You may be successful but you may not be happy. You may be happy but not successful. You may have tons of friends and feel lonely. Or you may no friends and feel content. You may have it all and still want more, you may be totally broke and grateful for the little you have. You may be educated and clueless. You may know more than most and never entered a school hall. Life’s a paradox, enjoy the ride.
I was worried but I forgot what I was worried about and now I’m worrying about what I forgot about.
An endless sea of swirling thoughts and I worry if I don’t write this down I’ll worry more and I may not sleep and spend another day worrying.
A ping pong sequence in my brain, day in day out. And I’m worried that…
Oh social media..
Somedays I’m high off your vibes
A notification here, a message there, oh someone liked my post and even commented
So much activity and so much to absorb
Seeing people through the lens of what they choose to post but it’s not reality,no one’s hitting home runs every day
I’m feeling great, my head’s a buzzing..
But suddenly the likes fade, the messages cease and I wonder if I’ve been forgotten. Maybe I should scroll more? No, that will make me even more anxious
I no longer feel as happier as I did an hour ago, I feel worse, I feel frustrated at people I don’t even know
The high is gone and I’m coming down.
Crash and burn and I want to hide away.
Fucking addiction, the one who run this place I hate them, they know what they’re doing.
I say I’m done for a while, of course, I wake up the next day and start all over again, woe is me when this post goes unnoticed ..
Creative outbursts that have been buried for months; hybernating, but all this time it’s been there. inspiration out of nowhere, melancholy words pour from my fingertips to the page before me, maybe it’s the raindrops out of my window or the song I’m listening to, just felt like writing this feeling for posterity and maybe i’m not alone. Is this resonating with you at all? Is it even resonating within myself? Who knows but so it is and how it will continue to be..
We show the world a carefully curated version of ourselves, one that beams the best possible version we want others to see, the lights, the red carpet, a star to the rest of the world, our own PR firm. We must always be in the best light, never flawed, always looking good, close up of the smile and a wink to the camera. After the camera fades, so does that smile and it darkens. You’re by yourself with your own thoughts and no you’re not perfect; not even close; you’re you. And the only one that knows is the one you see in the mirror. Perception; a blessing and a curse, isn’t?
There’s something magical about the weirdness, the unknown, the unexplained, the mystery unravels. where did this come from? Who made this? And what do we do with it? I don’t want to know, let it remain mysterious. Art, beautiful art,, from so long ago, such a long time ago. Let me swim in the sea of confusion as I drown in my own thoughts…
Things change too quickly. You want to go back to a time when you were younger, even if it was a few years back. You want to go back to when those around were younger, you had more time with them, you knew to expect but things are different now. We’re all older, life has moved on, that house you knew has been sold, your friends have moved on to different chapters of their life, the places and people you knew have changed beyond recognition and you feel stuck. Just memories remain and the inability to move forward no matter how much you write the same things you replay the same thoughts in your head until you figure it out..
It’s so funny how you can remember conversations you heard from years ago, conversations that aren’t relevant at all, yet they somehow stay in your mind. About 20 years I was in 12 steps and I’d always go to this meeting on Friday night, it was full of young people my age. And sometimes you might see some older people there who usually sponsored some of the young adults. After the meeting, we’d all go out in the parking lot, smoke, and talk. I was sitting by my car, kind of shy and looking for someone to talk to, I had a moment of loneliness, in that group I didn’t have a lot of friends in that and so I’m not sure why I continued to go but that’s a different story. Anyways next to me was this middle age guy in his early 50’s ( who was someone who always talkative with me) who was talking to a young girl in her 20s. She was explaining how she didn’t understand the appeal of Pink Floyd and the older guy was explaining to her how much the music meant to him, especially “Comfortably numb” when he was using during his depression, it helped him make sense of things. I was just listening in and didn’t participate in the conversation. I had this point hadn’t listened to a lot of Pink Floyd’s music but a few weeks later, there was a get together at this other guy’s house who had a band and he was playing “Wish you were here” by Pink Floyd and the music really resonated with me because I had lost my brother a few years back and something just hit me at that moment. So those two experiences with that group collided and so everytime I hear Pink Floyd, I think back to that little conversation between two people in that church parking lot 20 years and proves as a reminder of the power of music and how we can connect that way, even if we have nothing else in common..
Thinking back to places In my mind, people I once knew, parts of town I spent time in. I think about the stories that place could tell. Fun times with friends, long lonely nights under the street lights. Relationships, heartbreak.But time changes whether we want it to or not. Friends we know, drift out of lives and we make new relationships, circumstances change, the places we knew because of just fuzzy memories. Lively shops become abandoned storefronts..They were once full of life, full of people coming and going but they are now nonexistent, lost to time. Finding new faces, new stories. The revolving door of life. Changes. Damn, do they change, they sure do. But we carry on and hope the best as the future unfolds…..
Often recycled thoughts and written memories, rehashed in my head. Memories of long summer nights, dried sweat from the heat, the sound of crickets and the flash of fireflies outside, distant kids swimming, diving, and splashing in the pool but I swim during the day. When it gets dark, I’m home, watching MTV all night, playing Mario Kart with my brother ( the smell of cigarette smoke coming from his army jacket) or alone with my thoughts wondering where he’s at. No one else stops by, so it’s just me but I’m used to it by now. Recycled bittersweet memories, forgive me if I repeat myself, just tape loops as I lay awake tonight..