Category: Uncategorized

Sitting constant observ in the hospital,

Facing another staff on constant,

While patients sleep on –

It’s nice to have a warm job,

But time runs slow

Just as blood in the veins,

A nourishment of a paycheck 

While you accomplish nothing otherwise.

Sitting on the train,

That is sitting in a tunnel, –

I’m waiting to be released,

Waiting to be let go home,

While the steel snake collects dust,

Waiting to go on.

Time, time, time

An endlessly probing tyne

Stabbing my existence

With questions of “why,

Why still to I sit so still?

And how much longer?

And is there really any benefit to this?

This and other time 

I am in temporary service,

And the best metaphor for it 

Is food,

That feeds the gut, 

Then turns to shit, 

Loudly fearing the end of it all.”

How nourishing a thought that is,

Knowing your value,

Driving your brain into scream

Getting deaf, as well,

For while all that rubbish is never to perish

Rolls and whispers,

Noise never ceases, 

And it bounces and screams –

Announcements, advertisements, 

Orders and empty promises,

But mostly – endless chatter

Of whine, of last night’s dine and wine,

Of bullshitting yourself while bullshitting others.

Why still all this, 

Listening to all the unnecessary junk

(and perhaps, subconscious propaganda)

Of consumerism and complacency,

While my sanity’s expiring like a jug of milk in the fridge

And the eardrums surely distressing into jelly –

When I could have been sleeping

And knowing none of this,

Attempting to cheat time.

Sit & wait – 

I think it’s a weapon 

That kills with more efficiency

Than a Smith & Wesson.

I heard this hilarious one-liner at a meeting once: when someone is throwing crap at you, it doesn’t mean you have to catch it and throw it back.

Hilarious though it is, it is so true…

… because I had it happen to me and my coworkers in a hospital where one much mentally unwell patient used to throw his crap at us, and we surely behaved professionally…

… but speaking metaphorically, I still have a hard time successfully applying the “don’t throw crap back” principle to my life. I still throw the proverbial crap back when it is thrown at me. Anger, frustration, fear of being ridiculed farther, who knows what else…

Sometimes I can stop myself. In other times I can stop myself half way. And then… there are times I it appears the thrown crap hits the fan and throws it all all back at me in ways I didn’t expect was possible. And what do I do about that if not lash out in all might?

Ask for help from above works. Breathing deeply and slowly also helps. Learning experiences, I guess.

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the image was copied from https://www.vecteezy.com/free-vector/no-poop thankyou.

is my pain real?

is it really pain?

do i walk weird?

i sure feel strange

i know it’s natural

i’ve caused this by lack of care

but i still feel i dont belong in your ranks.

i know it will pass but right now i feel messed up and..

i like it.

maybe that’s how… or maybe not… they walked on the Moon.

for several seconds, i’m in a different world.

i like it there.

i needed that break from the mundane. It

i had no happiness,

just satisfied existence no vivacious ride,

but knowing that it’s a life on universes terms

and it outweighs your input,

no matter how great.

in the land where great violence looms,

in my mind’s eye music and hopeful songs

sometimes uninvitedly come into greater view

and out-shadow anxiety and deeply missing sanity.

this walk of light treading and caring not

is easier to breathe through.

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the image was copied from https://www.sciencefocus.com/space/how-long-would-it-take-an-astronaut-to-walk-around-the-moon thankyou.

Words… there aren’t much…

What do they matter

In the space of emotions,

Where loss is prevalent

And helplessness is overpowering?

In times of giddy green,

We joined you running

And squirrel-watching.

In frozen months.

We followed your tireless mice hunting

And in-snow rolling, smiling widely.

And in the midst of all, at home, –

Toy-playing and fabric-tearing

Licking dish so ferociously,

I thought you’d eat it.

Claws scratching stone floor,

Us knowing you’re coming over.

Shaking while you sleep,

Chasing dream rabbits.

Your presence and all these character traits

Made it even more that –

Home.

Then a year ago,

It all went sad and silent for an ever

Where no phrase sounded right

Unless muffled in tears.

There was some laughter,

Of us sharing memories of your goofiness

And there was more still air

Of our recalling your kindness,

Forever Igorized.

