Revitalization’s Weblog
For the curious, questioning, and wandering soulArchive for Death
Dark. Black. Possibility.
Sometimes I wrap my hands across my eyes and peer into the black. I see abyss. Dark. Black. Possibility.
I see what I could be. I envision something… different.
I see a little girl, frolicking on the dusty street in her faded dress and bare feet. I see a newborn baby, with soft pink eyes shut tight, dreaming of light and sound. I see a young man dropped to the ground with his head in his palms, broken. I see a child peeking around the corner, only to catch a glimpse of golden light pouring through glass windows. I see a woman running along the tides, thunder rumbles behind as her hair whips back in the wind.
I envision something… desperate, something forgotten
For a moment the earth has slowed down, the mind settles, and all that matters are deep breaths of pure, cold air.
I imagine I’m sitting at a cafe, under an awning. It’s raining. It’s night. I’m just sitting there, breathing in that clean, crisp smell. The water falls on cobblestone roads, as the yellow streetlights reflect across the pavement.
It’s a quiet rain. A heavy mist.
It seems like everything is calm, for a moment. For a moment the earth has slowed down, the mind settles, and all that matters are deep breaths of pure, cold air.
blind yourself
life is about distracting yourself. Blinding yourself. Making yourself look away from the harsh truth that death is.
Death is
harsh
blunt
lonely
cold
eye-OPENing
you are the only you that the world will ever see
so be amazing
there are people out there waiting for you to be amazing
You have yourself. So have yourself. Be yourself.
you know… it’s about a lot. and this might just be bullshit, but hey who knows, it might be true…
today, i just feel like writing, and i just feel like there might be someone listening. I feel like, if anything, I could be listening! I will listen. listen up self.
it’s about a lot. life, i mean. life’s about a lot, and it’s about realizing that life’s not short. LIFE IS LONG. Life is long, and hard, and beautiful, and tough, and crazy, and at the end, we may want more. I mean, quenching a thirst for life, I don’t think that even exists- you gotta want more and more, and at the end, you feel like wow, it’s done. life’s done? i mean…. really? how can that be? And i hope that once i get to that point, when I’m saying Wow, life’s done, and this is done, i hope that… well i hope that i had a great one. One that i can be happy with, and feel fulfilled. Not financially, or professionally, or superficially… but internally, and simply happy. content with what i’ve become. content with what has happened.
Life is long. and… while i fear a lot… i fear that everything won’t happen for me… i fear that i made mistakes.. i fear that i won’t have enough time… i have to believe that it will happen for me, and that while i have made mistakes, there is time and it will happen. it will come.
It will come. Will it come? I think we have to believe that it will. I think there is no other way to live. Because to live in fear, doubt, and frustration… well that’s no way to live. Oh sure, fleeting doubt and fear, it comes, but it should go. let it go.
Let it go. And hold onto hope, and believe that it will come. Because, if anything, trust in the fact that you have yourself, if nothing else, and if no one else, you have yourself. And that’s special. That’s unique, and undeniable. That’s remarkable, and no one can take that away from you, even after it’s all over. Even after death, you have yourself.
You have yourself. So have yourself. Be yourself. Be honest with yourself. Because in the end, things break, people leave, and the world turns- and if there is nothing left, nothing at all, you have you. You have you, and that’s remarkable. So trust in yourself, trust in life, trust in promise, trust in the human condition, trust in you that: it’s about a lot, and while life is long, it will come. So let it go because you have yourself. Undeniably.
Why do we get to be?
Fragments. Fragmented, cut up, broken. It’s what we know. These sharp shards of all that we know sit in our minds, and somehow we cope. I mean I don’t really get it… I don’t get how I can live in this world, and accept that I don’t, and will never understand everything. I don’t get how I can live in this world, and walk the same paths, and do the same things, and see the same people, and not understand everything. Honestly.
We come into this world, a screaming pink ball, so angry that we had to come out of that comfort place, that beautiful warm womb. We come into this world, and are expected to adapt. And grow. And accept. Accept all that we see, and all that is, we must accept it because it is here, and it is real, as real as we know. And because it is here and because we can see it, touch it, feel it, it is real, and that’s all that matters. So we live in this world.
We live with these fragments. Fragments of what life is. Fragments of what “human” means. Fragments of a higher power that is all knowning. Fragments of an eternalness of it all. Fragments of the universe that we somehow, somehow are a part of, without even acknowledging it, we are, we are a part of it. Fundamentally, and essentially. It is unquestioning. Right? Maybe.
