We Often Cross The Lines We Draw

Short film based on the poem of the same name.
Directed and edited by Andrew DesGaines.

The trials of self-injury can be devastating and difficult to face. The story describes one man’s struggle to overcome his addiction. There is a fine line between control and self-destruction. You can overcome.

NEITHER THE AUTHOR, DIRECTOR, NOR ANYONE ELSE PORTRAYED IN OR CONNECTED TO THIS FILM CONDONE SELF-INJURY. IF YOU OR SOMEONE YOU KNOW IS CUTTING, SEEK HELP IMMEDIATELY. PLEASE DON’T HURT YOURSELF.

Being Vulnerable

Many people know me on the Long Island and NYC poetry and spoken word circuit as a calm, confident, and outgoing performer. I've been described as bubbly, charismatic, and extroverted; I love meeting new people and jumping right into fresh, novel situations. I try to maintain an air of positivity and humbleness... and to smile. Most people would consider me a happy person, which I most certainly am, and a bit of a joker.

This is by no means a farce. In all sincerity, I am a very happy person. I look around me and find that I am surrounded by so many beautiful people, by so many beautiful things. I feel loved and show love to as many people as I can, stranger or friend. I feel so blessed in my day to day life, and it creates such a wonderful space to be creative in. I strive to put forth ideas of good, right, openness, and beneficence - to exemplify the best of humanity.

What most people - friends, acquaintances, family, lovers - probably don't know is that I struggle.

Each and every day.

Although I may give off an air of stoic positivity, unshakable confidence, and childlike joy, I often feel incredibly alone. I feel utterly broken.

Again, the positivity and happiness people perceive in me is not at all synthetic. It is not a mask or a suit I put on when I'm out in the open, when I'm behind a mic. What you see is what you get. I am an open and honest person, and that is one of the reasons why I am writing this.

There is a risk you run when you choose to love people selflessly. (The original title of this blog was "Agápē Bodhisattva." The Greek word for "unconditional love," Agápē is something I take quite seriously.) It can be exhaustive and nonreciprocal. It can be taken advantage of and be misinterpreted. Riskier still, in intimate relationships, it can create friction, misunderstanding, and lead to obsessive behavior. I obsess. I have to resist the urge to stalk. These are some of the things I struggle with.

I do a lot of work in the field of mental illness, particularly in suicide prevention and depression. This may be partly motivated by this looming sense of incompleteness that follows me around, like a shadow of my shadow. There have been times in my life where I have reflected on the thought of ending my life, sometimes for days on end. Just meditating on it. Stewing in it.

Sometimes the anxiety is too much to bear.

Honestly, poetry readings, open mics, and performances help me to manage my endlessly reeling mind, stopping it from thinking of the past and fretting over the future. Being surrounded by people who enjoy what this fucked up brain of mine cooks up amidst fighting with a heart that is growing infinity bigger than it could ever hope to become has probably kept me alive. I feel broken. I feel lonesome. But I don't let that conquer me.

I'm here to tell you that no matter what you feel inside, no matter how broken, useless, hopeless, ugly, lonesome, listless, longing, brokenhearted, damaged, and otherwise undeserving you feel, things do get better. Although the moments of goodness and beauty seem few and far between, live for those moments, look for them, because they will help you to realize that there is so much more than hurt. We're all a little bit selfish - that's ok. We all feel worthless - you're not.

It's not about what we deserve, it's about what we're worth to ourselves.

I'm broken. I'm lonesome. But I'm alive. And being alive is the only excuse you need to say that things get better. Being alive makes you more blessed than you could comprehend. Happiness is possible. There is a moment out there waiting for you, to help you realize what really matters.

Don't let your darkness take your light. Do let it make you see it. They are one.    

Destructive Criticism: The Worst Decision

A lot of people are self-defeating. We take external pressures, flaws inherent in others that are too often deposited on ourselves, and allow them to persuade us to change. We attempt to conform to the demands of society, the people around us, or even global trends without a thought for the consequences. There are a lot of people walking around with a skewed sense of self - a definition of identity built from years of constantly attempting to quell the murmurs of others. As a result, many of us are disillusioned and unhappy, and are sincerely unaware as to why. We have inadvertently and systematically killed ourselves.

A path to find yourself...

All ultra-violence aside, a flawed self-identity is precisely the catalyst that leads to flaws in the self-identities of others. When we are unhappy with who we are, we impart onto others that unhappiness, which breeds further self-damaging behavior in both parties. One is far too often the cause of their own demise and the seed-sower of others'.

With the harkening of 2013 upon us, a time for unkept resolutions, it is time you began listening to who you are and began committing to your own sense of self. When others pressure you to conform or modify to fit their moulds, instead of objectifying yourself to pull out the "flaws," fortify the uniquenesses you know and strengthen the self you deserve to be. Idolize yourself, learn to love every "mistake" and "shortcoming" that makes you you, and commit to changing things about yourself for you and no one else. You must make it a habit; the self is in a constant state of construction, of becoming. You have the potential to be your own messiah or your own murderer.

Down, but not out!

In the end, 

it's you who listens to the bullshit others have to say.             

The Worst Decision

Death is not an easy prize to gain:

You can’t just fill out the slip and,

‘Please, clearly sign your name.’

Suicide is not something I would prescribe,

No matter how you deem it worth the loss,

There’s no reason you should have to die.

Hold tight to what you have,

It's more than just evolving remnants of mom and dad,

It's choices that carve up the past

And shape the future

That only you can make last.

May I proceed to cure the beast,

To solidify the righteousness conceived?

Are these the weights you wish to bequeath,

To pin the guilty hand on me?

Ring you out like a sponge;

Set you off like a gun;

Sever the cord of a broken spine;

You’re a book, but they judge what lies inside.

Whet the palette and rub the scars.

Dig your own grave to reach for the stars.

Sharpen a knife on a fork;

Buy into family, but shoot down the stork.

Bundled up peace – beat like a dog.

Swallow the key – sleep like a log.

Let go of all the things you've lost.

Don’t kill yourself to survive the battles fought.

Self-destruction stops permanent construction;

Soul disjunction nullifies finding your function.

Never choose to be the victim or the killer,

Or, even, the weapon of your own murder.