Your little sister in spirit is much like you,

And yet so different.

I cherish memories of how you were,

As I brush her hair and look into her eyes

Seeming so wise,

Perhaps knowing things

I started so slowly learning from you,

And now studying with her.

Thankyou for all your joy,

And patience, and effort

To help me feel air and earth,

And in between.

I’m in debt to your enjoying living

And sharing it with us.

Remembering you,

Igor the Fluffy Torpedo.

Miss you a lot.

How often I heard people say they wish they were birds, and be free, and go away. Nice… I guess, but it would be a constant struggle for survival and being safe.

I look at my life lately and I wish I was a tree. Yeah, roots, and trunk, and bark, and branches, and leaves. Standing in a yard, or garden, with no fingers to show. No paperwork. No standing in line or waiting for anything. No aspirations or dreams, but that’s a nice break from that, too. So, just life and feeling all of it. Not caring for what other species do.

To be a tree. No time-sensitive anything. Enjoy warmth during day, cold at night. Ok, I don’t like cold, and there is a lot of it now, since it’s winter… but maybe as a tree I wouldn’t really have thoughts about not liking cold.

And… I’d prefer to grow in a forest, away from human activity. Constant life cycle and interconnection of species. Feeding young and those in need through my roots system, those by my side, and those half forest away.

Feeling claustrophobic – where  workplaces, even though appearing open, have people talking and/or blasting music on their cell phones. In the city – near constant noise of vehicles, construction, advertised crap, music. I feel like I am limited with choices of where to go to escape all of that, and places I used to go to that provide some serenity are either gone or packed with people. Trapped in the overindulgence of others’ entertainment of all kinds. Trapped in existence, often not knowing why. What to do…? Noise intensifies with time around here, around me. It won’t change. We cannot change others, what they do and how… unless we go against their will .. which would give us all a social conflict of increasingly nasty proportions. Do we need another conflict? Right, so the only thing to change is us, or rather, how we respond to what and who surrounds us.

Rob Halford, musician and singer, known as Metal God to metal music fans, is no stranger to recovery of body, spirit, and mind. In a recent interview, he said: “Reflection, gratitude, being kind. And it’s tough, particularly in the world that we live in. We’re surrounded by a constant screaming clutter. And I’m sure being sober has been a big part of my understanding of this. You’ve gotta try and find your own internal peace and harmony. And that’s tough. It’s hard work. You can’t let it go. You’re working at it all the time.” (May 2024 https://www.darkside.ru/news/163653)

I can agree with that, a lot. Looking for internal peace and harmony… After some consideration, I started doing something different recently, to cope with noise and stress. I’ve got me a stress ball to squeeze. Literally, yes. It’s a small ball from a squash set, so it fits in a pocket. At work, I squeeze it and release it and so on, and I can roll it on my arms when I feel stressed, caught in physical four walls of space, or in the midst of human verbal clamor. I play with a larger stress-ball when at home I watch movies – sometimes movies get too loud, or some scenes are annoying or for some reason I feel anxious. I sometimes don’t notice that I bite my nails. Long time habit, and not a healthy one. A ball is much better alternative, I think.

If I cannot get my ball for whatever reason, I can pray, too. Two days ago, first after after a long time, I found myself reciting Serenity Prayer when dealing with something I couldn’t change or control. I can hum songs. That one helps. Maybe next time I could try counting to ten?

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image is mine. go copy it if you need to.

I may glimmer without too much mystery

In the shallows, I’m better reached by the sun.

And I radiate heat to those

Who need to be reached by it.

I am simple, although I may be not easy.

Still easier to read and get along with

Than those in the depths

That hide happiness and light.

Maybe it happens against their will

Maybe they are cursed and dont know that

Sun doesnt warm them well,

Their minds are too cold and too fast:

They want everything.

In shallow waters, I don’t ask for much,

I know there is no lasting peace in it.

It may seem to others

Only in the depths there is the light,

That only in the depths is real freedom,

That all others’ opportunities are limited.

It may be so.

I am not perfect

Sometimes the depths call me

And I follow to take a look

Keeping a good distance, mind you

And I don’t stay long.