I just don’t get it. I mean, I get that there is life, and there is us, because I am here, at least in this moment I think I am, and I think that’s good enough to acknowledge that this is true. Right now is happening, at least we think it is. But, in essence, what does it matter if it truly is or isn’t. Because thought, and agreement that what is, IS, well that makes things real. And so I am sitting here, real. I am real, and you are real, and we are living in this world together, as we imagine it and percieve it, and how we see it makes it how it is, because that is all we know. And so we sit here, together, in this world, seeing, living, breathing, and nothing.
No questions. No demands for answers! NOTHING! I don’t get it! I don’t get how people are just “OK” with this. This reality- people accept it, undeniably. As if this is real, because it is what we know. There is no questioning. None. There is no question about why! There are no questions about us, and the universe, and where we come from- where these personalities, and thoughts, these complex and unique thoughts come from. Sure, from DNA, from genes, from biology, but why? Why do we have capabilities to be? To be freely thinking and moving? Why do we get to be?
Why do we get to be?
I guess that’s the question right there. And, if we get to be, and I think most would agree, at least those who are, that we are, right now, right here, we are. And if we are, and we get to be, and maybe it’s this wonderful gift, maybe it’s a mistake, maybe it just is, then why do we get to die? Why do we have to die? Why do we get to live and get to die- it should be really one or the other. But then again, who I am to say what things “should” be like. Haha, it’s comical really, to think that we can suggest how things “should” be, when we have no control over how things are. We are just thrown into this reality, and are expected to accept it, and to just be “ok” with the fact that we get to live and we get to die.
So why do we get to be? And why do we get to die?
That warmth that fills your heart with hot red blood
And you stand with hair pulled back, and your hands are pressing against your ears, and all you can hear is the pattering sound of water on your skull, your cranium, your mind. And then the water rushes in, and fills all voids, swishes around and around in your mind, warm and fuzzy. Warm lights. Yellows and orange, it’s so peaceful, as if in back in the womb, when there was absolutely nothing, where there was just warmth, and light, and dim echoes of sounds, and the comforting sound of a mother’s heartbeat, of a mother’s voice. And your eyes are closed, and a slight smile sits on your lips, and you are cared for, and loved, and all is wondrful and beautiful because you are here, surrounded by warmth.
And then you open your eyes, and you see where you are, and you see you. You see you and what you have become and you wonder what the hell you are doing right here, right now. If you have made ANY difference in this fucking world that you have been living in, so blindly. As if you haven’t started living, as if you are waiting for something good or great, something to change, some major life change after which you will start living as the person you want to be, and you feel you need that fuckng push. That SHOVE. And it doesn’t come, and so you wait, and you slump, and your shoulders hunch, and your eyes lower, and your spirit withers, and all you have, all you hang onto is that little glimmering hope that ONE DAY that change will come. It will bring you up, lift you high and take you across, where all is good and wonderful, where life begins, and where you so desperately belong. And as you wait, and wait, and wait and wait and wait and wait and wait, you see the fucking damage that this time, this torturous time has had on your rocky heart, and your wrinkled brow. And then self-pity sets in.
And all you want to do is crawl back into that warm place. That warmth that fills your heart with hot red blood and flushes your cheeks. That place that you know was the one place where you were sure, and all you had to do was close your eyes, rest your mind, and feel soft pulses, plush sounds, calm breaths. Just be still.
Diaries of a Vagabond
I sit here, listening to some sad music, putting me in the mood, urging me to write pitiful words. Hah. The hairs stand on my arms, my eyes ache. I love the violins, the sad sad violins.
Just BREAK me down! I am starting to crave it—just an earth-shattering blow to my world. Break it into one trillion pieces, break crack rip smash. Oh what I would give to…. To move, to start again and again and again. It gets so boring. One life, one way of life, I’m tired. Turn it upside down, shake my shoulders. Am I seriously the only one? The only one who is bored, bored of this, of doing this, again and again. Eat, sleep, gym, study, work, play. How utterly dull, such monotony.
