Reflection To My Social Community

How does one truly tell their community they changed with their actions? Since I've been muted from their conversations, there is little to none attention given to me, even the necessary ones.

Reflection does not always do the trick.
I can't see if having porch time with poetry or
Christian/Buddhist devotions will lead to survival and success of the spirit,
But it doesn't take a genius to claim I mucked up some aspects due to
Not fully understanding my identity.

During the quarter life crisis era, I did what one would expect:
Dated a 19 year old, tried new drugs, bought a Ford Bronco, learned to skydive with no fear.
But examining the life I lead until now, led me to lethargic Sundays
Spending the day in front of a screen to burn out my eyes and delay my brain to focus on the
Importance. Epiphany never comes in as a rushing river, with thought after thought, but only a drip at a time. I hate this most, but you can't learn everything all at once. Time, Patience, Energy, and Work to gain the final goal.

Where else can I gain the support and love I once had?  To not only gain, but give it back Reciprocally.
Love them as they loved me.
Patience, Obi-Wan once said to my naive young mind,
But I never became fully patient. Always wanting to look foreword to the horizon when I paid no Attention to the present.  Always wanted to be the Force carrier and user without the training Required.
Please don't give up on me Father.
Keep my feet moving,
Keep my mind wandering,
Keep my eyes seeing, and
My hands helping.

I'll always be the Johnny Cash, to my June Carter.
The Vader to my Padme.
Her fearing me, and I constantly ignoring her teaching me the error of my way,
And never noticed or appreciated till later,
And there lies the tragedy of my life.
Never one to take heed of the lessons I experience of the classroom LIFE.

We all still deserve love and forgiveness, as long as we know what is expected of us to do with that gift.

Talking to Girls in the New Age

While sipping my bedtime tea, I sat on the porch to ponder over my day.
Thinking of the day, and how much I actually accomplished rather than the
Amount I set the goal for. The thought came to me that
Life events take significantly longer than we expect.
School, dating, marriage, employment, even death sometimes.
Our world is all about patiences;
It loves to give us inhabitants experience with waiting patiently.
Some don't take kindly to it, and expect all parts of life to come up as instantly
As a high speed internet browser that wont crap out even on the windiest of days.
Others learn the importance of patience being a virtue,
Instructing them on the beauty of waiting, for it gives them time to
Reflect on life and smell some sweet roses.
Yet others solely look at patience as a necessary evil,
Knowing they must wait, but still cannot focus on the here and now,
Always the next step of what is coming.

Act, stop, Reflect, prepare, act again.
The cycle of healthy thinking.

Do it or don't do it, but make sure you know why you are doing either one (it becomes part of your ID).

I'm Done

There is nothing more to do.
I have torched the bridges between us all completely.
Nothing left to say. Nothing left to do.
Just take one last look while I ash my cigar, letting them fall on the ashes of the charred wood,
And keep moving my feet in a forward direction (choose carefully).
The obliteration complete,
The once flourishing green meadow is now brown and burnt,
Void of all life.

This is what I leave behind to the world.
This is my legacy.
Pain, suffering, hatred of my being,
All above are the strongest aspects of my identity.
All who have crossed paths with myself feel this given to them.

Love? Not here. Just a warm pistol of hatred and loathing.

There is still hope though, isn't there?

Her

She led me to insanity.
At least that what I say to justify my actions.
No woman truly has made me act in this manner, which makes think
That she is still the perfect girl for me.
But I can't forget that I'm still young and naive,
A child at heart.
And I still don't know several aspects of my identity.

She made me insane and I can't shake it.
How do I repair this? Is repair even possible?
What will I need to forget her totally?
Run Away?!
Always on the side of flight my mind is.

A Piece of Prose Poetry About Life

Life is constantly full of transitions, periods of change.
We need to embrace them, and not reject them.
Being a species of evolution, consistency and stable sameness should not be our goal.
We need to move on to our next phase and period of our ever-changing lifestyle and culture.
Warning: Do not just sit and be sedentary--that leads to disease and early termination.
That is not what I, nor anyone should, desire.

The cruel joke of life is that one day you cannot do what you once did.
Entropy is the only constant in this world.
From the meanest ant, to the wealthiest human, we will all die.
All we can attain is to leave some kind of legacy, something for others to remember and recall us by.

This is what many writers, poets, and artists before me learned.
There is necessity for art in our world so we take the time to appreciate what is beautiful and lovely in our world--to remember that life is beauty.
Even with all the ups and downs, all the messiness embodied here, life is beauty; you can find examples of that METAPHOR in every corner, every river bend, every place you go.
There is beauty in life, and there is beauty in you.

Suburbial Bliss

A late start this morn.
Flapjacks on stove with bacon.
Time for family.

Paria

Paria Paria,
Where have you been?
Always running away from your fears and
Eating any scraps thrown at you.
Her bones are tired, her muscles weak,
There is much more behind little brown eyes than you can possibly imagine.

Paria Paria,
What have you done?
What are the trials you have faced?
Any accomplishments? Any discouragements?
The world is not kind to the low and mean.
There are few comfortable being charitable,
And giving all they have. Even the charity cannot
Drain themselves fully for the aid of the need.

Paria Paria,
Why did you leave?
What caused you to run from the life you were given?
Not enough cats to chase, or sickly scraps to kill the
Stomach twinges?
Was there a master who drank from the bottle too frequently?
The world is cruel and miserable, but we must rise above the misery
And keep sights on the positive and joyous to combat the negative and painful.
We will succeed, but we must be patient.