Whats Wrong?

My eyes feel like their bleeding
Dripping from page to page
I can’t stop the seeping because
My stress level is high
My list of things to do is higher
I don’t really know what to do

My body feels like its breaking down
Piece by piece
I turn away from the pain
I feel in some way I need it
Like it makes me better
But maybe not when my body is screaming

My eyes feel like their bleeding
and I can’t stop looking at the screen
Words being written
So many people to please
I hope this end soon
That I escape from this dream
but who knows, I asked for this

The World In The Life Of A Guy – Part 12 – Putting Two Together

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Before I start, I wanted to say that this series has been a great way to reflect on the various ways men and women are different, as well as how those differences really impact how we go through the world.  After this post, I want to take a bit of time away from this series as a means to collect myself and to try new regularized topics to write about, I will come back intermittently to post about these topics, but after a year I am ready to try something new. Thank you for following along with this, I have enjoyed it.

As I started, so shall I end.  With sex and relationships.

I’ve spent a long time asking women my age about their relationship experiences, what it is like to be with a guy, and for what they tell me, I’m surprised a lot of them keep wanting to be in one. Stories I’ve heard, go into great detail about the enormous breaches of personal trust and faith in the partners they were with.  Stories of being forced or compelled to do things they didn’t want to do, harassed or abused, or even worse.  The stories were not all doom and gloom, but the sheer regularity of these negative experiences among people I have talked to is disheartening.  With each stories told to me the list of things that haunted me.  Haunt me, telling me of what I could be, but compelling me to go out to heal and not to hurt.  I don’t shy away from these stories, and I am supremely grateful for those who have shared their experiences with me, it keeps me aware of how bad it could be. In the end what bothers me how people can people can think so little of others, or feel entitled to something that should be shared. The bar for relationships a lot of women is a lot lower than it should be.  Women aren’t perfect, women are just people, and should at least be treated with the decency of an ordinary person, and sometimes they fight to get that much.

It makes me fear my own missteps, vivid things I may have done better. Progress is all about learning from my mistakes, to be better but with people and keep moving forward. Through it all, I’ve got scars on my heart from it, scars that seem to be growing and I don’t know what to do.

I think I’m afraid of sex, that powerful act that like a void, never seems to be satiated completely.  I think I always have been.  I can give you every excuse in the book for this fear, my religious upbringing, my less than stellar early life experiences with girls, or just the world of cold videos of porn on the internet but each of these would just seem to be a contributor or symptom of a much bigger issue.

Expression.

My experiences have taught me to that care is to give, and what else is there to give but myself.  I gave up pieces of myself to appease people early on.  Destroyed bits of my heart and soul to be okay with it.  I remember in high school, among the many strange things that happened to me was a girl. I had liked her at some point, and she had liked me, but the only thing was that our timing or wanting to be with each other ended up being off.  In liking me, she wanted express that in some way, so she ended up sending naked pictures of herself to me.  This is where curiosity kills, this might sound weird, but the curious part of me wanted to know more, but my heart and soul weren’t in it resisting me, telling me to stop this, that doing this was hurting me and wasn’t right.  She knew that I didn’t want a relationship because I told her that I wasn’t interested but she kept on with it (though I should have been more active to stop it). I didn’t though, not directly because I had always been told this was a good thing and that I should savor it and enjoy it even though it killed me inside. At the end of it all, in some strange way, it felt like someone was at least expressing that they wanted me to be that person in my life which felt good and started me down this road.

The experience sticks with me because it was the first of a lot of experiences that felt just not right for me. I may go into detail another time but for now, the point is I’ve had my fair share of good bad experiences, and it’s what I learned though that matters. In some way, I think most guys see similarly to me, that sex and sexual things are a form of intimacy and expression.  It is about power, desire, and in the best of times love.  The little voice in our head whispering that the only way to feel the connection is through that expression of two bodies of self. That the negation of advances recounts itself as a rejection of this expression and a rejection of expression means a rejection of self.
This type of thinking is ridiculous, but when feeling and desire is only expressed through such limited avenues, how else is that to come off.

