Electrified

Too much energy.

Too much energy to know what to do.

Too much to know how to think.

I can't think straight.

I can't straighten out my feelings.

I can't feel out my intensity.

I wish you were around.

I wish you were around to hold me.

I wish your grip were here to put me to sleep.

Please be able to handle it.

Please be able to open it.

Please be able to control it.

Strung on a live wire...

Clipped by a thread...

Balancing on a razor blade...

Let me jump.

Let me fall.

Let me cut away.

<Stop it>

<Get a grip on yourself.>

<Find some patience.>

<Cut it out.>

Fine.

You always shut me down.

<You always need shut up.>

Motionless

I miss it.

It's been a week.

I crave it.

I've been stuck laying around.

At first it was fine, relaxing even.

But now it's grueling.

At first it was boredom.

All I had to do was entertain myself.

It was only stagnation.

But now...

It's an itch.

It's the tightness in my body.

It's boiling electricity in my veins.

It has to be released.

It can be stagnant no more.

The Twilight Zone

*First stanza and each first line written before going under, the rest was done about ten minutes after waking up.

It's said to be...

Semi consciousness.

You don't remember.

Like sleeping, but not exactly.

It's actually...

Something like a nap.

You don't remember the actual surgery.

It's a bit like a nap.

The aftermath...

Fine motor skills are normal.

Major motor skills are sub par.

You might just be tipsy.

It feels like your moving in slow motion.

Really you just want to sleep some more.

Needless Nerves

Waiting.

Need to kill time. Need to calm excitement.

Sitting in front of light, watching explosions;

It works for some time.

But as the clock ticks that excitement freezes into nervous itch.

Sweaty palms and heat in my face.

What will I say after the story?

[Why do I need a story to start a conversation?]

So I distract myself with string.

I hook organization from chaos.

Gives myself something concrete to see.

But then it's time.

And it's so simple.

Words come <smooth as butter>.

Nerves fall away and leave content.

It was only in my head.

Without even trying, we are intertwining.

Matches

I saw the match.

I found the box.

I touched the match to the striker.

I chose not to strike the match.

Timing is everything.

Patience means the world.

Fear is natural.

Courage is key.

Confidence grows connection.

Where is the line?

The line between patience and fear.

When is time out?

The moment where biding time becomes wasting time.

What marks a dead end?

The realization lingering is actually stagnation.

This match, this opportunity, this crossroad:

I can touch the box.

I can strike the match into flame.

But it will take two to keep the flame alight.

Fear is an illusion.

Timing. Patience. Courage. Confidence.

Tangles

Writing. Writing. Writing.

I should be writing an essay.

Typing. Typing. Typing.

All I can do is aimless typing.

I feel the words inside my head,

But only tangles of words surface.

I know what should be said,

But only scattered thoughts fill the space.

Why can I not unravel my brain?

Why must this essay give me such pain?

Why do I need to struggle and strain?

I try to follow a linear thought.

My mind wants to jump and run around.

Skipping through topics and switching comes naturally.

Writing to another place makes for fascination.

Because I need to stretch.

Because learning requires uncomfortableness.

Because it is okay to feel some pressure.

Instrumental Beauty

So many people,

So little room,

So much eager energy.

First a calm.

It lulled everyone into a secure foundation.

The energy stabilized at a gentle rest.

Then the excitement.

It yanked us into a new sphere.

The energy snowballed into a mass.

Now anxiety.

Our excitement changed form.

The energy wanted to break away from control.

Tantalizing.

Anxiety melted into something less stressful.

The energy gave in to attempting compromise.

A transition to playfulness.

We return to a dreamy state - no darkness.

The energy is content, its cycle complete.

Their fingers did the work while their bodies became the music.

Where do their minds go?

Do they stay aware of the present?

Do they slip into another world?

Stringed keys and a metal tube,

All it took to take control.

Hazy

I am angry.

<Why?>

I feel used.

