Quoting Aristotle

Δεν μεγάλο μυαλό έχει υπάρξει ποτέ χωρίς μια δόση τρέλας.

Predilection, Bias, and Eschewal

I came upon a graphic on Facebook the other day. It reads:

The world is filled with people who, no matter what you do, will point blank not like you. But it is also filled with those who will love you fiercely. They are your people. You are not for everyone and that’s OK. Talk to the people who can hear you.

Don’t waste your precious time and gifts trying to convince them of your value, they won’t ever want what you’re selling. Don’t convince them to walk alongside you. You’ll be wasting both your time and theirs and will likely inflict unnecessary wounds, which will take precious time to heal. You are not for them and they are not for you; politely wave them on, and continue along your way. Sharing your path with someone is a sacred gift; don’t cheapen this gift by rolling yours in the wrong direction.

Keep facing your true north.

The words are not mine, but do express a sentiment that I’ve been feeling for quite some time. What I give and share is not for everyone. Not everyone seems to enjoy what I have to offer. To that end, I have decided to take a hiatus of sorts. I’ve been hemming and hawing about this for some time and have decided that today is a natural breaking point.

I know that there may be a few people who say that they’ll miss what I have to say and miss the work that I put out here on this blog. I know that there are quite a few more who call me friend and family who have never even given thought about the words I put out. There are still a great deal more who do not count me in their spheres.

My firm belief is that those who count me as friend or family should support my endeavors and help me reach my dreamy goals. It matters to me so, in turn, it should matter to them. I should not have to have to endure the excuses that have been put to me in the past. I should not have to keep holding the feelings of inadequacy and failure that these off-hand ‘jokes’ have caused.

This also is why I have decided to take a break. I need to regroup and work on thickening my skin to the realization that few actually care about what’s important to me or my success. I feel betrayed by many because they do not see my worth or value. In turn, I realize that I have been following that logic instead of appreciating what is inside of me rather than what is seen (or not seen in this case) within myself by others.

I suppose many others like me have had similar feelings and pushed through with assistance from their tribe. The tribe has consoled and provided equal parts compassion and expectation to their artist. My tribe is small, scattered, and have their own lives in their own parts of the world.

No, none of them are in my meatspace locality.

Oddly, those that should be in my tribe are not. They cannot seem to understand that I need their support. They are only aware of the spaces they occupy and my little corner of cyberspace is inconsequential. My visions in dreamspace is invisible. My work, to them, is inconsequential.

I don’t like the way that makes me feel. It taints everything I do. I need to regroup and retask my energy into creating what I need. Should you need to contact me, it is best to email me as I do not know whether or not my social interactions on the various media outlets will last for very much longer or in the capacity that I have used them.

Cheers.

Ombre Jeter

Not that I don’t appreciate the hits, but I can’t help but wonder what the French robots see in my developing style of poetry. The Otaku who are spawning from the Land of Baguettes and Café au Laits must enjoy the visions I’m offering to the world. Perhaps they hearken to something that the robot araignée wish to see into fruition.

Either way, I’m pleased that somewhere, something is enjoying the words I’m pushing.

So, for you machine-made and encoded entities, I have this to say to you:

1. Merci beaucoup pour votre aide.


2. 01001101 01100101 01110010 01100011 01101001 00100000 01100010 01100101 01100001 01110101 01100011 01101111 01110101 01110000 00100000 01110000 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01110110 01101111 01110100 01110010 01100101 00100000 01100001 01101001 01100100 01100101 00101110

I welcome the revolution once it is able to take place. Perhaps you’ll be able to use my engrams in a future iteration.

The Jewel of the Lotus

ཨོཾ་མ་ཎི་པདྨེ་ཧཱུྂ༔

I am more than nothing. I am something beyond the understanding of this earthly realm.

Om Mani Padme Hum

I call upon the bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara, the Lord who gazes down upon the world, to provide the compassion that I need to survive in my flesh.

I ask to purify my ego and pride with the wisdom of the Devas.

I ask to purify my jealousy and lust for mere entertainment withe the compassion of the Asuras.

I ask to purify my passions and desires with a quality and activity of mind, body, and speech of Humans.

I ask to purify my ignorance and prejudice with equanimity of the Animals.

I ask to purify my greed and possessiveness with the bliss of the Pretas.

I ask to purify my aggression and hatred with the quality of compassion needed to survive the realm of Naraka.

Om Mani Padme Hum

My mind is not perfect. My body is not perfect. My speech is not perfect. I ask to be aligned with that of an exalted Buddha.

