Poem: Ten Years

Ten years ago I thought I understood it all, life and everything in it, the steps in front of me felt so real, concrete-like, a path which could sustain my weight but the very first step showed the cracked foundation upon which my hopes were built on, the child-like dreams up in smoke, trying to bottle them back up in order to give it another go, happy to do so for the youth was with me, the naivety of which keeps the blood flowing and the body warm from just the possibilities,

Ten years later the same hopes rummage through my head, gluing together the wreckage of my life in order to make sense of it all otherwise, I know I’ll senselessly go down under and finally have some relief but before I can earn that, I gotta do something worthy of it and so I gathered the broken, the cracked, the splintered, the fragmented pieces of myself and form a happy, smiling face, tape it all together and show that I was here, I existed,

Ten years from now I hope that I’m not hoping any longer, that all those hopes lead somewhere, that the darkness was elevated from the light of a beacon, that the beacon wasn’t false, that the falsity didn’t break me too bad, that I still had the strength to crawl in the darkness finding the bits and pieces, that I had the courage to put it all back together and that I can take another step still.

Poem: The Death Tolls

There is never true silence,

always seeking some distraction,

those who seek, find it,

occupying the time with noise,

filling the head with all this junk,

so that when you do find yourself alone,

you have to sift through all this trash,

just enough time to get some noise going,

perhaps even ask someone how they’re doing.

 

While you see it’s face everywhere,

in the news,

in the movies,

in the music,

in the book,

paradoxically exposing yourself to it, and

hoping to forget it,

acting as if each movement isn’t commanded by it.

 

The fear of it,

of reality,

the unknown that lies in the core,

the gift of Adam,

the knowledge accompanied by your awakening,

the companion to your consciousness,

the one that remembers your vulnerability,

your wounds and your pains,

turn up the music so you can drown the rapidly increasing heartbeat of the counterpart to life,

known by all but kept quiet,

afraid to hear it, afraid to listen to it,

the bell tolls,

the reminder that is silenced by all the noise,

underneath the silence,

the death tolls ring.



Youtube: Learned Living

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/learned_living/

Poem: The Many Yous

Article: Indirect Battle Strategy and How It Can Help Us Overcome Our Own Obstacles

Short Story: Everything Work’s Itself Out

Poem: Outside/Inside

Outside, she sits pretty,

her pigtails tied with pink ribbons,

watching the green fields swell,

the wet droplets of spring shower worming into the damp soil,

her once innocent gaze follows the bee,

the bee which flirts with the sunflower,

her voice cracks, as she calls for rosy,

wishing to feel her warm belly,

rosy comes, waddling, tail wagging,

her belly as full as hers,

 

Inside, she thinks of him,

the tender touch,

the comforting words,

the fulfilling moment,

and now the lost presence,

the falseness,

 

Outside, mama calls,

“papa is almost home,” she says,

“mama please,”

 

Inside, she thinks,

trying to consummate the little she knew,

some nucleus of sense,

something she could deliver to make them understand,

her adolescent hopes,

 

Outside, her childlike eyes watched rosy sleep,

unbothered, untroubled, unabandoned,

 

Inside, her sullied thoughts wished to be rosy,

wishfully wishing that tomorrow will be better,

 

Outside, a child,

Inside, a woman.


Youtube: Learned Living

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/learned_living/

Poem: Electric Self-Help

Article: The Black Swan and Seeking Randomness

Short Story: Everything Work’s Itself Out

Poem: Electric Self-Help

We live in a detached age,

age of technology,

where the discomfort of being human is simply comforted,

detached from what’s necessary for your body,

(movement)

attached to what necessary for the ego,

(likes and follows)

constantly seeking distractions from oneself,

while grasping at that which takes you further away from your spirit.

 

Our age allows us to connect with others, in

a way that has never existed in human history,

yin and yang,

ancient wisdom,

with connection with others, comes

the disconnect with oneself.

 

The computer screen lets me see the injustice that just took place a second ago on the other side of the world,

it lets me feel your happiness,

share in your nervousness,

open my art to you.

 

Grateful to the age of technology.

 

The computer screen shapes my sight to see the beauty behind a screen while real beauty goes unseen,

it normalizes me to the clicking of keys but not to the chirping of birds,

it lets me hide my own sadness,

turns my sight from questioning my own nervousness,

distracts my mind as I commit injustices to my own body,

shapes my art trying to please others.