I don’t know how to do it, I don’t think I’m big enough to take the step. I don’t think I could do it to myself- change it all, just leave it all behind. Really, if I just picked up and left. Stepped onto a bus, and went. Got onto a plane, and left. Just left. I mean I don’t know if…. Hmm……vagabond
My shine is wearing off. Like an old penny, covered in age. The glisten in my eye is dimming, the light in my pulsing heart flickers. Maybe reality is setting in, and I am hearing. I am seeing what ‘to be human’ really means. I’m seeing agony, I’m seeing heartbreak……………I’m seeing fear….. helplessness.
I can see it in strangers’ eyes. I see how much it hurts.
But we get by, because that’s all we know. And so we shuffle along, and keep treading water and we make a little life, surround ourselves with material comforts, and try to forget, plug our ears and close our eyes shut tight, and just block out what we don’t want to hear, what we don’t want to realize is so true.
And I see myself… I can see myself on this path, on this specific road, going down the ignorant road. Is it so wrong that I want something different for myself, for me, is it so wrong that I want something great? So just give me an earth-shattering blow and break me down into one trillion pieces so I can wake up and start again, so I can try again………. I just need to try again….let me try again
a random 15
I like the smell of hot milk.
I love sleeping in soft beds.
I think I’m a sincere person.
I like to sit in the front of the bus so I can see the road.
I try to read books that will open my eyes.
I love getting hand-written notes.
I like listening to songs over and over again.
I prefer rainy days.
I think there are people that weave in and out of my life, and I in theirs, where we have never met and may never meet, but somehow we are undeniably connected.
I want an amazing romance.
I like to make eye contact with strangers.
I save random objects and notes I find in a little hidden box.
I write things on money in hopes that they will return to me in years and years.
I look forward to really honest moments.
I sometimes forget to look up at the stars and realize how infinitesimal life is.
a stomach-churning crunch
It’s haunting really. Those fleeting thoughts, that come so quickly they stop your heart. Like suddenly falling flat, with your nose crashing into the ground in a stomach-churning crunch, blood flowing ruby red and tears well so quick you can’t hold back. And you turn over and just lay there, hands scrapped and cheeks flushed. Sprawled, feeling like shit, and peering up into the dull gray fog.
You get angry, with a furrowed brow, and you wonder why the world is so fucking black. Why the hell you got these cards. What the hell did you do wrong? And you wonder when! You wonder when the hell things will change, when things will be better on this barren earth. God, there is so much corruption, so much violence, so many men that die. How can I not help but to look at all that is bad, it stares me in the eye, clouds my vision. Men die for words, for WORDS. But, what’s more disturbing, men kill because of words. Men kill because of disputes about whose God is right, whose God is good. Oh god, people die, millions of people die.
Understand that I’m not utterly devestated that people die because of violence, because of unjustice, because of wars, but I’m am utterly broken because people die. That simple, simple fact. People die, prematurely and without satisfaction, without achieving passions, without loving, without knowing, without accepting a fate.
This fleeting thought, it hits me so hard some days. It hits me so fucking hard, that I can’t help but to buckle and cry and scream and clench my fists and pound my hands on the hard ground until they are red, until my spirit breaks. Death represents such an end, such a permanent end to my life. Not in a biological sense, but an end to me. An end. An end to the my thoughts, to my world, to my universe. At my end, the universe stops, it simply stops and that is so inconcievable. It might as well have not existed, it might as well have not been. I don’t know when I’ll be able to accept this, I don’t know if I ever will- it scares the shit out of me, and I can’t face it without feeling such honest terror. Where will I be when there world stops, the sun never rises again, the moon never shines once more, the heart putters to a stand still and all that’s left is silence, deafening silence. When will I take my last breath, take my last step, feel my last inch perish. oh god.
his beautiful face and his beautiful mouth
why the hell not?
I can visualize these things that hold me back, I can see shyness, I can see embarassment, I can see fear, I can see nervousness.
But above all else I can see him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his beautiful face and his beautiful mouth. I try to catch a quick glimpse, capture a fleeting image.
He’s beautiful, the way he talks, the way he laughs, the way he looks
I think we could be good, great even… and I don’t even know him and I don’t approach him and I watch him leave as my heart follows
I wonder why I can’t have him, why I don’t pursue him, why the hell not?