This is why I am so afraid of sex because to me, its a giving of myself, leaving myself open and yet it can so quickly be given and taken from you. It can become from meaningful to meaningless swiftly and easily. Why would I want to do that to myself, to satiate if not only temporarily the urges that my body afflicts upon me? Used as a mechanism to fill the void of lonely disregard of heart, a cry for help and a stopgap for meaning.  Each time disregarded, carves away at our heart so that less and less of it comes back to us.  I want something more because I know more is out there.  I want to be open to the love of a different kind and nature. Expression of which can comes in different types and forms still foreign and mysterious to me. I don’t want it to be only about sex, there should always be more to it.

We keep coming back to relationships though, after each of our experiences to try again.  I don’t know why, I don’t understand it and I know I won’t go for a while but we keep trying out there, hoping and working for change.  The world of girls and guys is different in a lot of ways but this one is the same, we want a better future and we are, if not slowly, moving towards it together. I hope it will be one we can be proud of.

Save The Crop: Feed The Earth

I can see a field of flowers in my mind.  Strung across a vast expanse, blooming fields flowers lead the way on an accompanying path that only speaks of life.  The path extends outwards toward the horizon, but as I leave the path, the flowers seem to struggle to press on.  Less and less they grow, and the healthy bloom gives way to fallow land.  This dirt is just as robust as the others, but its empty. Why is this field empty, flowers are able to grow. This field was empty because no one took the time to sow.

I’ve never been especially stellar at relationships.  It’s certainly not from a lack of feeling. My problem lies within the action. Like a burning flame, the father I get from them, the harder it is to remember the warmth. The fire is always there, burning red hot, flickering in the darkness, it’s just about stoking the fire even though I might not close to it. I feel at times like I become a ghost, a piece of fiction until I am seen.  I grew up this way because the relationships around me felt largely part-time.  As if my existence required me not to get too close, because too close can cause pain, and energy and I needed all the energy I had to keep me from the pain. I know it sounds dramatic but when you’re not involved with anything you had now way of being let down.  It’s not a great way of thinking, a personal flaw I never intended to have but one I have to contend with regularly.  What troubles me though is this growing bud, resting within my heart that calls out to tend the garden of good relationships I have the great fortune to have.  Allow them to take root and grow. Grow so that it can bear fruit and transist itself into something much more than the sum of its parts.  There are so many people around me who bring light into my life, and it’s shameful that I do not put more effort into cultivating these beautiful relationships. So now comes the time to do away with the ghost and shed light on the myth, to come out from hiding and be accountable for my inaction.

I am growing up slowly and I look around to realize that there are some things I have always wanted, somethings money cannot simply buy or find. I will chase these things, and do better than the me of yesterday as it always comes down to where we invest our time because most of the work in relationships is just showing up. There is a saying “The best time to plant a tree was twenty years ago, and the next best time is today.” So here’s my pledge, to sow the seeds of the future, let the fields of flowers bloom, tend the gardens of relationships, so that the path might not simply be gilded but shine brightly with the sight of a full life.

I Think My Phone Is Trying To Kill Me

It sits there taunting me
Asking me to play
I slowly reach over
And begin my day

On and off the screen goes
With it in my pocket
Tracking every move
I know it’s trying to kill me,
I just need to figure out how

Maybe poisoning my mind with all sorts of stuff
Showing me picture and videos of things I don’t need
Until I can’t even think anymore
It finally just succeeds

Maybe it will be more blatant like shock
With a slip up I find
When the camera facing inward
It leaves me wanting to be blind

Maybe it is to just  make me unaware
Walking down the sidewalk
Watching a video, it seems
Might be my undoing when hit a pole with ease

My phones trying to kill me
And I can’t figure out how
Because each time I use it
It feels like I am dying a little on the inside.

