(Spoken Word)
For the best experience use earphones.
If you enjoyed this, consider listening to my other Spoken-Word here.
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: kaiser-mony

Contemplations From A Black Star Citizen.
(Spoken Word)
For the best experience use earphones.
If you enjoyed this, consider listening to my other Spoken-Word here.
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: kaiser-mony
How can anyone say “now” is the present,
When by that estimation;
Now has already been two lines ago.
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: viktorow
And if you’re reading this, how far has now been?
I’m genuinely hesitant to comment on posts I sometimes see in my feed.
Because some bloggers simply want whoever reads their work to agree with whatever they’re saying. And if it’s not that — the reader needs to be able to capture the specific subtext and nuance in a poem that the poet is trying to convey without deviations. Without even taking into account or reflecting on what the reader may have elicited.
Some context:
A few months back I came across a poem that was so well written. It was amazing and truly heartbreaking, arguably nihilistic art at its finest. I left a comment about how the poem was well written and how I enjoyed reading it.
The writer’s response to my comment was. “I find it odd how you could enjoy my pain”
Um, okay?
Perhaps they simply misinterpreted what I said as “I enjoyed reading about your pain.”
I left another response telling them that when I read poetry, I remove the poet from the equation and simply enjoy the poem for what it is. Because I can never claim to know what any poet is feeling, and I would imagine it’s a little insulting to comment with “I hope you feel better soon” when I don’t even know if the poem they’ve shared is a direct reflection of the poet or how they’re feeling.
And even if I can miraculously identify the specific feeling, I can’t understand the feeling as accurately as the poet. I simply take the most objective stance if there’s no accompanying text that specifically tells me that the poem is a result of grief or otherwise.
To their credit, when I explained my position they seemed to understand where I was coming from.
But I would be lying if I said the whole interaction didn’t ruin any desire I had to binge their lovely work. Because now I knew, If I was to comment, I had to mirror their emotions or at the very least “not show appreciation for the art itself” when I “assume” they are suffering or are happy based on what “I think” their words are saying (?)
I don’t know, that just sounds like a lot of homework.
I understand that people are different and that we all have different expectations for our blogs, readers and content. I suppose I got a little relaxed and made the mistake of thinking that when poetry is concerned, objectivity takes centre stage and not the poet’s subjective experience. That what the poet publishes is an account open to critique and other insightful connections that may be found by the reader outside the poet’s knowledge.
If you’re grieving, and there’s no sign on your blog to show you’re grieving apart from an amazing poem that can be left to multiple interpretations. What am I, as the reader, supposed to do in that situation?
Am I supposed to, perchance, ask you whether you’re in pain or if you’re happy before I eventually tell you that you wrote an amazing piece?
See, by that measure, the most harmonious approach in any comment section is checking what everyone else is saying, noting what the author finds agreeable and responding within the same vein.
Because that’s how we connect right? Through mimicry? Through discarding any other possible interpretations in a world full of so many gifted people?
I don’t like commenting and just saying “Nice” or “Cool” or some other variation of this. I want to speak (with respect of course) about what connections I’ve made. And if we know each other well enough how the author’s work affects me personally.
I’m not saying “if this is what you like you’re wrong”. I’m saying “if this is what you like we probably won’t get along.”
I don’t write content so people can agree with me or echo exactly what I’m saying. I write my experience and in doing so ask “have you come across anything like this in your experience?” and if not, that’s okay, it doesn’t take away from the validity of my own experience.
There aren’t many people who can separate themselves from what they write, but I’ve seen enough of them to personally take notice. Please don’t ever feel like you need to agree with me to comment on my posts; I won’t come after you. Say what you want to say. Truth first.
That’s how I learn or at least get to think differently.
If I wanted to write for an audience that simply agreed with everything I said with little to no resistance I’d be looking to publish my next posts in a morgue. More accommodating, no?
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: viktorow
WE’RE ALREADY IN HEAVEN. (Thought Experiment)
Hear me out. I know it might sound crazy, but think about it.