<How?>

I played into a game and I don't feel good about that.

<Explain what you mean by "game".>

The setup of the tasks is a game.

The task is trivial, harmless.

We are given clear instructions this is voluntary.

We were told participation is by choice multiple times...

So it is a game.

Only a game.

<What is the purpose of this "game"?>

Bonding.

I think it is a tradition done to the newbies.

We experience it together.

We survive it together.

<It seems like you understand there is no harm intended.>

<Also, you are aware no harm is being committed.>

<So what is your problem with it?>

This "game" is bull shit.

It is fun in the moment,

But after the fact I feel used:

We are puppets of the clan,

Our confusion is their pleasure.

I feel angry:

My mind disagrees with my spirit.

~ Stay true to your values, not to yourself.~

<Explanation?>

My values tell me this is fucked up bull shit.

My spirit wants to beat the masterminds of this "game".

So I wonder:

Do I beat the game by playing and one-upping...

or

Do I beat the game by having the courage to abandon participation.

I tend to isolate myself from group junk like this,

And sometimes that leaves me alone.

But I also am not afraid to stay me,

Even if that means going against the grain.

<You have a like-mind to talk with.>

<Wait for the discussion between your minds.>

<But always remember, take care of yourself;>

<That includes your psyche.>

Note taken.

I will follow through with it.

'21s Ablaze

The wood piles up.

The morning rain has subsided.

The moment is nearly at hand.

Hit the first floor for some East Wheelock fun;

Draw on some face paint and snap some glow sticks.

Patience struggles to control impending excitement.

Take a short walk... stop on the stairs.

Wait for the others...

Soon the mob becomes visible.

Join the throng!

Last but not least!

The excitement is too much;

Jog to enter sooner.

RUN. RUN. RUN.

The wood is quiet,

Then suddenly a spark alights...

And in the next moment a roaring blaze.

Everyone is hyper and the adrenaline is palpable.

The first few laps are solo.

Then I spot them,

And we run together.

The mob splits us apart,

So off again at my own pace.

A few times around and I find them again.

It has almost been 21 laps.

2 more to go.

The last lap:

I sprint for the heck of it.

I weave in and out of people,

Trying to stay vigilant so as not to collide.

My legs know no pain; I have unlimited energy.

It is done. I made the 21.

I continue, searching again for them.

Another long run later I find them.

They are with our other friends;

It is good to see everyone in one place.

We finished. Everyone made their twenty-one laps.

Time to hit the (hard-earned) showers.

Mockery

You are an abomination.

You took a bond and turned it into chains.

You are a disgrace.

You would be disgusted by me yet you fashion yourself plastic.

You are only a role model to me in error.

You play the victim yet never look in the mirror at the damage you leave.

You think of me so highly.

You favor me wrongly over the others.

You neglect the one of us who still has loyalty to you.

You know me not at all.

You would hate me if you knew me. 

Throw me out? Send me to conversion? 

Not sure but something bad.

I know you.

I'm not proud of you.

XD ^.^

When we met I knew you not.

When we met I only knew you by hair colors.

When we met I only saw your quietness.

Time went on and I knew you more.

I learned your life.

I learned your smarts.

I learned your family.

School kept us on our toes.

I watched you work.

I watched you study.

I watched you grow.

Life got busy.

I watched you from afar.

I kept tabs on you.

I tried to keep you in the loop of my life.

Shit happens.

I helped you out of heartbreak.

I helped you find your footing.

I helped you see there's more to live for.

You helped me grow.

You showed me a life outside my own.

You taught me a new perspective.

You showed me strength and bravery and courage.

School's a trip, and we made it.

We finished.

We continued.

We pushed ourselves.

Life's still a bitch.

School still keeps us on our toes.

I am so proud of you.

You rose up from everything playing against you.

You made hard choices.

You kept going.

Remember:

You are smart.

You are beautiful.

You deserve the best.

You make your life.

