Reality check: The Real World: March 2, 2010
I dread when it's near, for I know it will appear
And when it's all said and done, I'll feel for you less.
Catch it before it spreads
Burst it before it explodes
End it before it fades
Run before it devours...
... Remember the callous, the pattern begins
The road and the adventure only allow one
Two can never walk parallel,
One stands, one falls.
Follow the ambition like a sleep walker,
Let no one wake you.
Sleep is fragile and personal...
As is independence and solitude.
Let nothing stop it,
Let no distractions possess it.
Let nothing touch it.
It is the only constant, the only thing left to control.
So wipe those tears, clear your throat.
Face the life that never seizes to disappoint,
When you share it with another
what started as a facebook status...
Greatest culture shock:city mentality where most everything is about the "do" and rarely about the "who". Like the city, coffee isolates with its complication.We desensitize our appreciation for a simple cup of coffee after ordering too many soy, caramel, short mocha blah blahs. Likewise, we lose our taste for simplicity, the world around us and for ourselves (at the core) when we focus on fulfilling our MANY- EXCESSIVE personal options and dreams. Coffee and cities should bring people together. We give ourselves more options than we really need and we wonder why we've lost all sense of community. How is it, that in a place with a concentrated amount of people, people feel most void of genuine interaction? We do it to ourselves by over specificying. Life (coffee) was meant to be simple and consumed SLOWLY and ENJOYED in the precense of friends- not pushing past people on the street, in a single cubicle or behind a stack of textbooks... maybe i shouldn't be a barista, and maybe i should be ranting on paper rather than facebook...
Goodbye Boulder: Dec. 7, 2009
This is paradise.
Smoke coming from the chimney, snow covered flatirons, stillness.
My wounds, my hopelessness, my experience, my love, my isolation, my guilt, my meaningless have all been settled, worked out their contradictions.
....And here I am, the molded result. Overwhelmed with the beauty I keep discovering in everything.
I have become established in something that depends on the optimism I recieve from experiencing the empty.
I am too grateful for words for this place, for who I was and said goodbye to.
And who I am that I embrace.
To be calloused is apathy- a constant routine that starts and ends in the same way.
I thank my God for breaking through the stone and mending.
For exposing myself to me and for teaching me the beauty in scarring and healing multiple times.
I am fully uninhibited and free
Grateful for everything that has and will come
I'm thankful for this place, this mecca, my own roots.
I am reluctant to leave yet ready to plunge into the epitome of what I do not know.
Embrace every part of this amazing life, search for the things that are hidden by normalcy
And never settle for comforts
Plunge, embrace, forgive, isolate, re-integrate, be still, be overwhelmed and motivate.
This is life, I've fallen hard for it
I'll never tire of its wonders
I've lived and I now love harder than I ever have.
it's 7 degrees outside
It's crazy how fast the seasons change
One day, you're overwhelmed with fulfillment and gratitude
and the next you're left void of it all
Callousing yourself is much easier than re-opening and exposing
It took a couple days to warm up to the idea of it
And one to become vulnerable to it
One hour to forget all the scars, warnings and lessons
A minute to fall in and believe in hope, idealism and love.
One second for the pit to reappear and to be slapped in the face with reality.
An hour to sit in self pity
And one minute to be forced back into cynicism.
A second try, a second go
Hurts less, lives shortly
A sturdier reminder that hope always succumbs to reality, inhibition, pride and fear.
Things of this sort are only meant to happen once.
One day, you're overwhelmed with fulfillment and gratitude
and the next you're left void of it all
Callousing yourself is much easier than re-opening and exposing
It took a couple days to warm up to the idea of it
And one to become vulnerable to it
One hour to forget all the scars, warnings and lessons
A minute to fall in and believe in hope, idealism and love.
One second for the pit to reappear and to be slapped in the face with reality.
An hour to sit in self pity
And one minute to be forced back into cynicism.
A second try, a second go
Hurts less, lives shortly
A sturdier reminder that hope always succumbs to reality, inhibition, pride and fear.
Things of this sort are only meant to happen once.
cold nights: July 2009
As cheap as a lighter as delicate as a cigarette. Delicately let the smoke sit in my mouth, careful of quick circulation. An intimacy to fool us both and give us a taste of smoke that is long lived. Quick things with a nature such as this are romantisized memories that grow into passionate ones the more we tell them. Empty words of poetic pursuit and with empty touch and a deficit of inspiration. Once it hits, it will surely be gone
april 12, 2009
Passion- to feel everything to the extreme
if you believe in something, devote your life to it. Activism is being alive- be active with everything- childhood is meant to trigger passion, a child excites at the site of a butterfly, why does that passion get channeled into logic with age?
to be a kid again...
to run through forests of tall trees with blinding sunlight. Catch frogs in great revines. Mysterious fields of grass taller than me. The unkown was far greater. Logic was not yet learned- not yet understood. Creatures of emotion, adults filled with kindness. Hiding in meadows, climbing unclimable trees, chasing invisible tigers, drinking water from streams. Inhibited.
Sitting on wooden fences with pulpy orange juice popsicles.
Ferries in trees. Enchanted forests, houses in trees, eternal springs.
Sleeping on beaches, sliding on hills of snow. Disillusionment, imagination and discovery.
if you believe in something, devote your life to it. Activism is being alive- be active with everything- childhood is meant to trigger passion, a child excites at the site of a butterfly, why does that passion get channeled into logic with age?
to be a kid again...
to run through forests of tall trees with blinding sunlight. Catch frogs in great revines. Mysterious fields of grass taller than me. The unkown was far greater. Logic was not yet learned- not yet understood. Creatures of emotion, adults filled with kindness. Hiding in meadows, climbing unclimable trees, chasing invisible tigers, drinking water from streams. Inhibited.
Sitting on wooden fences with pulpy orange juice popsicles.
Ferries in trees. Enchanted forests, houses in trees, eternal springs.
Sleeping on beaches, sliding on hills of snow. Disillusionment, imagination and discovery.
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