What if we’re all in “heaven” right now and its conception is not entirely based on what we think it’s like. You know that thing they say about heaven being a place of no more sorrow and no more pain?
If there’s no more sorrow or pain, that means we’re always happy and literally drowning in joy. But then that got me thinking, how is there joy without sorrow? That doesn’t sound like a whole experience.
But then I also thought, if it’s heaven, it’s beyond human understanding. My perception was rooted in bias. I’m a human being, feeling human things and coming to human conclusions.
If we now live in an existence that is so far removed from humanity (without any of the shackles) I’d like to believe it’s an existence in which there is literally no possibility of misunderstandings. We’ll be existing as a sort of unified consciousness, the one you often see in sci-fi, but instead of it being technical it’s entirely spiritual.Â
We are individual spirits, in heaven, with a telepathic ability to connect and understand each other within zeptoseconds. In the time it would take an average human to think of anything we would have already caught up with all our fellow spirits on matters of life and our understanding of the universe and then some.Â
Now suppose that in this hypothetical heaven we have access to a series of “experimental” realities. And one of them includes whatever we’re in currently.
I’ve heard it being called “The Human Experiment” in my weirdly abstract circles. But I wanted to integrate my own theory.
I believe our lives as spirits are so fulfilled. So pure and amazing that feeling pain and sorrow are in many ways our source of “entertainment”/learning. We willingly entered this experiment to feel things. To experience new things. To know what it’s like to exist as this thing we call a Human.
Lol has your existential trigger kicked in yet?
I mean, it’s either this theory OR we’re all components of a self-governing AI that is slowly gaining sentience. Each advancement we make as a species is directly reflective of the AIs new capabilities.
We discovered Space flight? No, “human”, we have just unshackled a new program for our collective existence. Ideologies being a combination of competing diagnostics.
(Thank my buddy Shay for always taking the time to listen to my existential segues)
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MY ANGER SCARES ME (Potential triggers ahead)
Not in the “Oh you better not make me angry” kinda way. It’s just the way my anger finds a way to weave itself into how I begin to think.
I should be clear. I don’t get angry often. Like, I get annoyed or irritated. But angry? No, not really. It takes something truly f*cked up to get me there.
The thing is, I don’t like shouting. Or arguing.
I’m the type of person who chooses to see a situation for what it is and not what I want it to be.
If someone is shouting at me or accusing me of something I didn’t do. I don’t think “How dare they!” I instead reflect on how they skipped so many steps and went to the one that’s most convenient.
I shut them out completely. And by that I mean they will never see my range of emotions or feelings regarding my core philosophies or value systems. This isn’t a reaction. It’s a response.
Someone I used to know made me so angry. So, so angry I can still remember it though it happened like two or so years ago. I won’t get into the specifics of what they did. But it was bad.
Forgive me for the analogy but it was like they tried to molest my mind. Yes, that bad.
So what did I do? I kept them around and decided to conduct a high-stakes experiment. Not because I cared, but because they had utility. If they were going to go out of their way to try and hurt me. The least they could do is be useful enough for me to conduct a study.
I knew exactly where they stood with me. I knew exactly how they would respond to any achievement of mine, big or small. With chronic invalidation, poorly hidden contempt, performative gestures and shame projection.
I used them as a barometer for my ideas. The bigger their contemptuous response, the better I knew my idea was. And make no mistake, many of those ideas were great, I could tell because I would also share them with trusted sources to increase my sample size.
But of course, humans are complicated. By the time they caught onto how little they meant to me. I considered them as nothing. I suppose it’s more accurate to say they were my measuring tape.
Villain or no. I don’t care how I look in this story. I never set out to hurt their demon. But if that happened as collateral to my high-stakes experiment. Then so be it. You won’t see me losing sleep over it.
And that’s what scares me. How little I begin to care. I’m not proud of it. I don’t like who I become when people push me too far.
