balancing act

Good news is no news at all: it’s quite a tragedy. Happiness is thought a right deserved, not something free to pursue, and not something that exists independently of other people’s points of view. If you polled a billion people, in aggregate: a stable state. But individual’s individualism fills headspace with malformed omnipresent mass-deafening complaint. 

Happiness is an ideal told to children, and it is nothing to hold onto, but rather something to personally strive for when circumstance permits. Happiness is with counterbalance, save for in poorly-written stories of some individual’s utopic twist. The stability found in nature is a fundamental balance of positive and negative; it is light and dark, and it is black and white, but it is not cut and dry: we have too many equations and not enough constants for one solution alone to, in and of itself, satisfy.  

The stability found in nature is a lesson in taking the good with the bad as they exist because they both exist, simultaneously. It is a lesson in why it is the ground on which we all stand. It is fundamental. But it could also be a lesson in division and in how to stand divided and in how to pick a side and to put yourself on one too. Remember how leverage works before standing too close to an edge. Remember that fractions are parts of one whole. Remember, always remember, what it is you know. 

Think about the counter-intuition of existing on opposing sides of the same perceived problems. Think about being given different directions on how to satisfy your same drives. Think about the guidelines: pursue happiness although it is not explicitly given, raise your hand when you need to speak, and inhale when you require oxygen to continue to breathe. Think about having individual instructions for an assignment and being graded, alongside others with the similarly individual instructions, according to the same rubric.

We know everything. We have all of the information. We have forgotten. We have different instructions for the same assignment, which is to live just one life and to pursue the minimization of its frustrations. The unintended interpretation: to judge others as you, yourself, would not want to be judged. Knee-jerk reactions, in their numbing half-aggregate, are waiting for the opposition to be forced to budge.

We are not going anywhere. There are no sides, just balance. We are not going anywhere: we are waiting. Waiting for a shift in abstract tectonic plates to push and to shove and to force a newer brighter shinier steady-state. But newer isn’t always better. Recenter your gaze: focus, and remember, always remember, what it is you know.  

The sky above is blue beyond the fog, and the grass is always green, at least from where I am still standing: on the ground.


The people congregate to talk about the things they don’t know much about, but want to seem like they do. The people stand in circles counting pieces of bubble gum by pairs of shoes. The people are grouped into discrete anger classes, within which they raise their concerns. The people light matches, flick them into community parks, and watch them while they burn. The people are texting the people on their phones while the people around them are texting the people on their phones and the people on the phones are answering the people who texted the people on their phones. The people forget how good it feels to be in a public place and completely alone. The people practice facial expressions proving happiness, sadness, anger, surprise, and indifference in a mirror after a hot shower. The people vote the people into office with individual misinterpretations of what it should mean to be in power. The people cleanse their sins by pointing out the sins of others; the people point out fatal flaws. The people think about crashing cars into 10,000 different monuments, each representing a no longer supported cause. The people don’t have to listen to reason; the people don’t have to believe. The people have the right to chatter, the right to bicker, and the right to be deceived. The people watch their televisions to learn how to behave. Some people learn when it’s too late and take their lessons to their graves.

tiny tragedies

Caught up in petty grievances;
I, myself, a petty grievance;
rewired trying to convey
a loosely planned hypocrisy
to be unheard with my missay.

Caught as a fish on baited string
Hook-made mumbles from a mouth
Assumed escape from brief-chose allure
A puppet self-hanged by mistakes fleeting
Left dancing for future battle scars

The bees knees ache with aging angst
The clock is tick-ticking proclaiming its rank
The future is forgotten; the present is prevailing;
And the past is rewritten to correct today’s mistakes
As hard work’s head’s bowing in reverential antithanks

The political climate: a chilled glass in a desperate hand
Society vomits misthinking ill-hoping demanding they understand
A bit too soft, a bit too delicate, a bit too ready to type type type
But a skin-thickened exoskeleton is an armor battered black blue emblazoned
Reading between the mutual dysphoria of parallel lines twist-turning gone askew

Feeling nonsensing intuition’s loosing grip: introverted exclusion judges stab wounds from pin pricks. The guilty choice is one of pleasure too internally felt, and hatreds held mausoleum-bound are too-slow-diffusing ice cap melt. Retell a story blow by blow construe to no rewind. All of history building up to be summarized in one day’s time. In this putrid apoplexy of antisocial engineering, a tension is thickening as hearted hobbies turn fate-feeling. A breath of smoke breathed CO2 on grey on grey on grey. A fog swirl-lifts, and yet an unfeeble mist unmoving still stings where it remains.

hive mind

A many sided centipede who exists in all directions crawled on a wall bound by no sides and settled down for breakfast. When did you know you lost your mind? He questioned sipping stylistic tea. When my many legs became tongue tied, and my heart forgot to breathe. I walked and walked and still I found no thoughts anxiously remaining, so I talked on public pedestals and couldn’t stop complaining. We need a cause, we need a fix, we need a reason and a way. Illogic drawn on poster board depicts unthought that demands to have a say.

why i don’t participate in politics

This world is not a dystopia: it is a constant plus or minus variation on the ever-changing landscape of time, made up of individuals exchanging the highs and lows of tiny experiences, all subjectively placed on a spectrum ranging from good to bad and probably reaching far better and worse than those.  This world is not a dystopia, but there are a lot of things wrong in the world if wrongness is determined by at least one person believing that a change could cause an improvement in their life or the lives of others (either present or future or both).  There are a lot of things wrong in the world, but it seems that this wrongness stems from differing opinions on what would constitute an improvement in the current state of existence, and what would constitute a degradation.

