Don't second guess yourself.
If you feel it, if you taste it, if you can't escape it, embrace it.
Everyone has a passion. Some of us are consumers, indulging in things or experiences. Some of us are producers, people who have a drive to create things. Some of us are both, but nearly all of us has a passion. All of us has something we are passionate about.
Is there something you can't live without? Is there something that motivates you against your will? There are good addictions and there are bad addictions. Bad addictions destroy you. Good addictions sustain you. They can be hobbies, they can be interests, they are things that make you happy and help you reconnect with yourself. Often, it is when we are enraptured in our passions that we feel most alive.
In the hustle and bustle of contemporary reality, it is sometimes hard to find the energy and the time to feed those passions. We feel the drive, we feel the desires, but we convince ourselves there are more worth-while things to be done. That is you denying yourself. That is your heart telling you what you need. It's a hunger - feed it!
This life is a gift. That means it has been given to you and you own it, so you do whatever you wish with it. Would you rather pursue your passions and fail or never pursue them and never unlock your full potential? Don't be afraid to stop EVERYTHING and GO!!!
In the hustle and bustle of contemporary reality, it is sometimes hard to find the energy and the time to feed those passions. We feel the drive, we feel the desires, but we convince ourselves there are more worth-while things to be done. That is you denying yourself. That is your heart telling you what you need. It's a hunger - feed it!
This life is a gift. That means it has been given to you and you own it, so you do whatever you wish with it. Would you rather pursue your passions and fail or never pursue them and never unlock your full potential? Don't be afraid to stop EVERYTHING and GO!!!
Book signing for DBAM at Stony Brook University
Omasum
The iridescent taffeta
that covers my stain glass bones
Builds a wickiup
of plasma that smolders and corrodes
And this algid
patina that covers my radiant face
Keeps from the world
the smile that it scolds.
In the black
and white albedo of a lunatic sphere
That bleeds a
curious complexion, both brutal and queer,
Its prism projects
molten opal upon the cardboard race,
Who communicate with
buttoned lips and listen with biased ears.
While they fold in
their lackadaisical limbs,
Taking off their
hats, splitting their lips upon the brims,
I cast my
crystal cobwebs across their noses in disgrace,
Listening as gravity crinkles
my thorny heart like tin.
I can hear its asperous
teeth dig into it like pi
As that morose
masquerading marionette in the sky
Continues to
encircle me, soldering my carcass in place,
As the golems
peregrinate around the apocryphal sty.
Listening to the
masticating music as it unfolds,
Transcending the
bitter warmth and sweltering cold
Until a dynamic paralysis
trickles into the case
Of alligator skin
that covets this once human mold.
And what I knew of
longing seems to gangrene into fear.
That gentle
glow has turned to tarp, through which I’m forced to peer
Upon a smithereen
of what was once my cosmic base,
Which I snatch up starvingly like
a begrudged souvenir
Until that nimbus
vulture that emblazons my chagrin,
Hovering like
a noxious conversation that’s been drawn too thin,
Bursts like an
aneurism, cascading naked shards of space
That land upon my
gasoline tongue, quite saccharine.
And I taste the
aureola, combusted before my elytroid eyes;
And I collapse onto a padded pedestal, whose pain is amplified;
And as my
heart gallops off, its bent-in bruises throttle its pace,
Until it too is
smeared across the flippant canvas and dies.
There I fall like
argyle rain
In the foyer of
consequential refrain,
Collecting
like autumn leaves
In puddles of
psychedelic disdain.
I cachinnate at
all the almighty delusions I sought to free,
Yet
I still pursue the jaundiced cud that trundles out of me.
Shout Out
I met a guy through the grapevine who has his own poetry blog and is trying to get people excited about his writing, especially his new book. His name is Plot 121 and his work spans a large swathe of themes. Check out his blog and support your local artists. Much love.