Somewhat unrelated. A close family member got sick during the pandemic. Everyone urged me to visit them, and because of our shared history, I didn’t even consider it. I was willing to hear that they died and move on than be caught mourning over them when all they did was covertly try to sabotage any and all attempts I made to individuate as a child. Why the f*ck would I pretend to care about someone whose last words of encouragement to me before setting out on my own were. “Let’s see where that gets you”.
Yeah? Well f*ck you too.
I am really happy I have this platform dear reader. Because with it, I know where to put all my anger. I can’t help but imagine how miserable I would be without it.
I’m honest with myself, but I’m also honest with whoever chooses to read what I have to write.
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SHAMELESS SEO PLUG (Really, it is)
The Great Reset, Elections, Ukraine, Russia, America, Oil Prices, Disney Is A Religion, Cats, Aliens, Creativity, Tik Tok Is Evil, Data Lizards, Vax debate, Twitter bans, Biometrics, Covid regulations, BMW microtransactions.
But seriously, why the BMW heated seat subscription? Lol, what the hell is going on?
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MARVEL PHASE SNORE, AMIRITE? (Spoilers maybe?)
<<I couldn’t even be bothered to find a marvel picture lol >>
My headcanon for the MCU is that everything ended with Endgame.
Spiderman No Way Home was really nice.
Wanda is a terrible, terrible, terrible character. Why do they try to make her look like a victim? She’s a monster.
Don’t get me started on Thor.
And Doctor Strange suddenly became naive for PLOT reasons.
<<I don’t talk about movies much, if at all. But it felt like a better fit to end this vibe check than — well, everything else>>
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AMAZING PICTURE BY A GIFTED ARTIST + I HAVE A QUESTION
Do you also listen to music when you write? And what music is it? I listen to synthwave or hip-hop most of the time I’m writing. Helps my creative flow.
If you don’t listen to music as you write, I’m curious to know how you kickstart your creativity.
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: RHADS
Excuse me If I don’t take you seriously,
As you continue to hide both eyes under your feet
The only time you get to see others
Is when you’re stepping on them.
You think the ground trembles as you move
But it’s only you; stepping on it after I do.Â
I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised,
It’s to be expected from ambitious glass cannons,
Shattered by their own over-estimation.
But that’s the difference between you and me.
Winning is not core to the foundation of my soul.
It’s a detour — a welcome reminder —
A flavorful happening among a series of happenings
The equivalent of having ice cream on a hot afternoon.
Indeed, that’s the difference between you and me
I don’t think “ice cream” every moment of every day.
I don’t need to.
No, not when there’s more to life than that.
More to life,
Than “winning”
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: RHADS
Don’t be offended when I don’t take your words at face value
I’m wary when told how gifted I am
For some perspective, you could take the Milky Way’s circumference
— Multiply it with the range of my talent,
All to get a rough estimate, of how long it would take,
To connect the dots that exist between the point you were about to make,
And the one you should’ve made.
But you know what, never mind.
By the time the prior verse begins to connect and make sense
Who I was will be a total stranger to who I’ll be —
A highly experimental artist with a risk – reward ratio
Built to strangle human senses.
A far-reaching synaptic net brings with it
A series of highly unconventional methods:
We could have a party
Champagne, good food, loved ones, fireworks, the works.
Venue: my open palm
Until I close it, If only to evoke
How there’s more than one way to capture a moment.
We could be finding our heaven
But true to form majority focus on greasing their flimsy egos.
So I look for my own beacon, full of peace, love, kindness and joy.
Does that sound like a space you’d be willing to find?
Because I would love to find it with you,
… With you. Not for you.
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: RHADS
There are often multiple ways to get where we want to go.
In pursuit of joy, I can either find it,
Or settle for toxic bridges that eventually lead to it.
