O.D.

You call it daydreaming

I call it reconnecting with myself.

You call it being aloof

I call it tending to my own business.

Don’t you see?

My vessel always does little to represent what I feel within.

I am, at the very least thankful it shows I exist.

 

It’s tempting, to reminisce over the past

How I might have done things a little better,

However, its a hole I wish to stay far away from.

The future? Ah, the future. All the possibilities.

Despite my cautious optimism, I try not to think of it either.

 

No amount of forward-thinking will solve what I need solving now

Highly in touch with my emotions, basing decisions on inherent values

Hard logic has never really been my strong suit.

I stick to the present because I don’t know,

I don’t know how anything from now

Till the end of this piece could change in ways

I would have no means to explain.

 

Despite living in every moment of every day

I deviate from making my thoughts systematic – a routine.

A mechanical, procedural, curation of events

Devoid of inspiration and agency.

 

Make no mistake, I have no control over my life

– Not absolutely any way.

But what gives me power is knowing I can choose

What I’m about to feel and do in the now

After all, that’s where I am.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: Aenami

 

 

 

Anyone can write a story,

But it takes great care and consideration,

To write a good one.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: Aenami

How you handle those moments of fragility,

My incremental doses of vulnerability.

Well, that’s what says it all, isn’t it …

***

It’s not so much an unwritten test

As it is a natural progression of events.

Join me in deepening our bond

Perusing through what bridges our humanity

And by design, the discovery is set in stone.

A discovery that attests to what keeps our tethers weaved.

***

Is each string born out of convenience –

– An illusion – built on nothing but circumstance.

Do we tread the same path because the alternative

Would mean trekking this world alone?

***

Don’t be quick to judge people that guard their hearts

Most have just wisened up to the idea that it isn’t everyone

Who has your best interests at heart.

***

– It’s when I open up – taking the risk to show you my heart,

That I get to see, just how deep our bond can be  

…………….

…………….

Oh? – What’s that – oh, I’m just being sensitive? Right. Of course.

Apologies, I suppose my concerns are not valid then …. 

I suppose I never thought myself bound to the narrative of Equilibrium

So – just to be clear – not only do you offer unsolicited advice

You proceed to tell me how best to circumvent 

Something you have yet to experience.

***

“Apologies”, I say, it must be such an inconvenience

How I’m unable to laugh at your passive-aggressive jokes

“Apologies”, I say, “For not handling my emotions in such a ‘manly’ way”

After all, everyone knows,

The epitome of masculinity and emotional intelligence

Hinges on who can deliver the best robot impression.

***

My apologies, for pushing the veiled line marking my border

Allowing you to peer into my inner world,

Choosing to do so was certainly not a mistake – just a regret 

A regret that brings about a timely revelation,

A timely revelation that assures I adjust our bond accordingly

Don’t scorn. Seriously, it’s not your fault, 

How else would I have known not to be that vulnerable with you again? 

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: Ardoric-Art

 

 

I express deeply to a wilderness kept within,

Guiding words to unseen walls;

Unseen walls, that blend harmoniously with the crevices that form

The valley embodying what little you know of my mind.

 

As soon as my words reach their destination,

They return, almost immediately.

Repeating themselves, 

Over… and over again.

 

It should come as no surprise then,

To me, or to you,

That whatever feeling I end up carrying as a mantle 

Entirely depends on what I would have chosen to exclaim

At the periphery of my world’s edge.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by:  JoeyJazz

Fumbling within the clutter of a word cloud,

Losing myself with how often I re-write –

– Each line – benign, as I cater to the design

Relative and specific to each rhyme.

 

My words would sooner finish before my ink does.

Wait – I meant to say that the other way ’round – no doubt –

– In my eyes, as I face my beast head-on like a game of joust.

A quick jab of my lance to its chest,

Face first within the dirt –

– Is where my Goliath gets to witness the rest.

 

My ballpoint hovers over words that form the piece

Retroactively rendering judgement before the ink breathes

Every day for me is a class back in session

Who am I to think myself exempt from life’s lessons?

 

Six-figure-words deep on my journey of self-discovery,

Books, movies, different types of cheese –

– all things worthy of yet another category

All I say is “curb that need

When you start to see it bleed over to humanity”

 

Right on time, my persistent nihilism always entails

Death approaches me with yet another enticing flirt

Much to the irritation of my enemies

I toss the noose,

Sating sleep’s favourite cousin with thirst.

 

Apologies if I’ve ever looked like prey to you

A common misconception I make no time to contend with

I chuckle when they tell me they have me figured out –

– Ignorant spouts that run in parallel with the sphinx telling me

It has always had a nose for my ink

What you see –  rather selectively – is what I let you see

Don’t confuse seeing the sun with discovering it.

 

“Fiercely independent, unnaturally individualistic,

Selfish and inept at maintaining group harmony”

Which harmony? The one you allude to when preaching to your sheep?

Take a close look at my wings, tell me,

Do they look like they were made for the cage?

 

Some choose to lead, some choose to follow

Some realize life goes deeper,

That life is not so simple, not so hollow

There is no we; just you and me

No absolute freedom but the best illusion of it

Happiness being a series of exceptional distractions.

 

I rein in my morbid thoughts because I respect your idea of peace

I haven’t seen everything, but I’ve seen enough to know what I want

And what I want is to live my life

Saying what I feel

Without having to worry if it sounds right.

Ask yourself what emotional turmoil I’ve had to go through

To accept depression as my most trusted companion

And not the company of those that call me family or friend.

 

 – O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: JoeyJazz

 

Oh please, what are material pleasures to a creative like me?

What are they but a baseline; a kick-back to remind,

That there is yet a world that exists beyond, well, me.

 

What is a climax to a man who can fit existence

Into one potent and ephemeral verse, a nebula

For you to see from here to wherever on the map your dart hits.

 

Sorry – what was that? Oh, this sounds a little erotic?

Well, why not go the full mile and restrain me

Just don’t awaken a hidden kink in the process;

That was erotic too wasn’t it? Well too bad, I can’t help it.

 

Once I’ve delved this deep into a piece

Every word begins to bleed into the next

Psychedelic, like cursive, the words connect

Fishy how I get hooked. Ecstatic, yet sporadic, in how I receive and relay

The ideas that accumulate and manifest on the page.

 

Okay, enough with the showing off *ahem*

 “Dear reader, how was your day?”

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by:  JoeyJazz

 

If you think I’m only messing around, read the title again.