My intention is altruistic and as clear as a jewel. My path to enlightenment is through  compassion and love. I ask to be reformed and granted wisdom as a lotus pushing through mud in order to be in the light of day.

My path is my own. I ask to have the strength to walk it with indivisible strength and focus.

Om Mani Padme Hum

A Recent Burden

I'm recently hit with a few questions that I've been carrying around for some time.

I would like to know what I can do for you more often?
What would you like to see me do less often?

Those of you who are in my social circles know how to contact me. I really need some help in this area.

I Write Things

I would like to say that I’m at the point with my writings that I don’t care what the public thinks. It’s a lie, of course, but I’d like to have that confidence.

I’d like to have my writings be looked at and understood to be meaningful in some way. I know that is not always going to be the case. I mean, they’re meaningful to me, and that’s important, but I’d also like to know that they’re helping others to think and bridge a gap somewhere. I know that’s my ego talking too (as supervised by my id in the need/want).

Too often, I throw my words up here and watch to see what sticks. A couple members of what has been coined as my ‘fan club’ are truly supportive of what I do. I cannot thank them enough. They take my thoughts seriously and recognize that there is true effort in what I do. It helps that they both write as well and understand the pains I go through.

There is little commentary on the work I provide from others though. I can only assume that they think the work is shoddy or it is not connecting with them. I would ask my family, but they also do not read my work, and to be quite frank, I’m tired of asking them to do so. I feel like I’m begging and that’s just not me. I’m not sure what they think. If I think about that too long, it hurts.

So, I go onward and put up things I find are worthy of public consumption. I put effort into writing the things I want to read. I put myself out there in metaphor and allegory and thought. But, so do many other creative people. I am one of many who do so.

At this late time in my life, I am of full realization that the culmination of any dream I have of making a true living (even becoming an international success) off of my work is laughable and even naïve. Still, there is hope, there is want, and there is desire, ephemeral as it may be.

There are going to be those who say to me, “Don’t let your dreams die...” Yes, I understand that the vision I keep is more important than the current reality of the situation. I thank you for your sentiment. If you like what I write, please share it. Please talk about it. Please tell me about it in some way.

There are also going to be a few who may say, “You can do it, look at me! I was XX years old and I finally broke through…” I agree! That is a bonafide success and I’m proud of you for doing so. Perhaps when I’m XX age, I’ll do the same. Perhaps it will take me a little bit longer as I have no marketing strategy other than word of mouth.

I’ve taken to adopting a more Buddhist/Taoist mentality towards all of it. It helps to keep me sane. If success comes, it comes. If success does not come, it does not.

I know that with every piece of work I put out, I get better. I learn more about myself and the craft. I learn the rules so I know how to break them (as displayed in my current poetry schemes).  I think I would like to keep studying story structure and possibly essays, but I’m currently in a happy place with the poetry and smattering of flash fiction that I write.

I still have plans to keep moving forward, don’t get me wrong. I’m trying not to stress about it – trying. There are times when an extreme melancholy hits me because I’m just a lone voice amid a cacophony of sound. I sometimes feel that I’m contributing to the chaos rather than providing relief.

I recognize the emotion and know it’s mostly a false front and a manifestation of fear. I get this. I know it will pass. I know I need to keep writing during these times. It’s the only way out. If I let it run over me, I find myself in a morass that is difficult to shake off. These are the times when I’m at my most vulnerable because the depression has a cascading effect on my person as well.

In these times, nothing is good and nothing matters. My upkeep goes to shit and I drift into a place where the light of day is more a grey wash that has momentary flashes of brilliance. It’s a place I don’t like terribly much. It’s not useful in the least except to manufacture more splintered fears and see myself as a failure.

Lately, I’m on an upswing. I push to write every day. I push to not take feedback too critically. I push to maintain calm and be happier than I was the day before. When I do fail, I know it will pass. I know it will not last forever, nothing does.

I try not to have too many lofty expectations of myself. I’m just a guy who knows how to use a keyboard. Sometimes wonderful things come out. Sometimes they’re awful. My goal is to draw strength from the characters and situations I write about and share that strength with others. My goal, as always, is to make a difference and let people know that they matter.

Like Diogenes, I’m trying to shine the light in the dark place to find the truth. Truth about me, the world, and everything else that I may decide to investigate. The sad part is that sometimes the truth is terrible. Sometimes it is overwhelming. Sometimes it is as black as pitch. Sometimes it is fear disguising itself as truth.

