Changes

Posted on by anaspiringsomebody

September 6th, 2015:

There has come a point where the world has seen its inhabitants suffering. CNN presents a bombing one day.  On the next, you will see some live coverage of politicians slashing at each other’s career all with the justification that they’re doing the ‘right’ thing for Americans. What about if we change this standardized method of finger pointing and look out into the endless horizon? I goes like this. We get together, and openly discuss the good, the bad, the ugly, and the existential. We convey this thought through out endless fountains of knowledge, we educate the public, we…see what I mean? We outgrew this cardboard box, and we have let fear enter our sensitive souls. When I say change, this is what I mean.

Those Summer Nights

Posted on by anaspiringsomebody

August 18, 2015:

I sit here baffled, listless as the calm sea breeze caresses me head to toe. In the distance, the soothing touch of the Atlantic is the only sound for miles, muffling any foreign noises from other curious onlookers. This sanctuary is something we all share. Nature, that is. It’s just one entity we cannot dream without. Yet most see its beauty, but what about the rest of it? A quarter after 7, I was driving my Camry out of that weekly date with the local shrink, only to witness the potholes filled with the refuse of 10 or more. Two miles up the road, an receptacle waits to be put to use. I guess you’re probably thinking how relevant this is to your life, right? I may not know the answer, but all I feel is the everlasting damage we’re causing to this breathing organism. I believe that our apathy towards our world will drive us further away from what we supposedly want to preserve.  These captivating sights will be left in our virtual worlds of Instagram followed by an x-pro II for enhanced make up. Back to that receptacle though. Even when the refuse makes it in, where does that go?  Some landfill. That same landfill, built upon years of our negligent destruction, decomposing within our soil. Some will be let free to emulsify with the elements, destroy the same ecosystem that has seen our smiles, struggles, heartaches and heartfelt moments. All of that for a Kit Kat wrapper and a 72 oz Big Gulp. This is the cause of my heartache, the fire that fuels my despair, but man, this sure is captivating. I can see the bourgeoisie’s yachts. Little fireflies with the black sea bed reflecting off their energy. Small blips in the sky with curious passengers admiring the bright lights down below. Damn. All from one summer night.

There’s Not Enough

Posted on by anaspiringsomebody

August 3, 2015:

I have a tendency to sit and observe the world with open eyes, and nah, I don’t believe in taking things at face value. Even the smallest microcosm has a story. Why it’s there, how it impacts everything on a greater scale, so on, and so forth. We live in a generation where that new tv, the Iphone 6s, or the latest edition of Kanye’s clothing line is among our  top priority. You say we need a 40′ inch, yet we have a house to maintain, people to feed, adventures to be had. In our culture, it is never enough. It’s not that small microcosm, it’s that expensive Porsche. Not that kiss on the hand, but an unwearable diamond ring estimated at $4 million. People become numbers. Feelings become items. What about taking a breath and seeing those around you? That young woman sitting on the corner of 34th with the uncertainty of receiving a hot meal? Or that older couple who did everything for their children, only to be felt devoid of that same love in a lifeless nursing home. There’s more than enough items in our world. An abundance of technology. Artillery. Violence. Fights. Competition. But our world has to realize that the one thing we do not have enough of is the one thing we need the most. Love for one another. We can wait another day for the coach bag, yet that destitute individual on the street may not have a place to call home. We are expanding our living spaces, yet an increasing population of working folk are being taken away from their one story paradise. See where I’m getting at? Make a difference, show compassion. There’s never enough of that no matter what event unfold in our physical world.

Pardon the Delay: The Heart of the Worker

Posted on by anaspiringsomebody

August 3, 2015:

7:37 AM. Damn, how in the world will I get to work on time? I just got out of the previous one no more than fifteen minutes ago. I know it’s not my fault, but who the fuck is going to explain that to my supervisor? I can already hear the condescending droll in the back of my mind, “You are a waste of money. I have 300 other men that can take your place. Where’s your mind, Ethan? Don’t you care? I’m sure your family’d be pissed that Friday’s paycheck’s gonna be the last in years.” And the pleading begins, only to be shut down by, “Fuck off and don’t waste my time.”  Generic answer for the even more generic worker ant I presume. Guess it was another day. Another emotionally draining black and white day of basic survival. But today is a different story. I am sure of it. I punch out of the dull grey apparatus at five o clock prompt, only to speed in my jalopy down the greyed and blacked commuter freeway. Left on Rogue. North on the turnpike for 30 miles. And voila, the smell of rank disposables clutch the air like smogs clog the sun. The other half of my existence. Without an utterance, the obese rice ball in a suit points to my section. I open it, and there they are. Mounds of old toys, appliances, and any other refuse for me to carry from one side of the yard to the other. Load. Unload. Load. Unload. No benefits for me, just your usual $400, if you’re lucky. Sometimes eight hours, sometimes 12. Three days and less than an hour of sleep. I guess this is happiness for you. The daily struggle to one day find that shred of happiness. It is 8:01 now, haven’t left. And you know what? Pardon the fucking delay. 

After the Blue Moon

Posted on by anaspiringsomebody

July 31, 2015

 

Light has risen within me like a white dove experiencing its rebirth. It’s beautiful. Maybe it’s the weather. The yoga. The meditation. Who knows honestly. All I know is that Blue Moon. That blue moon’s got some undeniable power or something. It made me see a side of me that I have not been able to spot in  a long time. Happiness. Drive. Dedication. Hope. Dreams. Well, I assume it’s about time I picked up a pen and paper. I’ve always enjoyed it anyway to be honest. Heh. I wish things were still 25 cents. I bet that if you stepped back into that era, the New Yorker would have been pristine. Smiling concierges, bright-eyed receptionists, and rooms that did not look like dilapidated shadows. Ugh. The humdrum of present day.

A New Beginning

Posted on by anaspiringsomebody

July 20th, 2015:

 

Let the flames bring a cleansing to my soul. An old spirit, but one that can free itself from the inner turmoil that plagues us all in this eternal oppression. I am in a new life, a new body, a new universe. I will live with it with no quarrels. I am the highest embodiment of love. Let this love emit to those who are in need, those who are finding their path, those who need that underlying strength.

There is no right or wrong way to living your dreams, just live em’.

The Woman

Posted on by anaspiringsomebody

She is here to save me once again,
A reminder of her unfulfilled past bestowed upon my essence.

Obsidian Polish pipe in one hand, glass of scotch poised in the other.
Her delicate silhouette melding with the physical, her soul imploding as the bitterness intrudes.
Not one patron knows her name, but all have felt her presence.

Wishful thinking fills her mind, longing for those images to come back.
His soulful eyes, his unassuming presence, his feint smell of cheap cologne.
Ten minutes pass and the laundry lists cease to stop.
He is her balance, but she continues to escape.
The land of dark abysses, her comfort, all she has ever known.