Poetry, To Me (4)

Poetry, to me, is the defiance —

Unapologetic sensationalizing of a world that is often unforgiving.

The unbridled strength and courage 

To pepper meaning onto that which is deemed insignificant

With a divine poignancy.

 

The unmitigated desire to repurpose evanescent chaos

Parsing itself over vacant and misplaced minds.

The waking and coloring of docile and achromatic senses

The feel and touch of a lover who’s in reach but will never exist

… Lest tainted by the limitations veiling our fragile reality.

 

Poetry, dear reader,

Is the gentle push that a healing heart never knew it needed.

 

– O.D. ©2021

 

Art by:  SuperPhazed

 

If you enjoyed this poem, consider checking out the rest of the series:

Poetry, To Me 1

Poetry, To Me 2

Poetry, To Me 3

 

 

 

Blogging Vignette.

Sometimes I wonder what all my WordPress buddies get up to when they’re not here blogging their hearts out.

Make no mistake, I enjoy reading a majority of peoples work. I just tend to wonder how everyone’s lives are outside of everything they write.

We only get snippets/vignettes of everything. You know, mostly the juicy parts.

Alfred Hitchcock says “What is drama, but life with all the dull bits cut out”

And I agree. If we wrote a detailed outline that includes all the monotony we endure it would hardly be an interesting read. 

It’s not a curiosity I entertain often, after all, I’m hardly the most open person around here.

This question popped into my head when I was reminiscing over old friendships that fizzled out during my first years here on WordPress. So many people I knew are just… gone. Others showed up and vanished within the space of a year.

Keeping a blog alive is hard work — I like to believe in many ways you have to enjoy writing to help with this. Either that, or you use your blog to explore creative expression and not much else.

These were some of my shower thoughts these last few days. Have you experienced something similar or are all your buddies present and accounted for?

– O.D. ©2021

Art by: Ninjatic

Kenshō

You wouldn’t call me impatient

If you knew how long I’ve had to tolerate

Unimaginative definitions adjacent

To that which you say about me.

Noone ever really gets it

Until their intensity meets your own.

See, the day you fit me into a word

Is the day your tears trickle, drench —

— Drown and put a pause on spacetime.

The day you fit me into a sentence

Is the day you witness my form

Instead of your own

Glaring back at you in the mirror.

The day you fit me into a book

Is the day I call you “God”

And if you think it’s getting complicated

Then I’d say that’s a good indication

Because it means you’re starting to think.

– O.D. ©2021

Art by: Superphazed

Hollow Dragons.

Absolute understanding of people is overrated.

The brickwork inlaid on the walls that surround me

Is enough to satisfy the lifetime curiosity of any aspiring bureaucratic fetishist.

Any who choose to abandon their lives to chisel my walls —

Will, in so doing, come to learn more about themselves

Than they’ll ever do about me.

My core is mine, and mine alone.

Not a myopic curiosity to cure existential doldrums.

If it’s all the same to you,

I’d like to keep it that way.

– O.D. ©2021

Art by:  ChaosFissure

A-Sexuality Reality.

Apart from people automatically assuming you’re gay? Everything as an a-sexual is fine lol. I don’t have a problem with gay people (obviously) but it’s annoying when my lack of a sexual appetite leads people to conclude I’m gay.

Because its unfathomable in their tiny little minds that someone can live without craving sex.

Please don’t embarrass yourself by assuming this. I like to believe we’re all a little more aware. But I suppose I’ve been guilty of thinking some things are common knowledge in a world full of diverse individuals.

— the other day I was accused of being “too woke” for simply checking on a co-worker who seemed sad. That my generation is too obsessed with how people feel and that we’re too sensitive. The guy was obviously sniffing his own pheromones, I think he just didn’t like someone other than him receiving attention.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with checking whether someone is okay. And it shouldn’t hurt anyone else in the vicinity when we care about other people’s feelings. Right?

Well “Wrong!” according to them. 

Point is, our world is full of all types — I’m open to toxic people existing — there’s nothing I can do about that. I just try not to stick around them any longer than I have to.

Going back to my experience with A-sexuality.

It’s important to note that I’m one of many on the spectrum of a-sexuals. There are A-sexuals who only desire sex when they are emotionally attuned with their partner. There are a-sexuals who are virgins and have no desire of ever experiencing sex.

Me?

I fall in the camp of those that have had sex but simply don’t find it enjoyable.

I want to touch on some of the misconceptions people often have about me as an A-sexual. Stick around, you might just learn something.

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Misconception #1 – I’m not waiting for Ms. Right 

It won’t take Ms. Right to change my mind on this. I’ve had enough sex to know I don’t enjoy it. Where others find pleasure in having sex with their partner; I find a nuisance.

I would rather do anything else than have sex — like entering VR or pretending to understand everything Nietzsche.   