I’m one day older, one day weaker, one day closer to a final day I’m not ready for
I feel I’ve tainted this blog. It’s pessimistic. It’s just that I’m not in a good place right now. I am so desperate for something beautiful it’s driving me insane. Literally stuck in such sluggish normality. I get frustrated, I get stuck. I feel stuck. I need something different, something good, something really good and new and refreshing and exciting. Something that makes my heart race and my palms sweat. Something that makes me giddy as I bite my lip, trying to hold it in. I want to feel my heart race, I want to feel it accelerate and beat rapid beats. I want to feel my heart.
I hate my timidness, my desperateness. I hate when I shut my mouth, when I choose not to. When I don’t just act, just do what I know I can, could.
I’m not writing well. I used to be better. I used to be inspired and ready. I used to be expressive, open. But, I’ve never really been bold. Never.
I’m afraid what will happen if I’m not. Boldness is tough, it’s like putting yourself out there, in the open, and just being totally honest and truthful it’s completely freshing.
Stop holding back, stop stop stop. Life is ending. You just lived another day. Another day out of your limited days. Another day passed, another day that will never come back. Another chance that slowly swept away.
I’m one day older, one day weaker, one day closer to a final day I’m not ready for.
even though I don’t know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you.
I deeply connect with Valerie’s message in V for Vendetta: “Our integrity sells for so little, but it is all we really have. It is the very last inch of us. But within that inch we are free….. Every inch of me shall perish. Every inch, but one. An inch. It is small and it is fragile and it is the only thing in the world worth having. We must never lose it or give it away. We must NEVER let them take it from us. I hope that whoever you are, you escape this place. I hope that the worlds turns, and that things get better. But what I hope most of all is that you understand what I mean when I tell you that, even though I do not know you, and even though I may never meet you, laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. With all my heart, I love you. Valerie.”
eyes blurred with tears
I need to feel something real, I feel like I’m skating on this layer of ice, speeding faster and faster, the wind whipping my hair back, and my eyes blurred with tears, I have no control, but I just go, further and faster. And I’m angry, at myself mostly, why would that be? I feel like I’m not trying hard enough, I feel like I’m selling myself short, I’m not opening my heart, I’m utterly failing at being the person I desperately hope to be, this image of a human I sincerely aspire to. Not so sincere I guess…
It’s tough. Life’s tough. This is tough.
God, I see those people. I see them. With their bright auras, so so innocent and whose smiles are true. So true that you couldn’t even try to deny them. I see them.
quick fix, dive downward, plunge
There are hollow walls. The bass is so loud, the drum. Seedy club, sweat and humid breaths.
My fingers curl around my quick fix, my beautiful little vial, my golden escape.
And, the other hand tightens, a fist. I close my eyes and breathe in the night.
Quick quick, tap tap
where can my words take me? I type with my eyes close, and somehow my fingers flitt across the keyboard. They scurry around, trying to find the right words, quick quick, tap tap. Failure is such a bad place to be. I never thought, never imagined myself to fail, fail to some societal idea of what is good or right or correct. I failed, according to you. And I thought, I thought, well I thought I didn’t. I thought, ME, I thought that I wasn’t doing so bad, so so bad that I deserved that, i didn’t think I failed.
I am. And I get the chance to be.
There are just way too many issues to deal with! I am so confused right now, and I just want to let it all go! What the hell. Why the hell not?
Cause I cant, cause I can’t freaking let it all go. I cant give up, and it sucks… I can’t give up on myself, or my goals, or my needs. I can’t, because if I did, if I ever did give up on myself that would be the total end. I can’t give up on myself. I can’t give up on myself. Why? Well, because I’m important to me. I matter, and in this expanisive utterly unimaginably big universe, I matter because I exist. I wasn’t passed up, I was brought to this world some how, some way out of millions of coincidences and utter luck, I was born, at this present time, in this world, on this world. I was brought here, and I have to keeping trying if only for that. If only to appreciate the fact that out of millions and billions of chances, coincidences, instances, where something could have changed the course of everything and everyone, it didn’t! It didn’t, and so I’m here. So I’m not going to pity myself, wallow, or complain. That’s such a waste of time, and I have to see it that way.
Oh sure, it’s healthy to express your emotions. Be sad and furious and angry and mad at the world because for some f-ing reason you got screwed over and they didn’t, you got dealt a bad hand, a bad day, a horrible past, and they didn’t. Sure you think it sucks, and everything sucks, but never never think there’s nothing to live for. Never think that! I will never think that. There is always something to live for- not for my measly biological body, not for someone else, not for society, not for you. Live because you got the chance, you got it.