 

For all of that, I take responsi——

Self-help books, five ways to identify your feeling, stream of motivational quotes, “how to be like me”, three easy ways to find yourself, two steps to becoming yourself, this is what’s holding you back from reaching your potential, one easy solution to your problems, follow this to be that and so it goes.

Motivational talkers, influencers, self-help gurus,

every day a new one joins the fray trying to explain to you what you are doing wrong, what you need to be doing and how to do it,

giving you a blueprint to live your own life.

 

Show me the way,

tell me the way,

lead my life,

O, stranger.

 

Here, the detachment is evident.

(for you listen to these strangers with long beards and shiny watches and in doing so you quiet the sound of your own voice)

Detached from your self.

Detached from your body.

Detached from your spirit.

Detached from your soul.

 

Instead of asking yourself how you feel,

you seek the comfort of a strangers words,

becoming a stranger to yourself,

deaf to your body’s cries,

devoting yourself to other people’s instructions,

(hence, living someone else’s life).

 

Is that living?

matching your steps on the imprint of others,

mechanical,

robotic,

lifeless,

soulless,

marching in a straight line,

conveyor bed human,

hoping this is good enough,

afraid to think for yourself,

afraid to make mistakes,

afraid of what your body begs of you.

 

Ask yourself what do you need and hear your body tell you,

it doesn’t want a new necklace,

it simply wants to go for a walk,

it doesn’t want to eat again,

it just wishes to move around, to feel the breeze, to smell, to touch, to hear, to see,

it doesn’t want a new leather belt,

it simply wants to stretch,

(tight hips, tight back, a knot in the neck, elbow flames, shoulder pain but all of that is just a momentary thought before you distract yourself, before you quiet the body).

 

But, this is uncomfortable.

 

So, the moment your body begins to speak,

you begin to scroll,

or type away,

seeking bodily pleasure,

pleasure for your senses,

pleasure for right now,

age of immediate gratification,

gratifying your detachment.

 

But, be uncomfortable,

 

Ask yourself questions,

for you know what you want,

you know what you should be doing,

you know which actions make you feel good and which make you feel guilty,

you know yourself better than any human being will ever know you,

love yourself,

for yourself, do what is necessary.

 

But that phone flashes and takes your mind away,

that new video comes and takes 20 minutes of your life,

that new alert comes and you lose yourself,

that itch comes, where you reach for the device, almost unconsciously,

and your mind tells you its fine, 2 mins, 5 mins, you’ve done enough work, 10 mins, your checking up on the world, 20 mins, your friends, 30 mins, and break, end of scene, back after the intermission of seeing how your doing — and back to the next scene, 2 mins, 5 mins….

 

Happy right now.

 

The detachment between thought and action has always existed,

always planning on what you’ll do next,

but not doing,

using the mind but not the body,

amplified with the aid of the new age,

your body softens,

not knowing work,

you mind continues a pattern of hoping, planning, distraction, inaction, dreaming, hoping, one days and some days,

as you watch others living,

your darkroom full of flashes from the video of others experiencing life,

you feel accomplished through the accomplishment of others,

human nature,

our group is successful which means you are too,

but now we imagine the group to be the world,

so you can always find something to justify your opinions, habits, actions, as you continue rotting,

your body tired of talking turns to whispering and soon it’ll go mute for that is nature too,

why continue something that has no effect?

 

An article on productivity,

a video about things you missed in a movie,

a plea from your body to do something about your back pain,

which to follow?

what to do?

perhaps look up what a guru would do,

but it’s obvious which one you should do and yet,

 

Disconnected. Detached.

 

All one needs is themselves,

self-help,

self-love,

self-care,

self-discipline,

follow the self,

pain/pleasure, needs/wants of the self,

self wishes to move, to love, to care, to embrace, to speak, to listen, to hold hands, to laugh, to empathize, to connect, to attach, to see, to wonder, to do, to act, to live.