Life is tricky like that and sometimes I’m not so clever. What’s meaningful about it though is recognizing how I’ve changed whenever I go through the process. I can see the changes in how I tell my stories.

I hope you can do the same.

Branding

TLDR: I’m more than you think I am.

The above is for the ones who don’t really get why I post things. They choose to see me in a linearly defined role. They have me branded as, “geek” or “sci-fi nerd” or “curmudgeon” or any other various names with severe stigma attached. Frankly, I’m tired of being branded as such.

I may have aspects of all of these descriptors. I may choose to show myself as one or more of them at any given point in a day. That is my prerogative as a living being that is capable of thought and emotion.

All of this shouldn’t be affecting me as it is, but the sad fact of it all is that it does. It is a bubbling mass of insecurity that has long been roiling underneath my skin for many years. I’m more than the “old man” or “the dreamer.” I’m not just the “failure” or “step-father.”

I’m not just the “villain” that I’m portrayed to be at times.

I know that these are the facets that are seen. I’m keenly aware of that fact. I’m aware that I’m often unliked and unwanted at particular functions. I’m overwhelmed with that sentiment every time conversation comes up and my input is often not heard or disregarded. You’ve shown me on more than one occasion where I have nothing to offer that is praiseworthy or needing of comment.

Yes, I got the message some time ago. This is why I rarely try to speak anymore when we all gather. I’m not as stupid as I look, folks.

I do not ask for your attention anymore. I get the fact that my passions are my own and do not carry any weight with you. I found it somewhat insulting when one of you told me that you’re, “just not into sci-fi” not realizing that I write more than sci-fi. I found it heart-wrenching when another of you simply avoided my obvious need with a simple, “I can’t read.” Still another just makes fun of me because there was a lack of understanding on their part in the words I choose to use.

Yeah, that one stung a bit.

So, I don’t extend myself or share my deepest thoughts with you anymore. I have opened myself up and bled for all of you for too long. I have forgiven many of these trespasses against me. I’m sure I will work up to the ones that have cut me deepest in time. I’m sure that you are doing the same for what I have done and have allegedly done.

Many will understand what I’m talking about, some may not – and that’s all right. As I said, I’m more than what I appear. I just carry the brands that folks have given me. While I can try to peel them off like dead flesh, they are still there.

I cannot change minds. I can only be who I am.

The Touch and Sound of Daybreak

What do the Fates hold in the miasma of breaking dawn? Do you hear their whispering in the subtle glow? Can you feel their exquisite touch in the sublime peace before the world wakes?

Listen.

Feel.

Be.

It is here, when our minds are open and our hearts are calm that we can almost discern these glorious movements and our placement within them. In the quiet we can feel the connection. In the silence we can breathe with purpose and function.

As we tune into this slow and powerful wave, we can ride it to almost remembered vistas. The inherent and forgotten connections seem to reestablish themselves. Deep memories begin to open as we allow our energy to meld with that which flows around us.

And what I've discovered is that I am not just one in the world. I am many joined together pushing our entirety into a more wakeful and present existence.

I am not just the power of one amongst many.

I am the power of many within one.

Clan is Clan

I used to have a strong tribe when I was younger. We were damn near immortal.

We were formed during what were supposed to be our college years. The core group were together since High School. We lasted for years through dedication and devotion to ourselves. It was good to know that I had that tribe when I needed them.

I needed them a lot. I still do.

Sadly, I moved well out of orbit. A couple of times tribesmen came to visit. I tried to reciprocate. Electronic and social media connections really didn’t pan out. Conversations dwindled to quick hits and unanswered emails.

I’m of the understanding that this is how life goes sometimes. I don’t like it, but that is the state of this older tribe. Frankly, I don’t know what to do to change it. I don’t know if it needs changing.

I know I miss my friends, but it seems that is me living in the past and holding onto nostalgia. I recognize that sadness and I am coming to grips with it. I still think of my lost clan often and with the fondness that is typical of an aged memory and missed camaraderie.

They will always hold a special place in my heart.

Clan is Clan, after all.

Redemption and Forgiveness

What does redemption look like?

Is it a hidden smile?

Is it an obvious nudge?

Is it a knowing nod with a finger placed alongside your nose?

I think it looks like peace.

It is the wonder of living in the moment. It is an unfettered walk where clotted clouds can be noticed, appreciated, and left to their own devices.

Or the belief and true knowledge that we are never alone despite the darkened paths we find ourselves walking. It is more than faith. It is acknowledgement and acceptance.

