Finite-State Machine.

There was no we,

Only what she needed me to be.

– O.D. ©2020

Art by: Gydw1n

Kindling For A Falling Bridge.

I suppose thinking you would stay stuck in the past

Was a little too much to ask,

You surface to the top of my current thoughts

With the dark and oozy persistence

Of an off-shore oil spill.

— You’re unwanted,

You kill the formation of my ideas often,

Your idea of living comes off to me as foreign

Your understanding of bonding bears the likeness

Of a grassy field at the periphery of erosion.

I won’t hide the bad thoughts I have when I think of you

I hold my values and speak only what I believe to be true

I don’t expect, nor hope, that you’ll hear my words and agree

I only empty my lungs, exorcising your flimsy demon out of me.

The radical would say you’re straddling satanic

You? Hardly.

I’d settle for simply calling you moronic —

— Idiotic, as you preach mindfulness from the comfort of an invisible pulpit

The sole of your shoes bound to the rustic pedestal of a f*cking narcissist.

Don’t tell me about language

If you paid attention you’d know I’ve since had it.

Go ahead, flatter yourself into thinking I wrote this for you.

Please, I dare you. Chug it all down.

Soon after, pay no mind to the sensation of your insides forming lesions,

Tends to happen when you try and digest the sharpness of a wit you can’t fathom.

I write — I breathe, life into each piece

It’s a hard tilt — unfiltered by my loyalty to the path of a creative

No experience of mine is beyond comodifying,

— Liquidating and displaying on a fine sheet of paper.

As such, you and the lint that was our tether

Will be of further use in lining my passion as a writer.

There are no good or bad choices

Only regrets,

When it comes to those — I have many

But the kindling offered by our shared experience

Assures you’ll never reach the worth of being one.

– O.D. ©2020

Art by: Gydw1n

Update No.5 *Recording Included*

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Small status update.

Indeed, I have a voice too. If you had yet to hear it, well, here it is. There are many other posts I’ve voiced in the past; for those interested.

4 minute listen

 

– O.D. ©2020

 

Art by: RHADS 

Padding.

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I’m a writer. Of course — words mean everything to me.

It’s when your actions go against everything you say

That I, as a writer, can openly admit

That (your) “Words mean nothing to me”

 

– O.D. ©2020

 

Art by: GUWEIZ

 

I love you, yes you.

Totally unrelated, I know. But I also have nice things to say sometimes, dear reader.

Stay safe.

Ridiculousiology (Final)

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*Ridiculousiology 1 * Ridiculousiology 2 Ridiculousiology (3): Friendly-fire edition*

 

Want to hear a joke?

Life, that’s what.

Fact is, anything can be funny.

You don’t have to believe what I say to be true.

You just have to change the context.

 

– O.D. ©2020

 

Art by: snatti89 

 

I find the philosophy of absurdism to be relatively comical, how humans seek to build meaning or find inherent value in a universe that is completely indifferent to their presence. Because the alternative is scary, isn’t it? Believing there’s nothing leaves you with nothing. If there’s no meaning to anything then there’s no point to anything. A nihilist’s wet dream for sure.

Life sucks (I know, ‘boo-hoo’ right?) everyone knows this but hear me out. Truth is, there is strength in rebelling against a seemingly ‘cursed’ fate such as this. By rebellion, I don’t mean being reckless, self-sabotage or suicide. 

See, I think of Sisyphus in this instance. For those that don’t know Sisyphus, he is a figure in Greek mythology who was punished by Zeus to forever roll a boulder up a hill. Every time he would push it to the top, it would roll down and he would have to do it again and again. This entire process can be likened to life in general. The end is sealed, we are not in control of this process. Our irrational universe is.

…. But the interesting thing to this story is how it proceeds beyond this point.

Sisyphus knowing his fate to be sealed, knowing there was no escape, did something that the Greek gods did not expect. He embraced his fate. Instead of toiling in misery and frustration over the boulder rolling down, he made a game out of it. He found ways to enjoy it, getting creative despite his circumstances. This is the rebellion I’m talking about. The gods were left furious and confused as the punishment did not achieve its intended purpose.