There are a lot of things wrong in the world, but I don’t think they all have to be fixed with some blanket solution that appeases everyone, because such a solution is an attempt to achieve an unreachable goal, and such movements towards that solution produce smaller and smaller ever-exponentially decaying returns on investment to an asymptote of maximum overall utopic appeasement that both cannot be reached and should not reasonably be strived for, for to strive for maximum appeasement is to reduce the importance of gratitude when good enough should be good enough because it is enough and contention towards contentment is a fight for fighters who say they want peace but won’t give into peace because peace doesn’t force the equality that satiates the whims and needs of all individual indulgences in a consumeristic society. Isn’t a good deal one where both sides feel like they are getting screwed but walk away knowing they could do no better, assuming neither side wants to be on the losing side nor wants to force others to lose with a great recognition of loss? 

There is a natural order to everything, with tension and opposition, where wrongs are not righted by direct opposition, but by a settling balance. The tug and pull of differing perspectives with mismatched rankings of importance where both sides are striving to right a clearly marked wrong reaches a power-play-produced equilibrium where both sides are fighting so hard to correct said opposing wrong that neither can make the other budge from their position of supposed rightness (which may (at times) be more out of pride and stubbornness than infallible belief in a cause). This kind of balance risks breaking with a sudden snap and forcing one side forward and another back with a chaotic blast that shocks both parties and breathes life into brand new problems with brand new opposing solutions as teams once again form along The Next Big Panacea’s proposition lines.  

If both sides were to concede and accept some imperfections, that too would represent an equilibrium, but one where both sides could relax with a tension much less likely to reach a breaking point. Peace is not a state of perfect equality, but a state acceptance and appreciation of inequalities. A body at rest can and will stay at rest, when all of the forces acting upon it are in balance. I want to lessen the pressure exerted on my own body, and remain at rest, by accepting my own lot in life, and doing what little I can to overcome my little struggles and navigate my own personal highs and lows.  I checked the weather today: it’s not so bad out there. 

the war on drugs

recock gunshot sudden recoil. drugs smoked off aluminum foil. falling fleeing losing feeling. unknown unplugged rewind reeling. fast-forward timeline’s torn to tatters. breathing in breaking down losing touch fried grey matter. op-ed opt in open call open role. state your worth sell your time pay your taxes take your tolls. reductionist absurdity boiled down still bubbling. evaporation nothing left drinking air for sustenance. words on tongues: dissolving melting. thoughts on repeat: screaming belting. a helping hand’s a handout when necessity commands. supply some bad ideals create demand demand demand. mixed media mixed emotions mixing drinks with pill prescriptions. doctors put on pedestals for treating all our fake afflictions. but does it help who does it help? the difference is the payout. we’ve done all that we could do says a whisper seeming like a shout. pain killers kill pain until a shake rings empty silence. in absence needles fill the veins of new street market clients. advertising: consult your doctor don’t dare live days discomforted. a war on drugs is a fight for big pharma: don’t believe all as it’s contorted.


Dovetail. Love tale. Love stories gone to waste. The rise above stories, lost down below. Below me. Blow me. Billowing willow willing, waiting, wading. Candy taken from babies and pleasure taken from it. Hay right from the horse’s mouth. “Heys” right from the whore’s hoarse mouth. Throats close. Necks breaking at breakneck speeds. Speed demons haunting speed addicts haunting enablers fixated on unrequited love. Love lost. All bets are off or at least off-kilter. A blade for a sword’s hilt. Words without filter. Inhale. Exhale. Embarrassed coughs before you pass. Passing grades. Passing out. Fleeting. Flailing. Hands where you should see them. Failing. Give help only when it’s asked for, not needed. Shoot the messenger. Kill the affected. Long live the cause because we always have. You have always lived in a castle. I have always been aware of social class. Classic tales of rags and riches. Rising out of urban jungles. Hang from trees or hanged from trees? Neither: we cleared them out. Hangouts on corners. Cornered markets seem clear in the land of possibility. Possible profits with fingers worked to bones. Yours, mine, ours.  Skeletons are wearing thin. Debts promoting desperation and causing destitution. Where went a destiny that was once manifested? “Where went the constitution?” Erase. Replace. Build quicker. Build cheaper. Don’t offer free repairs. Foreign markets’ manufacturing. Improbable dreams seem possible. Align online. Know your market segment. Sell your stock. Sell your soul. Sell your hopes and then your dreams. Sell your hair for a hair comb and your pocket watch for a watch chain. Chain-link fences put up to sever ties. Do what you want to do as long as the law abides. Smoke cigarettes. Drink until your liver’s pickled. We’ve mandated health insurance. Let’s cause the problem and strive for a solution. Let’s mock preventative measures: we have abortion. Let’s continue on an ill-paved road: it has to lead us somewhere. Let’s herd like sheep for shepherds: I hear the slaughterhouse is open.