 

Misconception #2 – It’s not out of trauma 

Sex, when you’re participating (and not enjoying) looks and feels incredibly sloppy and ridiculous.  Just two independent nervous systems covered in sweaty flesh, rubbing and thumping against each other.

Perhaps my first sexual experience was terrible…

And then the next one …

And then the next one …

And then the next one …

And then the — you get it. They can’t all have been sequentially terrible. And I’m not about to have sex again just to confirm if I really, really, don’t like it.

It took time but I just had to admit to myself that’s it’s okay not to enjoy sex as much as everyone else. There’s nothing wrong with that.

Wanna know what’s wrong? Ridiculing anyone who doesn’t share your voracious sexual appetite.

Perhaps if you weren’t obsessed with your next lay you’d be attending to your fugue state of causality problems. But don’t worry, I’ll do the thinking for the both of us.

 

Misconception #3 – I don’t hate sex. 

“You don’t!? But you just said –“

Relax. I may not enjoy sex, but I understand it’s value from a purely utilitarian perspective. We need reproduction for the human species; and if all of us were a-sexual then that would be a massive “yikes”.

I don’t mind reading or even talking about how much someone may enjoy sex. Just don’t go out of your way to ask me what I think about sex unless you’re looking for a counter-weight.

 

Misconception #4 – I get attracted too

Not obvious, but I have my own preferences. I notice when a lady has nice eyes or beautiful lips or hair. My thoughts however, don’t deviate towards kissing said lips.

I appreciate features how I would a rosy sunset. From afar —through a telescope — stalking your room from across the street.

That was a joke.

I hope 😉 

 

Misconception#5 – Wow. So you’re A-sexual? How does it feel?

I find this question funny because it’s often asked as if I have a condition that needs fixing.

You know, I could also ask how it feels to do the sloppy-mish-mash-under-the-covers thing.

I was curious about sex — had it. And when I was done with that fleshy disaster, some part of me wished I hadn’t. 

If you’re curious how life is as an a-sexual, I can tell you that there’s a lot of clarity. You have to realize it’s a little difficult admitting to yourself (especially at a younger age) that this thing most people around you enjoy, isn’t fun for you. That there’s nothing wrong with that.

Sharing this here means I’m done with the heavy lifting. It’s something I’m now at peace with.

I do think if someone enjoys sex they should dive right in and have a blast. I’m not trying to shame anyone who does by saying all of this.

 

*****

What I’m more interested in knowing is what your experience has been with other a-sexuals you’ve met. Pleasant? Unpleasant? Indifferent? Let me know.

 

– O.D. ©2021

 

Art by:  mynameistran

Phantasm.

I tried …

But despite my best attempts; I lost her.

Lost her to cyberspace and its pervasive illusion of success.

“Success” — Ushered and perpetuated by pseudo-woke

Profit-driven messiahs preaching prosperity to conflicted souls —

All to fuel a cyclical engine that produces and consumes

For the sake of producing and consuming.

She was reeled in by a soft sell of Poyais —

Hypnotized by a happiness alluded to by corporations intent on selling products

They themselves would never wish to use.

Of course I lost her … 

How do you compete against a mirage?

A mirage sold through a virtual wasteland overclocking our sensory input

A bazaar of theoretical futures yet to bed actuality.

No, I never lost her.

The world already had her.

  – O.D. ©2021

Art by:  Murciano

Questions You Are Yet To Ask (2)

Question you are yet to ask (1)

My birthday was this week. It was nice, I guess.

I had a few stand-out conversations that i’ll touch on today. Hopefully you’ll learn something new about me.

 

So, uh, children?

My choice to not have children isn’t because I’m a hard-a** incapable of caring or loving. I’m afraid to mess up; much like many of the “adults” I grew up with. To have my son/daughter feel how I felt towards these adults is the last thing I would ever want.

Many people want kids. But very few know what it means to be a parent (except in name alone). If it wasn’t already obvious, my proclivity towards community isn’t exactly steady. I will wait until I have genuine desire to have a family then act on this. Until then …no experiments.

I want to do it right — it can’t be perfect but I want it to come pretty damn close.

 

Thoughts on romance?

No thanks.

(I suppose I have to say why)

Relationships are work. And I know people who are quick to say when you meet the right person it won’t feel like work. I agree.

Because when you’re in love i.e. drugged up, all inhibitions fly out the window. You enter a sort of fugue state – auto-pilot mode (if you will). I can’t have that happen — lose myself to someone. There is too much value in who I am as an individual.

The world is changing. And with it, the people too. My idea of attraction is tied to this unfortunately.  Unless our values align, I don’t really find someone attractive. I can  acknowledge how pretty a lady is from an objective stand point but that hardly settles it for me.

Doesn’t really help that I rarely get out of my house. I know, I’m to blame for this whole thing too. Regardless, if I run solo at the end of this — I won’t be pointing fingers. That’s just the way my story would have gone.

 

Do you have any pets?

