego, I'd yet again be lying if I said it wasn't.  On the other hand I consider it partly my fault for not promoting it but its hard to want to spend time putting something out there that you feel like nobody wants.  I'll just sit here and spill my heart out to you, become completely consumed in my humiliation for a moment.  Maybe by finding the courage and strength to over come the helpless feelings and just make my art anyway because what it is that I want is to make it and then sell it but if I can't make the selling part work for me I will choose to at least not let it work against me.  If I can't be successful financially with my various forms of art then what it is that I want is for it to bring peace, to help heal and restore the people that it comes into contact with. I want it to tell you a story, one that will live on in you forever whether you buy it or not.  Making it brings me so much joy I have to choose that joy and then choose to not let it be destroyed within me.