A Loss Of Things To Do – Boredom​

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It feels like I am sleeping, my eyes feel heavy because there is nothing to rouse them awake.  I feel this need to pass my days quickly even though nothing is awaiting me on the other side of the morning.  It has begun, my body breaking down, my mind slowing and things become dreary.  It’s like the energy is sucked out of me, and I am empty. This is what boredom feels like to me, death.    I am fighting against this apathy, trying to find my way back from the quicksand that empty time is but what I find is a seductive force, that wants to keep you locked into that state of mind, locked into the nothing that comes with it.  I know that there is a time limit to my affliction, once I get back to school things will resume, but I must find the power to do the things need to accomplish between now and then.  I have a list of things to do, that will only get bigger if I decided just to lay around and think.  This corrosive force attacks my spirit and soul leaving me in a bad mood, and feeling worse. Like a disease of the mind, it may go into remission but is always waiting its chance to resurface with a vengeance.  What shall I do to combat this, how can I win? I provide structure, discipline but I am on shaky footing. These habits I create though useful act as though they are the stand-ins for my real habits. In this time period, without that structure, I can lose more than just time, but also my inertia to get through school the way I want to.
I need to fight and push past these barriers, kick this demotivation into next week, find the time and use it towards something I know at the end of the day will make me happy. This boredom can be used, turned around and worked.  I can use what I have been given to grow even stronger and move even faster.  Use this boredom as a blessing, to find strategies for the future, learn what makes me tick, and what I need to keep at it.
Soon enough my break will be over, and school will come once more. The way I see it, I can either find myself entering school, knowing I could have done more and accomplished much, or I can enter school knowing I acted upon these feelings and impulses that insist that I move, I go, I get out of bed and start working.  All I need to do is listen to that voice in my heart that is yelling at me to get out there and live the life I have always wanted to lead because what is better than doing things tomorrow, is doing them today.

The World In The Life Of A Guy: Part 11 – Talk And Listen and Lessons On Intention

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It’s easy to imagine the difference between how men and women talk to one another.  It’s thought that men speak directly, get straight to the point and don’t mince words with one another. Whereas women, speak more, and in a less straight to the point manner, but in a way that will explain the whole circumstance and scenario.  The strange thing is the thing I learned from one of my psychology professors in my undergrad, that men and women speak the same amount as one another.
How is that possible though, if men are so “direct” than how is it that we talk about the same amount as women.  I am probably not a good example of this because I talk too much but where there do these extra words go and what exactly do we talk about? In my experience, a lot of the same things, the same worries about the future, and personal interests.
There is, however, a disconnect between these words and who we talk to.  Men talk to women more than they will talk to other men and are more willing to reveal personal information to women.  The strange thing is that this paradigm doesn’t work both ways, women talk to other women about personal things.  I think this has bothered my a lot of my life, being left out of these conversations by my mom, sisters, and female friends.  With my love of people, I am always fascinated by the comings, going and stories of others, but I am at times restricted because of the nature of these paradigms. I think it’s also that we let men off the hook when it comes to emotions, never giving the chance to find that emotional outlet through works or expression, leading conversations of that sort to be taboo or considered a nuisance which also points to the difference in the way we speak to each other.
Why is that, why is there such a divide? I think for guys, we are looking for the point, the reason for the story. We tell stories to make a point about something and are taught to do it this way as a mechanism to save everyone’s time and effort. Where for women, the point is the story itself, the way it twists and turns, there may not be a problem to resolve but this something conveyed by the story that would lose it impacts if it was not told. This becomes a problem when these two types of speaking mix. When women talk to men, men lose themselves in the story because they are looking for the singular purpose, and women start to feel like they aren’t being listened to because men will give up after a time of not finding what they want.  Men talking to women, women feel as though they are not conveying the feelings or the full extent of the story, just the highlighted details which are not enough to get the full picture, and men get frustrated after the story is told and women ask for more.  All and all, it can be frustrating to talk when it appears that the other person isn’t on the same page as you.
There is a benefit to both of these types of speech and are useful in their own ways, but it’s essential for us to bridge the gap, learn each other’s language and be patient with how the other person speaks.  We learn and find ways to communicate in this world and though we are different, we can celebrate our differences, especially because it allows us to get a different perspective on the world.  Coming together and communcating is what gives us a leg up in this crazy world of ours, so lets talk.

The Weight of Nothing

My body feels rugged
Beaten and bruised
Heavy and slow
I though have not fought it
Quite the opposite,
I fed the fires that burned within
Unquenchable and everlasting

As my appetite reaches the level of unsatiable
My hunger growl at me for more
It emptied me out
Makes me feel spent
Even from the moment of arising
I feel my body is resisting me, resisting life

I don’t know
What will cure me
But I am looking
And here’s hoping

I find it soon.