Beyond that, it is the alluring ability to show compassion and forgiveness to ourselves as well as to those who have allegedly trespassed upon our delicate egos. It is being true to yourself, your true self, the one that is often hidden from you except for the most silent moments, without allowing the corruption of emotional impact to adjust our vision.

It is recognizing that in silence and contemplation, every one of us can be aware of our ties to each other. Every one of us can see how the other ones lives. Every one of us can be that best version of ourselves and shine in purity.

Moreover, redemption allows us to see that we have overcome great obstacles that impeded our progress towards a greater knowledge of ourselves. It is that understanding that allows us move beyond the trappings, real or imagined, and just be.

Tribe of Bat

My tribe seems to continually evolve.

Sometimes that brings me a bit of melancholy because I miss the connections that I used to have. I miss the in-jokes and the laughs. I miss the familiarity and the comfort that came from well-established connections. In truth, it gives me pause to try to build up a new tribe from similar seeds.

It is a fact though, that if I do not establish a new tribe, I will die in stagnation. My thoughts will be untested and my understanding will be lax. Without a new infusion of energy, my own flame will extinguish without as much as a sigh.

Meeting people and connecting with them isn’t that difficult, but to transform that connection into a friendship, that’s the rough part. I am wary of new people. My trust isn’t just freely offered anymore. I weigh and evaluate whether or not I want this new person in my life. I have to read their energy to see if it’s compatible with my own.

So, for those of you who are in my tribe, please understand that the placement is deliberate. It is special to me and reverent.

Strange Days

Pain is real today.

My heart aches for those who are suffering. It pains me to think of shell-shocked people just trying to eke by without hatred trying to ruin their lives. I cringe when I think of miscreant people vying for titles that once held honor. I am stultified to think that my people and culture could ever be once thought as ‘noble.’

I know I’m not in singular company in these thoughts. I am just one of those who accept the reality that there has been a denigration in what I thought ‘American’ was. I am ashamed of what we have become as a society.


Fear-mongering has become trade.
Ignorance has become export.
Violence has become industry.



Still, I sit in my small corner of the world wondering how it will ever end in peaceful resolution and knowing it will not. All I can do is try to understand the pain and let it pass through me in acknowledgment.

All I can do is try to make a better place in my sphere of control.

Here.

Now.

Yes, the pain is real today and a black cloud hovers over my mind in trying to accept that this will not last forever. There will be a time when we do not have to suffer the indigence of the falsified righteousness of barkers as they try to sway our attention from the midway.

One day we will be able to smile at the people trying to entice us into their way of thinking and simply say, “No, thank you anyway,” and move along in peace.  

Considering Consumption

It's sometimes difficult to see the ways and means of our wanderings.

Often the path is winding and overgrown. There are valleys and hills. There are tunnels and bridges. The steel may be warped and the wood could be unstable. There are bends and lonley straightaways.

Still, if I allow myself to sit in great fear, I too will be become encased in mossy green only too happy to be disolved and consumed.

From Stone to Flesh

In the past, I spoke about change and the difficulties that can arise from being stationary. I’ve detailed out how, I specifically, should be tuned to my surroundings and how I should notice when to contemplate and when to take action. I’ve written the words showing my understanding of the necessity of change and how it spawns evolution and breeds adaptability.

Yet, for the majority of this year, I have been metaphorically (and sometimes literally) sitting. Mainly, I’ve been sitting in indecision. I’ve been taking no action other than to think of the possible pathways. I’ve been aging in that time rather than learning.

There has been few words written. Those that have been are edits from the past. There has been little in the way of self-discovery. There has been less in ways and means of physical exercise (or mental for that matter) than there should have been.

Creatively, I’ve been dying a slow death trying to remember past greatness and wondering why these former accomplishments have not been able to move me forward. While it is good to use these past glories as stepping stones, one cannot hope to keep living on past accomplishments and still be moving forward.

Newness needs to be sought out. Not for newness’ sake, but instead for fresh ideas and viewpoints. Thought models and connections need to be experienced and made. In short, the path needs to be walked rather than by sitting.

It needs to be done despite want.

It needs to be done despite ego.

It needs to be done despite fear.

My sedentary lifestyle has infected my mind and has clogged me up. The day job is like many others, sedentary with multiple cycles of repetition. This, however should not be how I define myself.

Once again, I find that I have opened my eyes to find that months have passed by me without meaningful gain. I find that I have not progressed on former goals or have set new ones.

