An Alternate Reality

I’ve spent ten years trying to heal myself,
Versus ten years trying to be myself.
I saw that there was something wrong with me,
And I dedicated myself to creating relief from this reality.
I tried to change with the words I said,
And what I allowed to linger in my head.
I tried to change the habits I kept,
And sought new ones instead.
I tried to change everything about me,
Because I thought all of this could me blamed on me.
I was too broken to function,
And I was defensively turning numb.
I was too weak to realize what I need,
And I was scared to share these words I speak.
I was too young to understand,
But now I can.
I see that this will take time,
And I know that it is worth the time.
I see that I had no need to heal,
I needed time to discover how I feel.
I see that I have changed,
Although it’s in a different kind of way.
I thought that the key to life was once enlightenment,
And I knew there was much in my life to repent.
I thought that I had to be free,
In order to see what I could truly be.
I thought that I had to be whole,
In order to find what I was looking for.
But it’s the journey that holds the key,
To the person who I am meant to be.
It is the struggle that provides me with hope,
That I can have more thoughts provoked,
Through which I can discover the possibility,
That I do not need to change my reality,
I just need to see me.
I have to admit that I have faults,
And that there are lessons I have yet been taught.
I have to see that I was always me,
And that I was worth seeing.
Since I have to embrace the person that I embody,
And be thankful for this body,
That is a vessel for my contemplations,
And not the causation,
Of this debate that rages deep inside me.
I want to see that I am the best version of me,
But the pressure of that pursuit is killing,
The person who I have already proved to be.
This is me.
This is who I can be.
This is my best version of reality.

Denying My Own Disservice

Not often do I consider the alternative of defeat,
And even less often do I stop moving my feet.
It is rare when I find something about which I do not care,
And it is never that I claim my advantage to be unfair.
Since I worked diligently to see what I see.
And it took more than just a belief,
That I am stronger than I once thought,
And that life is something I’ve got.
I’ve received disappointment and joy,
And a reason to employ,
The mind that I was born with and the reasons that I toy with,
This debate and this state,
And the way I am able to relate.
Never do I question this pen and what it conveys,
Because these are thoughts I have been turning over for days.
Not once do I stop to see that I am incomplete,
Since there is always so much more I can be.
This discussion will never end since I have grown to depend,
On the thoughts on which I contemplate,
And the essence of this debate.
This is something that I crave,
And have for many days.
This is something that is now a piece of me,
And is in everything that I perceive.
This debate is not what denies me from the ability to relate,
Instead it is what has kept me alive to this date.
It is never a voice telling me to relax,
And always reminding me that this too shall pass.
But I do not want a pass,
I want to last.
I never want to become complacent,
And I always want to relate to this,
Meditation that resides deep inside,
The thoughts and actions through which I divide,
The worthwhile from the mistakes,
And what I have learned to relay –
That I was never one to sit down and admit,
That I am less than I once wished.
I will never be the person who can say,
I have wasted yet another day.
I can never be someone who missed,
The point of all of this.

A Day To Be Free

Today is a day to be free,
Or that’s at least what it’s supposed to be.
We are free to speak our minds,
And free to act as we please,
Or at least that’s what we are told by the police.
You are free to get drunk in public,
And free to run a muck,
Just as long as you don’t bring up race.
Because today is a day to celebrate a place,
A country that promised dreams and provided hope,
And a government that spit on the denial to vote.
It is a time of tradition,
And a time to kick shit in,
Because America,
Fuck Yeah,
And World Fuck You.
Today is a day to be free,
But not in the way that was originally promised to be.
We raise our flags,
And we tear down the “fags”,
We speak our minds,
And deny any opposing opinions we might find.
We boast about our home,
Yet never admit that it is all on loan.
We claim our pride,
But that’s not what is heard inside the walls of the homes,
Of the people who have attempted to claim this place as their own.
We are America,
And we are free,
To be judgmental,
And unaccepting,
And filled with hate.
So on this date that is meant to be celebrated,
Remember the people who are at the root of this development,
And the melting pot that we are supposed to be,
And what it truly means to be “free”.

The Only Opinion That Matters

Today was the day he made her see that she had changed — for the better or worse was still to be determined, but she had indeed changed. There was a stark difference between the way she spent her time these days. She was out of the house constantly, would return home exhausted and smoke herself to sleep in order to wake up and do it all over again. She was raising her voice more often and visibly frustrated with whatever she experienced while she was away from home. She was packing suitcases and unpacking them again just to allow them to sit on her floor for a week and be packed up again. She was always tired yet always moving and she never seemed to stop and play fetch anymore. She was finally moving again and she had finally admitted defeat to the strain of boredom. Continue reading

As Easy As Breathing

You judge and criticize,
And watch and listen.
You wait your turn,
And you take every moment as a moment to learn.
You are not patient with progress,
And you have a hard time accepting failure.
But you accept that you are human,
And you accept that you are flawed.
You are becoming the woman I have always admired,
And you are patiently waiting for the old you to retire,
Because the old you that you used to know,
Was an echo of pain and suffering,
And someone who embraced her vices to the fullest,
One who left her mind, body, and soul remiss.
But there was always a hint of the person you were meant to be,
And there was always a hope that one day you would allow yourself to be free.
You clung tightly to the things that helped you breath,
And searched for hope in what appeared to be a sea,
Of trial and error and the nothing that could compare,
To the dream that you held diligently in your head,
And the possibility that you had stored beneath your bed,
For the day that would come and the moment you would be free,
And finally be the woman you had always hoped to see.
Today is that day,
And now is that time.
You have waited and suffered.
You have listened and learned.
You have accepted that now it’s finally your turn.
And you take a deep breath,
And inhale the strength you know you have,
And exhale the life that you always wanted to live.

