Kayfabe.

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Status update: Our love is so powerful. So, so powerful. I could never love another.

 

“Yes. Yes. A thousand times Yes.

That is why your lover constantly seeks my affection

All without you taking notice.

Because they absolutely love you”

 

— Is, what I would say, If I was in the middle of a heated

High school drama over social media. 

But I’m not – honest.

Besides, you have no choice but to believe me,

That’s if I were lying. But am I?

That’s a joke. Of course, I’m not

 

— Is, what I would say if I was actually lying

Trying to cover my tracks. But you believe I’m telling the truth

Don’t you? No need to doubt me; the source, for lying.

After all, I just said I’m not.

 

Wait.

What were we talking about again?

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: JoeyJazz

 

I am drawn to authenticity. I haven’t exactly made that secret, especially with poems like Authentic: You hovering on my front page. A feeling of genuineness and transparency within those that surround me; I have no doubt many people also seek the same thing. Which is why it baffles me when people are quick to discard their identities when it becomes convenient.

Adopting a new identity fully, no holds barred; discarding their old one like worn socks. I understand succinct changes can occur when you hang out with others, subconsciously even. You may start to adopt a few mannerisms and particular inflections in your speech. But to discard who you are entirely just so you can take on what you believe to be a more favourable persona? Wow.

I say “wow” because I could never trust someone like that. I hold my identity very closely; It’s who I am. And if someone shows little to no love for who they are as an individual, and are willing to trade it all in to “Look good”; I’d like to believe our relationship is built on lies. Who’s to say what else they are willing to forego in their pursuit to “look good”? Our love? Our friendship? I don’t care if someone uses the excuse of “I’m afraid people won’t like the real me”. No, love you first instead of waiting for others to do it for you. Love you and your flaws instead of using other peoples’ validation as an excuse to pretend to be someone you’re not. Do the hard thing, the hard thing many people do on a daily. You wouldn’t be the first person in the history of humanity to do so.

******

My friend Dorinda Duclos commented on one of my posts saying: 

“…The invention of FB, Twitter, etc, has allowed many to be someone they are not. There is no one like you, so why try to be someone else? I never understood that…”

(Visit her blog by the way, amazing writer 🙂 )

                                                                                ******

I agree with what she says here. Social networks may not be the prime cause, but they certainly contribute a large deal. I remember mentioning how “trends and other forms of branding have transcended from the material to the spiritual”. It’s not about adopting particular clothing, but a particular personality; whatever appeals to most people. Of course, I’m not saying everyone does this on social media; but people are constantly pushed to compete amongst themselves without even realizing it. All through the perceived idea of the “ideal”.

“Stay positive. Always be positive 24/7. No room for negativity”

“Love you only. And learn not to give a f*ck”

“You won’t know what a real party experience is until you go to the FYRE festival” <=== I just had to.

Sub-cultures within cyberspace have their own systems and functions. And most of these sub-cultures perpetuate and encourage being someone you are not. Again, not everyone is like this; I’m talking about those that do. If you are not sure of yourself you will easily fall prey to whatever you believe is trendy or “cool”.

The poem I wrote showcases the convoluted nature of shuffling identities. The utter mess we could all fall into if we start playing pretend. You could get praise and adoration and it all adds to this insatiable fix you start getting from cheap highs. Likes, Upvotes, hearts and all other forms of social currency could come your way and it could feel really good. But like anything else we consume these days, people will start drifting once they get bored with your false identity. What will you do then? Besides adopting another identity; especially once you’ve become dependant on the cheap thrill/highs of embodying something you’re not?

And if you decide to let it all go after having lived years pretending to be someone else, who will you be?

Dollhouse.

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Earth, Earth, Earth …

Just a house with sparsely spaced continents;

What we call countries mark our different but

Intricately designed rooms, some of which are divided

By an ambitious swimming pool.

 

Easy to forget we are all connected 

Till you remember we rely on the same light;

Probably a good thing that the orb of light

Is within sight, and not within reach,

You just know some eager fellow

Would’ve already tried to claim it as their own.

 

And guess what? Those that play the part of our parents?

Those that claim to run governments, in our best interests?

Making rules behind their lavish podiums?

Do more when fattening their pockets with that Charles Darrow currency.

 

This is why I chuckle when they think I am, at all, interested in what they have

No, you delusional pieces of unintelligible refuse

The only time you could ever have me flinching;

Fighting fiendishly, for something I want

Is when you manage to make yourself at home

In the world that inhabits my mind.

 

But till then,

…Relax…

And like a good little boy/girl

Keep playing boss in your dollhouse.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: nehas91

 

 

 

 

 

 

Authentic: You

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I’m not telling you how to live your life

No, far from it; all I’m saying is

If you choose to lie to yourself long enough

Intent on being evasive

Of the pain that comes with the truth

Every delusion you have carefully crafted

For everything but your name

Will, in your world, become true.

And in all honesty,

That should frighten you.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: JoeyJazz

 

Simple, but true. I love authenticity in character. Why forfeit your identity to masquerade as someone or something you are not? Perhaps there are do or die situations I’m not aware of. But outside of that, I cannot bring myself to understand.