I really want a cat — but in case my narcissistic stalkers see this and try to one up me I’ll say I want a dog instead. If they get both i’ll get a snake — what can I say, I enjoy giving copycats causality problems.

 

How is your mental health?

I haven’t felt like killing myself for over a year. That’s a plus. I have tried to be kinder to myself, seems to be working — kinda. I’m doing my best. I have found ways to harness my inner joy by not surrounding myself with people that try to steal or invalidate it. 

 

Thoughts on sex

Probably ties into romance a little. Did I ever tell you that I might be A-sexual? I’m 90% convinced. I can get attracted to women during a conversation but I don’t have sex on my mind when that happens. I consider this a blessing — many people are beautiful on the outside, but the inside — yikes.

Once had a sex addicted girlfriend — assumed I was cheating because I never asked for sex lol I can’t say I blame her. She was used to guys asking for sex during the first month of dating.

Anyway — it doesn’t matter how curvaceous your body is. It’s nothing until I see how you genuinely treat others. To be fair, it will be nothing even when I see you treat people well. I’ll be too distracted by your aura lol

As for sex itself — well, I wasn’t impressed the first time and I’m still not impressed. 

 

Memories of being the bad guy?

Jeez, I’ve lost count. I can be a real a** sometimes. I have trouble with authority figures that like micro-managing. I’m trying to work on that. 

I’m a poor, poor, poor, poor communicator. Keeping in touch is quite difficult for me. And at times I leave people feeling neglected. But when it comes to energy vampires that’s purely by design.

Too cynical — I may not voice it in person. But I assume the worst until I have gathered evidence that supports otherwise. May come across as pessimism to those that don’t know me. 

I can be harsh and very critical if someone repeats a mistake. Particularly in situations when I would’ve discussed with said person ways to avoid the problem. 

My undying desire for autonomy sometimes makes me push away people that could have potentially been good friends. Sorry.

My need for precision and logical consistency clashes with our irrational behavior as human beings. Sometimes, when Tom and Susan mess up, all they want to hear from their friend is that everything will be alright and not a play-by-play of what they could have done better.

I could go on and on but for now I think I’ve covered most of my glaring flaws.

 

– O.D. ©2021

 

Art by:  RHADS

 

 

 

 

Asch Conformity.

You say you have all my boxes ticked …

Error: They’re cubes.

Please tell me,

How many sides have you missed?

 

– O.D. ©2021

 

Art by: theirison

 

If you want to build engagement. Tell people what they want to hear despite your personal beliefs. Prime them for more sweet nothings. Build a platform they can come to whenever they are having a bad day. Toss in a famous quote here and a self-help book there. Can’t teach them how to walk on their own two feet. No. They’ll need you for that *bzzt*

Does poetry carry more meaning when it has a message? When it seeks to topple empires and shed light on the evil that’s in the world? Is that what poetry is? Because if that’s all it is… then poetry is garbage.

I don’t write poetry because it has rules. Poetry is owned by the poet and whatever manner of energy they pull from the universe. A sort of symbiosis. (but that’s my interpretation)

I believe poetry can’t be owned by any principle. Poetry for the sake of poetry is already compelling. If it’s spliced with a message. Great.

If it carries a feeling or a sensation from a moment. Awesome.

Not one or the other is the hallmark of great poetry.

*Bzzt* Death of the  Author Poet essentially marks a part of my philosophy regarding this. I will not pretend to have something profound to say. Because if you know me, you know how little I care about changing the world. It’s none of my business until it reaches my doorstep. It never used to be like this. I used to care. And maybe I still do (too much even) — but it sucks seeing things staying the same …. … … *bzzt*

Sorry, lost connection there. I hope you’re having a nice day. 

 

 

Star Dust(er).

“Contempt prior to investigation”

Daydream about my failure

Knowing that’s where that reality starts and ends

As a compound to the makings of a flawed theoretical capacity.

– O.D. ©2021

Art by:  robrey

There are many crimes we’ve come to identify over the course of history; and many others we’ll continue to uncover as the world changes. But one that continues to get to me the most is the stealing of dreams.

I’m talking about breaking someones’ spirit till they choose not to do something they love.

This is perhaps one of the most evil things I’ve ever witnessed. And it may sound like I’m catastrophizing, but the truth is when someone has their dream stolen from them (either through devaluation or invalidation) — well, I feel the world has lost something.

Don’t let anyone break your spirit. Most people think they know everything– including what’s best for you. They don’t.

<<The following part is for lovers of the strawman>>

I’m not saying don’t listen to people entirely. I’m saying listen to people within reason. Don’t just flow.

Spin.

If you could spend a second in my shoes

You would come to the same realization:

That what you think of me doesn’t matter.

I have enough personality to play the part of the father,

The mother, the suicidal son, the closeted daughter

And the posse of deviants hiding in the reeds

— Waiting for lights out …

Because they’ve been casing the family’s house for weeks.

– O.D. ©2021

Art by: theirison