I know may not come back –

They don’t get enough sun,

And their spirits grew cold

In their where-the-sun-don’t-shine circus,

Tirelessly looking for more gold,

Been seen and adored,

More awake time to feel alive,

Endless quest for perpetual fun.

Instead of concurring that,

I glimmer without too much mystery

I’m better reached by the warmth

And i can swim far down along the shore

Making my own ideas about horizon,

Seeing it every day, as sunrise and sunset,

Here, in shallow waters.

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the image was copied from https://www.google.com/imgres?q=standing%20in%20shallow%20water%20meaning&imgurl=https%3A%2F%2Fthumbnails.production.thenounproject.com%2FZ2s_AXthDt0wLexbJoWNl52ftRY%3D%2Ffit-in%2F1000x1000%2Fphotos.production.thenounproject.com%2Fphotos%2Fwoman_in_black_bikini_walking_on_beach-scopio-24210573-b222-4780-8dc2-8f6e3747812b.jpg&imgrefurl=https%3A%2F%2Fthenounproject.com%2Fphoto%2Fman-standing-on-shallow-water-in-the-sea-4M8lk5%2F&docid=ZYvovqj_Z4RDTM&tbnid=ClKiLHO9YlG4kM&vet=12ahUKEwj1zOGD8eWGAxUGIjQIHRohC2gQM3oECBcQAA..i&w=667&h=1000&hcb=2&ved=2ahUKEwj1zOGD8eWGAxUGIjQIHRohC2gQM3oECBcQAA thankyou

I can see how you are the way you are,

Be it dark all-enveloping confusion,

Or storms of thoughts making you restless

Like walking on hooks, piercing your skull

Its dense walls will resist rain and fist blow

Yet it won’t save you from the menace

Of others’ speech and vibes of the world

Invasion of inner sanctum feels constant.

Outside our skin, there’s lots of that crap.

And you deal with it in ways

You’ve acquired for years.

You repeat: phrases, words, gestures.

Compulsive touching is a need,

Even though that relief doesn’t last.

I don’t know what meaning you put into it

But I think it is protection

And acquirement of power over things

You are powerless over.

Even if you have overcame those fears

And got that stress under control,

For a long time now,

The magical thinking

Of being able to push away danger

Doesn’t completely go away.

Or maybe that is not it at all?

Maybe you don’t even know anymore

Why do you do what you do the way you do

Or say some things the way you say them.

I understand both, and more.

I get it when you are being mischevious,

Conniving, often absent-minded,

You are an isolation master.

There may have been bad use and abuse

Or maybe you were born into violence.

I know what’s behind that grin or wicked smile.

I know the freedom of not caring

I feel your want to scream with raging power

Incinerating everyone around you.

I am not that different from you.

I feel t h a t, because I lived there

Inside the mind dark and weird,

Of many thoughts produced in a second,

Continuously building a castle in which I’d hide.

Others’ pointing at my lack of filter is infuriating

There are days that the dark wool fog returns

And envelopes me and eats away

At my ability to want to continue breathing

I know you fight it.

I do too.

It is much less pronounced lately,

But when returned, it’s not less deadly.

I breathed air everyone breathes

But i never knew difference

Until someone looked at me strangely

And asked, why I said that

And did it that way, not like him and them.

It took time to understand

That I tasted water differently,

Even though my body processed it

The same way as theirs.

I don’t dislike The Different,

Things weird was Me more than anything else.

So i think i do know you.

I see how you are, and I can strongly relate.

There are so many aspects of how we are,

And still the majority just calls us “crazy”

Sometimes I read articles on mental health

And it’s so strange to see

How much stuff they find applies to me

There are so many ways

That many people lose their balanced minds.

We must be millions, unhappily unaware

Of how to get the right help.

I know that the way we are

Isolation is the best of worst strategies

And if you’re not talking

I’ll keep saying hi to you

Because one day

You may wake up to the existence

Of a door to a positive reality

Even if only for the shortest of time.

The only difference between me and you

Is somehow I manage to hold it in check

And that keeps me out-side of the hospital.

Yet sometimes I feel like holding it all together

Is too much work and i need a break.

From the rat race and all the vibes

All the noise and all care

For an unlimited while.

Not that different from you, am I?