The deeper someone pretends to be something they are not, the harder it will be to find themselves when they genuinely want to. 

 

 

 

Intention #Revisited

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Hold that dynamite

That I call words,

Close to your head

As I light the wick;

Each cylindrical stick

Is a verse, a word

Intended

And made

To do one thing:

Blow

Your

Mind.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: lov3ken

Parts.

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I take the emotions that make me human,

The parts I like about myself

And those I’m not necessarily proud of

Put them through a distillery,

Also known as my free-flowing poetry.

 

A separation process that helps marginalize my personality

Diverse pathways showcasing the entirety of me

All in a form that makes sense to those that take the time

To visualize the makings of an imagination uncontained.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: DaisanART

 

 

Know (?)

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If you were given the chance,

How much more of me would you wish to know?

When do I tell myself to stop talking without feeling like …

Like, I’m not telling you something important?

Because to me, it’s all connected, you know.

But to you, well, they may just be fragments.

 

When do you tell me its enough, to stop.

Or, should you even say that?

Especially if you keep asking to know more.

In the end, when can we really say it has all become “too much”?

Foregoing accountability for either saying too much;

Or asking to know more

About what we are not yet prepared to hear?

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: NielsHoyle-Dodson

 

Dear reader, how much is too much? (especially when those we love are involved)

 

Skill >>

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The level of my skill hovers somewhere between now

And the day my story reaches its end.

 

To those looking for a definitive measure of my abilities,

A qualitative and or quantitative study of my talent

Is hidden between the crevices that mark the borders governing a single moment.

 

A single moment, from the beginning till the end of time

Spaced out and compartmentalized 

Into what we, as humanity, believe to be digestible:

A calendar.

 

Four dimensions bind our reality,

A sandbox we’re content building our little castles in

We all have our chosen spots; but still, they ask where I fit.

 

Where I fit, in this illustrious sandpit.

All the while not asking who or what holds it all together.

“What? No. Not me. That would be crazy.”

 

My body may be bound to the familiarity of this plane,

But my mind? Well, my mind wanders. 

Mental musings scaling the space that exists between constellations

— And that’s on a bad day.

 

Unapologetically wild with my thoughts and all processes associated.

Concealed within my brain casing is a world I am in love with

A world I wish to show you with each word I write.

But, much like anything else;

Everything in moderation, right?

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: SquidMag

 

 

Divine II

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Divine I

 

******

 

You are beautiful

Just the way you are;

Let no one make you think otherwise.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: DaCre8iveOne

An ode to all the women in the world.

 

Together.

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One thing at a time, my friend

It won’t matter how fast

You get it all done

If it means we can not

Celebrate it all together,

In the end.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: syarul

 

Just a little reminder for all my readers as I work on my other projects for this blog and beyond. Abide by your own metric, do not compare yourself to others. You are already enough.

Happy Wednesday 🙂

\Shattered/\Dreams/

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Just a bunch of broken pieces trying their best

To find, which parts fit, with which …

 

Scattered, they are, my emotions

All in conjunction with associated propositions

Much like the layout of this entire poem.

 

Jagged edges that take time to link

Sometimes, two bits align, but none come after

And perhaps they are not meant to.

 

I have far outgrown the thought of an ideal narrative

I could ponder on and on about why life isn’t fair

But honestly, I find the thought revolting

Who else do I blame about the way I feel about the world besides myself?

 

Fate? Destiny? No, I don’t believe in that,

Just circumstances coming into focus;

Sequences of events that run in parallel with our different realities.

 

I believe in people giving more weight to various phenomena

That can, under different circumstances, through different lenses,

Be easily explained.

 

“I believe in a universe that does not care,

But people that do”

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: michifromkmk

I’m an avid gamer, I think I’ve mentioned that once or twice here. When I’m not on my blog I’m either playing a game, listening to music, or pursuing other projects (like writing my book).

Late last year I was playing this game called Night In The Woods…

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(spoiler alert) there was a character who said the exact same quote I said at the end of my poem. And for some reason, when they said that, it all clicked for me. I had been thinking of the same thing for the longest time and to hear the character say what I felt was a little mind-blowing. Sure, prior to seeing that quote I probably would have said it differently but, the feeling was still the same. 

I am not very religious. In fact, I’m not religious at all (used to be though). I chose to live this way because I believe in doing good that comes straight from the heart. Because it feels right and it soothes my soul. It always felt odd when I would make a choice on whether to do good or bad solely based on my fear to go to hell.

But with that little factor out of the way, I find myself truly feeling like I’m doing good because I want to, not feeling like a hypocrite who just wants to go to heaven (I’m not saying religious people are hypocrites, I’m only exploring how I felt when I adhered to the doctrine and all its teachings) People close to me sometimes get rattled when I mention this, but there really is no need to worry. 

If I do burn in hell because I didn’t associate myself with any religious denomination; it’s okay. Because at the end of it all I’ll know it was my own conscious choice and not one that was made for me.

 

In other news: working on Flow (Part 2)