Understanding Change

She was moving on without him and he was resentful about it. Perhaps “resentful” was a bit strong of a word for what he was feeling, maybe “jealous” described it better. It felt like resentment to her though and her reflexive guilt had kicked in in response. She could not help but move on with her life and she thought she had properly conveyed that to him with months of preparation leading up to this moment. But perhaps he never took the time to actually listen to her and perhaps he never paid attention to the silent progress she was making. Either way, he seemed baffled by this development of change and jealous that he had been left behind. And the feeling was mutual. She was baffled by the fact that he had not seen this coming and the lack of support that she was receiving from someone she considered to be her best friend. And although she had always been able to count on him as an understanding shoulder to lean on, this time it felt like that shoulder was slowly sliding out from beneath her. That shoulder that she had to learn to lean on in the first place now felt like it was pushing back against her and cursing her for her change in dependence. She was now leading the way once again as his younger sister and the one who always accidentally out-shined him, and the resentment of their youth reemerged to place a sour taste in each of their mouths. It was not her competition with him though that drove her to accomplish more, it was her uncompromising nature when it came to living life to the fullest that brought this out in her. And she wished that he understood that. She did not move on to and get another stable job because she had given up on their dream of opening a business together, she did it to make that dream more of a possibility. She had not abandoned him with work still to be done because she no longer cared about their dream, but rather because she knew that life continued on and they needed a way to survive until that dream came true. And she did not leave him to struggle through learning how to make sales on his own, but she did expect him to step up and learn the skill the way she had had to do. All she wanted from him was evidence that he actually cared about their dream too — because from where she was standing, she had been the only one actually working towards making their dream a reality for months now. She had put in hours of her free time to write a business plan and even more hours to test its legitimacy. She had forced herself to reach out to resources to learn more from others who had successfully done what she dreamed of, and naturally expected him to do the same. She had set an example of progress and development for him, yet she felt like he had failed to see any of it and discredited her for the months of work she had been dedicated to. And now when she was expected to carry on with life and when she needed him to pick up where she left off, she was left hanging. And it was hard for her not to resent that. It was hard for her to forgive his blatant disregard for her efforts and dedication, and it was difficult for her to understand why he was struggling. Because she had never been cut slack in her life and she had always worked for everything that was handed to her in life. She was not blessed with good luck or cursed with terrible luck, instead she relied upon her dedication to work and improvement to carry her on. And he failed to see that. He never said it out loud, but she sensed that he thought life had just been kinder to her and that she had found the easy way out. He never gave her credit for the shitty jobs she held to pay the bills and the sacrifices she made to serve the practical side of life. He never saw that she stifled her creativity and independence to humbly work positions beneath her, and how she never allowed that to diminish her self-worth. He did not see the days she struggled to find value in how she spent her time nor the days when she wanted to give up on it all. He naively thought that this came naturally to her, when she felt a struggle and resistance to live every day.
But there was one who saw it all, and he was the one closest to the man who frustrated her the most. But he was also the one who could never do anything about it. He provided support to each of them and reminded them of patience in moments of frustration, but he could never speak out and resolve the clear conflict that was disrupting his household. Instead he waited for his humans to finally see eye to eye, and until then he showed them each the love and attention they needed. And life carried on in the only way they knew possible, with forgiveness, understanding, strength, and a healthy dose of unbreakable puppy love.

Walking Past the Shadow of Doubt

For as long as Mo had known his human, he had worn the label of delinquent. In fact that label is what drove his human to meeting his four-legged best friend in the first place. Operating under the image of a convicted criminal he struggled to find work in the already competitive job market that characterized the overflowing college town. He had grown to expect that he would be rejected as soon as he had to check the box that he had been convicted of ‘drug’ paraphernalia possession. He was not alone in his paraphernalia possession in a town that was built on prostitution and smoked weed like it was a source of life, but he was alone in being caught by the law and used as an example for punishment. He did not look like a criminal and he did not stereotypically act like one, but he had been labeled as one and he could not shake the complex that accompanied it. Continue reading

Holding Steadfast in a Sea of Change

He could see her struggling to keep track of who she is and not allow her new routine to cloud her perceptions. She had spent months with him living as they pleased and not caring about the influences of the outside world. They did not care about living what was considered a normal life style and instead momentarily lived one that suited each of their needs instead. Continue reading