Making a habit of rationalizing the prickly spaces that lead to “greener pastures”
Â
Or — or — bear with me here —
Instead of enduring the bottomless wrath of loveless children
Looking to use me as their soul powered battery
I jump their prickly aura entirely
And land, exactly where I need to land;
Anywhere other than where they’ll be.
Â
– O.D. ©2022
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Art by: viktorow
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“If you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best” — the Main Character of the Universe (probably)
Â
TLDR: It comes with conditions, it’s inorganic, in many ways lazy and a massive red flag depending on who you ask.
*****
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(And because this is a personal post I don’t believe I need to answer questions like:
“What about people who’re waiting for the other person to make the first move?”
I don’t care. This post is about me.)
If we’re going to connect, we’re going to connect. No need to shower me with compliments and all other associated embellishments.
I would rather hear about the things you enjoy, even if they’re things I don’t find particularly interesting. Who knows, I might actually learn something and begin to have a newfound appreciation for your niche interests.
See that’s what often happens when people are authentic. People are introduced to new and interesting realities. That’s the best-case scenario.
There’s no worst-case scenario. Because authenticity will be at the centre of everything. If two authentic people are incompatible, they part respectfully.
I respect authenticity. I say this all the time.
Authenticity comes with consistency.
You will grow to resent me if you take this proactive bonding approach to relationship building. If you think offering to help me every single time will instil in me a desire/obligation to help you just as much you’re living in a world of illusion. (And the world just so happens to be a loving habitat to the rarely seen elephant of the entitlement variety)
You can’t, for example, buy me a rose that I never requested and expect me to buy you one in return.
That behaviour is synonymous with “mirroring” and I find it particularly annoying, to be honest.
If I told you the number of times I’ve had to explain to people that I don’t remember birthdays and they insisted on saying “Happy Birthday” anyway expecting me to say it back you’d be surprised. I understand the sentiment of telling people you care about “Happy Birthday”. But I don’t believe that sentiment is a fact or a moral imperative I have to live by.
Why not just act authentically without expecting anything in return? Why is that so hard? Pro-active bonders would rather subject themselves to a sprint from which they’ll eventually burn out (and make no mistake, they will). At which point they’ll show their real selves and we get to say “Nice to finally meet you”
To proactively bond (to me) is to take charge of how the relationship flows. It means you know (for certain) how it’s supposed to go.
It means being impatient to see a bond evolve organically over time and choosing to add a bit of your grow-grow juice. Tasteless reasoning in my opinion.
This can be done in a friendship or otherwise. And in some cases, they (the proactive bonder) will be expecting some kind of return for their efforts — or at least some kind of result. A result that signifies compatibility.
The absence of “expected” results is somehow considered self-evident. It somehow signifies the lack of compatibility.
<<Make that irrationality make sense>>
The lack of results is because the recipient of all this proactive bonding is a bad person. It’s definitely not because of this cornucopia of potential reasons:
“Maybe I creeped this person out by being so smothering, that’s why they distanced themselves”
“Maybe telling them I’ve planned a surprise trip without letting them know didn’t translate over to them as a sweet gesture”
“Maybe I need to start putting in the effort to get to know someone before assuming I know what they want”
“Maybe a relationship not growing in the exact way I want isn’t always a bad thing”
I mean, these are just some of the things I would hope these individuals think of before trekking their self-actualised Mt Sinai.
But I’m just one idiot behind a keyboard, what do I know.
Please, educate me. Show me how wrong I am.
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: nathanaeI
One word: Telescope.
Actually, Seven words: Telescope, Van, Duct tape, Rope and Hope.
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Hope will be used when asking her out on a date
She might say “no”, can’t handle those now, can we?
The telescope is to watch the stars or birds or something
Look man, I don’t know what time your date is taking place
Figure it out.
The rope will be for practising kinbaku
A relatively esoteric trust exercise,
Which won’t be weird on a first date. Obviously.
And the Van is to help carry everything.
The duct tape is for — well — *ahem*
Look, just get in the van alright?
– O.D. ©2022
Art by: Tomasz-Mro