 

Detach for a moment and be in solitude,

alone with yourself,

the silence speaks and guides you,

connects you with your path,

walks with you as you act,

fills you with feelings and emotions,

uncomfortable and comfortable,

growth through this way is everlasting,

growth through someone else’s path is unstable,

pleasure derived from solitude is fulfilling,

pleasure from someone else’s actions is fleeting,

no one can tell you who you are, if

they don’t know you then how can they tell you what’s best for you?

you know yourself,

your body knows you,

true self-help is when you aim to please your flesh, your bones, your muscles, your tendons, your nerves, your blood, your heart, your mind, your spirit, your consciousness, your soul,

selfishly aiming at getting to know yourself,

not your neighbor across the world,

that comes after.

 

Step 1: Help your self.

 

Age of technology is beautiful,

but don’t forget the other ages,

Know thy self as it says on the temple in Delphi,

true now as it was before,

for the age is changing,

but we are still human,

the same as the ancient ones,

same needs and troubles, same fulfillment and harmony,

our forefathers and mothers discovered the importance of listening to their bodies, trusting their instincts, following their inner voices, applying their own logic and reasoning, building their own habits, disciplines and work ethic,

and through this, they created all that is known to man,

there was no Buddhism before Buddha,

thus, this should be your primary foundation,

yourself.


Youtube: Learned Living

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/learned_living/

Poem: Nero Dances

Article: Indirect Battle Strategy and How It Can Help Us Overcome Our Own Obstacles

Short Story: Everything Work’s Itself Out

 

 

 

Poem: Nero Dances

The changing times,

how come nothing matters anymore?

weekly the focus shits from one tragedy to the next,

the world is our playground,

the world is our entertainment,

the world is our story,

someone flip over the page,

forgetting what was read,

the forest still burns,

but a new phone, new food, new show comes,

with it goes the old concerns,

with it comes the weekly water cooler talk or group memes now,

kin to the gluttonous roman emperors,

pleasure-filled,

a week ago was Rome,

today slowly drips into the past,

your moral and cowardly concerns drip into the past,

your not moral enough, your now cowardly enough, your not equal enough,

tomorrow you shall have something else to feel superior about,

page flipped,

tomorrow you shall have something else to distract you,

“Did you see—”

page flipped,

tomorrow you shall have something else to hate,

“How could he—”

page flipped,

the forest still burns,

Nero plays the fiddle,

now he would have scrolled past,

double tap, maybe? retweet, maybe?

on to the next,

fiddle plays in the back,

Nero dances in the light of the fire,

page flipped.

Poem: Attention, Attention

Attention, attention,

what everyone seeks,

the hardest to get,

harder still to keep,

the new new is distracting,

each second the present becomes the past,

the new now the old,

the old now is ancient,

that’s how fast life moves,

faster than ever before.

 

Seeking attention? You’ll never find it.

Craving attention? You may get it.

But be careful what you wish for,

as it may come true,

but not in the way you like.

 

Ask Agamemnon what his cravings got him,

ask Alexander what his cravings got him,

ask Caesar what his cravings got him,

the dangers are ancient,

the problem is ancient,

the solution is ancient,

Aurelius is going to work.

 

Disregard the cravings and focus,

stay in the dark, son,

stay in the work, son,

and then they’ll come looking,

illuminating you and all of you,

if they shine light upon you and can look through you and see that your hollow,

then they’ll never come back,

if they shine the light and see the life that flows in every fiber, nerve, vein, atom, breath,

then they’ll keep you illuminated,

until your drained of it all.

 

Such is life,

such is the conundrum,

let yourself be engulfed with passion instead,

that fire which kills you keeps you warm at first,

keeps you alive at first,

keeps you shining at first,

in this way, others aren’t needed,

all is you.

Poem: The New Land To Conquer

What’s left to conquer?

Man’s ancestors have claimed all,

no matter how much you weep,

young Ceasar,

Nothing out there is for you.

 

What then?

gaze turned inwards,

you,

inside you is the unclaimed land where savages roam free,

no Alexanders or Khans can touch that,

wild and untamed,

awaiting the unrelenting spirit to come.

 

A spirit that is persistent,

willing to decay, in

the glorious attempt,

the final charge,

Napoleon

the last stand,

no three hundred but just one,

you.

 

Then, look not outside,

those of whom have the ambition to be called The Great,

as what will make you great lies inside of you,

conquer oneself and be immortalized, with

the few others who have accomplished such a thing,

individualism.

 

For more daily updates follow me on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/learned_living/