You. Got. It.
Realize that, that’s such a rare thing. Such a rare thing. Live because there’s something unknown, something much much much much bigger out there, and remember that our society and earth and our perceptions are not always right or true. We’ve created this little home, this little pocket in space time, but there is so much more outside of us, and our ways. Live because life is inspiring.
Life is inspiring. There have been legendary people who have done epic things, and humans have created some of the most beautiful things like art and music. But nothing, nothing, can compare or come close to the beauty of life. Life is such a great thing, and we get to partake. There is life, life exists. There is. I am. We are. And that is so beautiful. That is simply amazing. Simply inspiring.
We are.
I am. And I get the chance to be.
I live, and I won’t give up because I am. And I get to be.
Little mental dreamthings
I can’t help it. I can’t help but look forward, to the future, to a better time where I’m more stable, happier, more confident, a better person; some place and time where I can appreciate life more than I am right now. I realize I have a lot of growing to do- I still haven’t found all the answers.. and I know this because of the way I act, the way I think, the things I do that I know are slightly wrong, or silly, or not right. But I wonder if that day will ever come- that day when I have all the qualities I dream up, the person I’m “supposed” to be… I consider it may be a perpetual quest.
And I can’t wait for the opportunities! I literally can’t wait- I want to do it all, and right now! I want to have it ALL. They tell me to wait, “your day will come,” you’re too young now, you’ll have time for that… but that’s just it, I might not… I might not have time, I can’t see the future and I don’t want to be living for that hazy futuristic time where I may, somehow, if the time is right, and if I’m old enough, and if I have enough money, and if I’m in the right place… I don’t want to wait for that day. I know, I want a lot. I want to do it now! I want to experience it now- all that life has to offer, I want it all- I want to travel, really travel and immerse myself in somewhere so different, I want to love (clearly I haven’t done that enough), love so purely and without fear! I’m so ready, and I’m anxious!
Oh the things I want to do, the things I dream up, my little mental dreamthings…
I want to LIVE before I die
Life is a funny thing. We get so involved in trying to persist, trying to last another day, trying to keep up with work, a social life, a love life, personal hobbies etc. We get so wrapped up in our daily little lives—And we forget to live. Please understand me when I say “live” not in the sense of living, breathing, or surviving. But truly living—I feel only a few have accomplished this. This sense of trying to learn for the sake of knowledge, trying to strive for something much greater, trying to be so much better, trying to find some sort of meaning that would justify it all. This idea of appreciating, on a much deeper level, the earth, the wind, the human condition. Viewing life, not as a curse, or something to just “live” through, struggle through, detesting any hardships and indulging in guilty desires. Viewing life as an opportunity, a chance that may never, ever come again, a chance that only happens once, and only happens for a few. The lucky few, living right now, in this moment, in this moment.
Oh! I want to live my life like this. Appreciating so deeply, and valuing my life to the extent that it would be unfathomable to waste a day, an hour, a single second. Packing my every moment of existence with meaningful experiences—viewing the world in all its glory, having worthy relationships with people, and being a true, independent, peaceful person. I want all of this! I want love, I want to travel to see it all—poverty, decay, wealth, and the avant-garde, I want meaning, I want to enjoy everyday, I want to be the person I conjure up in my head, I want to be proud of what I have become, and the morals I live by. Oh! I dread mediocrity, completely!
And when I die, when we all die, I want to be Okay. I want to be able to say, truthfully, that I have fulfilled all I ever dreamed in my lifetime, without major regrets. That I was bold, confident, beautiful, and brought meaning into my life. But, as it is right now, I’m terrified of death, of what it means literally, what it represents. An end, complete and blunt. No second chances…not one. It surprises me how, some days, I’m so ignorant to the death, creeping slowly. Maybe it’s some subconscious fear, maybe I force myself not to imagine it, therefore making it nonexistent for a day, or a week. But it always pops up, it always returns. I hate it, I hate having to accept it, undeniably, because whether I like it or not, it’ll happen—so when it does, I want to be Okay. I feel those who have terminal diseases get to stare into death’s haunting face much more often, and therefore get to live (in the true sense) deeper and truer. But, in essence, we are all terminal and we all going to die. So, I need to try to live, each day, staring into death’s terrifying eyes, forcing myself to be better, and get the most and best out of life.
I want to LIVE before I die. I want a lot.