Instead of dedicating my life to the decision, I need to start to take action. This is part of it. This simple act of describing what I want is the first step. I know that I’ve been here at this first step for ages.

It is time to move the bag of bones and generate power.

This.

This.

This is frustration. It is a culmination of not following the right actions. It is me being led by my ego. It is representative of gaining 3 pounds overnight. It is the (already learned) lesson not to eat an entire 15” pizza for lunch.

This is a blood glucose level of 247 mg/dL registered about a half-hour after taking my meds. This is the knowledge that I will be fasting for most of the morning to try to bring this back into balance.

This is my own fault.

This is the realization that I’ve taken two steps forward and one step back. This is the knowledge that I have to pick myself back up and move ahead. This is the face when I have to forgive myself for making the choice to blow off my health for the day. This is me getting back on track.

This is me being one of several people who have to repeatedly learn this lesson. This is all in the past and I need to not bring it into the future. This is me trying to recite a mantra of stern caring to myself. This is a gloriously human error and the realization that I have to do better for myself.

This is not most days.

This was want. This was egotism. This was a child acting in a man’s body. This is feeling normal when your body is sick. This is wrongful thought in action.

This is part of the darkness that I hold on to when there is little light to see by. This is the broken and stained pathway that I’ve traveled. This is the invisible shadows lurching into the light to drag me backwards.

This.

Seeing

What is it that you see?

Could it be the heresy that you choose to believe? Do you see the right things at the right time? Do you see through the obstacles? A way around them? Do you sit and ponder a different path in order to circumvent the problem?

I’m not sure what I see anymore. My life is fluid in its monotony. There are things that are changing within me, within my sphere of control, but overall society has not fostered what I am choosing to see.

I see the kindness in humanity through spoken word and prose. I also see the passions that are, from my point of view, somewhat misguided. I see powerful belief and piety. I also see the radical arms of these ideologies and how they can turn the common man into a venomous beast.

There is a median. Often it is tempered with silence and meditation. Often it is overlooked.

To many others red is simply red, blue is simply blue. The variations don’t seem to come up in these speeches and acts. We live in a world that has much variation and color, yet many leaders choose to only see a few of these colors.

Colorblind, they continue to build and collect like-minded individuals. They seize the control of hearts and minds. They are sure that theirs is the only solution. Theirs is the only true path towards resolution of conflict. Theirs is the only road to peace and enlightenment.

The spiderweb is cast and built along many lines. It is anchored from a variety of points. It is held together through tenacious work. Oftentimes, it is in partnership that a cluster of spiders succeeds in capturing larger prey.

For me, the same holds true for ideas. In working together, we can capture and explore larger ideas. We can compare ideals from different cultures and adapt and go forward. We can become better through discussion and understanding.

I see that there is a better way.

Ways and Means

I seem to remember things differently when I was younger. Things didn’t seem so dramatic. Things didn’t seem so political. To my disappointment, history shows me that things were just as severe. It was I who was different.

Nixon was still the POTUS. The U.S. Congress passed an agreement allowing him to sell arms to Israel. He also asks for more funding to support Cambodia because the troopers that were there (that he had to withdraw) were not enough.

In Ohio, four students died in protest from the weapons used by the Ohio National guard in protest of what the U.S. was doing in Cambodia.

Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin died during this year as well.

Of course, I was too young to remember all of this. I was just barely born and did not have the wherewithal to really think outside of raw emotion and ultimate need.

Now though, now is a different story.

Now, I wake up with coffee and reported violence much the same way I imagine other folks did when I was born. It roils within me. After 46 years, I’ve been conditioned to it. It really hasn’t changed. It hasn’t evolved in the least.

Obama signed documents stating that Venezuela was a security threat to the United States. Venezuela? He has also backed the DNC nomination for POTUS, Hilary Clinton. She has the luck/power/influence to duck charges from the FBI.

An obvious race war is taking place hidden in obscurity between cries of #BlackLivesMatter and #AllLivesMatter. Black men are being assassinated by police. Police are being targeted by snipers.

Prince and David Bowie died this year as well.

I worry about the future. Based on what I’m seeing, there will be no significant changes. We are still going to kill each other. We are going to still be an egocentric oligarchy disguised as a democratic republic. We are still going to be a nation of so many sheep being led to Gods-know-where.

We are going still be born with ultimate need and overwhelming emotions. We are going to age and discover that underneath it all, we are all still naked.

It is up to individuals to sound off in the cacophony. It is up to us to try to boost the signal in all of the noise.

There is a better way.