^.^

Grace

Your unicorn is that stranger,

That stranger whom you see everywhere,

See everywhere yet never connect with,

never connect with in conversation.

I have discovered many unicorns,

Unicorns whom I most often pass in the dining hall.

I have discovered it is rewarding to meet your unicorn,

Your unicorn may become a best friend...

Maybe even something more.

If you meet your unicorn, is that person now a horse?

I guess it could make sense:

Unicorns are mysterious; horses mundane.

You first know nothing of your person, until you meet,

Then the mystery of your person is gone -- merely another person.

<But all people are different>

<But all people have a mysterious side>

True.

But not everyone seems mysterious despite constant, passive interaction.

But not everyone is met in the unicorn fashion.

I wonder if my unicorn finds me mysterious,

Mysterious enough to get to know me more.

I wonder if we'll be the sort who become something more,

More than acquaintances,

More than mundane friends.

<Guess your unicorn person still holds their mysterious side>

Location

I live in a world where creativity meets insanity and genius marries stupidity.

I live in a bubble which is being stretched and tested.

I live in a maze with neither an exit nor a center.

My hallway bears facades.

My floor conceals actions.

My walls leak secrets.

My wheels spins endlessly.

My feet travel without rest.

My mind races time.

The vague becomes clear.

The clear becomes murky.

The dimness swallows the silver lining.

The lighting announces the path.

Where the path splits, one side is favored.

The road less traveled appears misunderstood.

The path well worn is perceived as distrusted.

Chance A Yes… Let Everything play out… because Yolo

<Why would you do that?>

Why not?

<You pretty much knew how it would go…>

Of course, but it was worth a shot.

I'd rather have taken the chance than do nothing and wonder.

<And you're not afraid of awkwardness?>

Nope;

I find that to be an immature line of thought.

You have to give people permission to say no

Without strings attached.

Besides, I wasn't going anywhere with the idea;

It was a one-time fun trial.

<I see your point…just be careful with people.>

<A spark can be entertaining…>

<But don't fool yourself into believing you can control it.>

Of course. Note taken.

Trade

I glanced you in the dimness of dusk.

I asked you to come without reminds,

And to bring with you trust,

So together we may lose our minds.

You ran away on sight;

I let you escape into the wild.

The consequences were not worth a fight.

But you returned so I must have been beguiled.

Together we slipped into the brush

Where spies cannot discover our hiding place.

Hidden from eyes sound was merely a hush,

And darkness soaked all space.

There we intended to remain

Where forever we traded a mind for a brain.

The 2 Gender Rules

There are 2 genders of people: 

Artists and Athletes

Rule #1

All artists are mentally crazy;

It's where creativity lives.

Why is it that artists always seem to have a streak - or rather perhaps brushfulls - of anxiety, depression, or some other characteristic deemed a problem.

Perhaps creativity is not something humans can handle.

It makes the mind run rampant attempting to escape.

Its energy is overflowing;

It can be flowing, smooth, but also violent and sharp.

It can be harnessed as a tool and used to fashion awe-inspiring wonders,

Or it can be an onerous nerve itching to be put to use. 

Positive or negative, creativity will make its presence known. 

Rule #2

All athletes are masochistic to some degree.

No pain to gain.

Why would anyone induce pain?

Perhaps it's not the pain they're after,

Rather they want the benefits strung to it.

The personal challenge.

The competition. 

The feeling of accomplishment.

The unconscious release of endorphins.

The resulting body and health.

Their energy is a live wire.

It demands release in the raw form of physical movement.

Suppress it and the wire takes over.

It finds an outlet of destructive nature.

*Update:  This was published in Dartmouth's "Stonefence Review" magazine in the Fall 2017 issue with the title "Re-imaging the Gender Spectrum".

Always the Villain : Always the Victim

[I cannot believe where we are now.]

[I cannot believe I am made the villain again.]

[I cannot believe you would do that to me.]

[I gave you my soul.]