Life may suck sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t enjoy the view on the way down. Have fun. Do stupid things for the sake of it.

Just the other day I slept upside-down. Woke up confused, but that subtle change made all the difference for the rest of the day.

Hell, tomorrow I plan on brushing my teeth with my left (and weaker) hand. Why? Because I can. And because I’ll laugh at myself in the mirror.

And the day after? I’ll walk around my house nude, because why the hell not right?  

 

Absent.

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Dear stranger,

Your opinion of me

Is about as misplaced

As the. Dot

In this sentence

 

– O.D. ©2020

 

Art by: Aenami

 

 

 

Fleeting.

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I spoke to the void, it spoke back.

How? some might ask. Well,

When you’ve made a habit of speaking to nothing for as long as I have

Your whispers are bound to eventually reverberate into echoes

That, in due time, re-introduce themselves back to you.

 

Is this me? Wishing this hard to be proven wrong.

Wasting time fantasizing about a lucid embrace entangling itself with actuality

It’s a nightmare,

When you assume what you love has left you behind.

Its hell,

When reality testifies on how tight you clutch yourself at night

Bridging fleeting connections with phantoms as fragile as the tender veil 

Blanketing your world of illusion.

 

You can’t lose something that was never there;

Mend your broken heart, young warrior,

Do not hold yourself bound to a love

That finds itself forever fleeing with the first shades of dawn.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: snatti89

 

I’m thinking of putting out a voice note in the form of a status update. If anyone is interested in the idea please let me know.

His/Hers.

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I’ve grooved through familiar tunes.

I’ve been entranced by the same pitch –

– the same dance, many times over.

How am I the pessimist

For simply knowing how it ends?

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: Aenami

 

 

Overclocked.

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The clock hands wind themselves into an unending spiral,

Fast-forward and they look like rotor blades

Levitating whichever moment they are bound to.

I don’t speak in jest when I lace my words into an elaborate analogy 

That better accentuates how fast time flies.

 

We live through the same time yet we run a race in different lanes

Try to peer into mine and all you’ll see, is me,

Playing skip rope with what you best understand as the finish line.

I write the best I have to offer with mirrors as a recipient;

These words are me, 

If asked to look at someone, and use them as a muse;

Who else would it be?

 

I discard the limitations of feasibility with each beat

 The swiftness of my ink runs in parallel with a shooting star

Don’t be snared by the how, but by the why,

Try not to judge my self-appraisal

You learn to be an expert at navigating your own thoughts and emotions 

When you’re a refugee in the realm of a narcissist.

And that’s about as much backstory you’ll get out of me

From this incremental dose of poetry. 

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: Aenami

 

Love yourself fiercely, but not at the cost of basic human dignity ❤

Alter.

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Solitude often feeds eventual madness,

Jeez, you’re telling me …..

Being uncompromising with my authenticity

Often means, I lose friends faster than I make them.

 

Sticking to my identity is a conscious decision

Staying true to myself despite the circumstances 

Means I end up disappointing someone regardless

It means in the eyes of those around me I sometimes come across as selfish

An acceptable casualty I’m willing to contend with 

Even as I get noteworthy push-back from outside influences.

 

Many are quick to steer you, quick to try and build harmony 

In a way that makes them feel good.

I question the validity

Of people founding terms which they believe are definitive enough

For anyone who they believe to be morally upright.

Respectfully denying their embrace, by default, brands you the next Führer.

 

Because harmony obviously means submission,

Harmony – if their position is to be entertained – is putting your free will on hold

Leaving choices on what’s best for you in their capable hands.  

 

You assume a position you have not earned

You trust me and immediately think I trust you

Yet you have no knowledge of how little I trust my own shadow.

My seclusion from much of what the world has to offer

Is a natural conclusion born of multiple cycles

Helping me formulate what I want

To be me, outside of you.

 

– O.D. ©2019

 

Art by: Aenami