[I gave you my time.]

[I gave you all I have to offer.]

[Never did I not listen.]

[Never did I give you a reason to doubt.]

[Never did I make you less than priority.]

[I am lost because of the position you put me in.]

[I am confused as what to do.]

[I am overflowing with emotion - words are not enough anymore.]

I am so sorry this happened to you.

I wish I could help you undo what went wrong.

I always got your back.

<I never thought I would be here>

<I don't know how I got here.>

<I woke up and realized this wasn't for me.>

<I thought I was happy.>

<I thought I had the world.>

<I lost my train of thought.>

<I guess I wasn't ready.>

<I guess I was too immature to handle it.>

<I guess it was time to move on.>

How dare you do this to my friend.

How dare you disgrace him with your excuses.

How dare you crawl to me to dig you out of your pit.

Racer

I never thought you would make first contact again.

I am curious to know what it says;

I am too nervous to look.

Immediately my heart is racing and I want to run.

All I want is to run.

I don't know what my destination would be.

I really want to run back to you.

I'm still in the belief we did the right thing.

But ties don't break as easily as words.

The mere fact you make me have to express amazes me.

Cuddles

There are two flavors:

This one is without bounds.

It is quite simple really.

It makes one happy.

It lets one know they are safe to relax.

It is a warm green.

This one is reserved.

It is easy yet complex.

It also makes one happy, and also satiated.

It lets one know they are secure to raze all protective walls.

It is a pulsing rainbow of all colors of the spectrum.

<But why cuddles?>

Because touch binds us.

Because cuddles is a natural soothing mechanism.

Because cuddles feel nice.

<And why should platonic cuddles be different than romantic cuddles?>

It's not the cuddles that's different;

It's the context which carries different weight.

It's the difference of level of attachment.

Pronoun Play

DISCLAIMER: The title of this post is referring to "playing" with pronouns in the linguistic sense. As it turns out the different words make for interesting writing organization.

He was someone I knew from track.

He was sweet, so I gave him a chance.

We had our hangouts;

It was fun, though not very eventful.

I cut him loose. I felt no pain.

He is lost to the past.

Sometimes I wonder what became of him.

She was someone I met through cheer.

She was fascinating; I didn't know it, but I was wishing I got the chance.

Sometimes we got to hang;

It was somehow something I always longed for again.

Our paths diverged. I suffered in the new distance.

Tenuous ties still string us together.

I keep tabs on her to know what's up.

Xe was someone I met in GSA Club.

Xe was magnetic, and we gave each other a chance.

Multiple times we hung out;

Always it was like being on a euphoric high.

Our planned-time ran out. It was sad yet bearable, and it was quite simple.

Right now our ties are cut;

Time will tell if we regain them after adjusting.

I still miss xer and hope to reconnect as friends later.

College-Bound

I will miss my high school.

It was a good place.

I had fun; I worked; I learned.

I will miss the friends I made.

I chose few; few chose me.

The ones I least seen were the most genuine.

I will miss the person I met.

The memories we created are permanent.

New separation... 

It will take time to fill the nostalgic abyss.

But I look forward to where I am going.

The cold will bite harder then I've known;

The people will be unlike I've met.

It will finally be a world of my own.

I look forward to new friends.

I look forward to new experience.

I look forward to new knowledge.

I'm ready to go out on my own.

I'm ready to create myself.

I'm ready to carve my own path.

Jump

It's time to jump that cliff.

We've found the summit so our journey is done.

I will greatly miss what we encountered.

I am having trouble releasing the bind:

Merely words, but also a way of thinking,

And an intangible attachment.

I've been running on a special high,

And its kept its hold for a while now…

Coming back to earth will be so mundane.

There's no way to chase that high again,

Not for a long while into the future at least…

~wind gains speed~

~heart begin losing purchase on attachment~

~memories move into holding cells~

~satisfaction become nostalgia~

~eyes look into an abyss~

~something is now missing~