On Finding Joy

Joy.

At what age do you stop searching for your joy and start living someone else's? 

Short Answer. Never. 

Long Answer. 

If you really start to take a look at life and happiness and joy, it probably comes as no surprise that most of us spend the majority of our days charged with fear. Fear of disappointing the heavens and the Earth and their preconceived notions on how we should or shouldn't be living our lives. On how we must concede our dreams, or at least consolidate and place them neatly on the shelf until the dust runs thick. We must not sell our souls for the easy, the standard, the unafraid. We must live large. We must stay wild. 

They (parents, teachers, bosses, husbands, wives, etc.) don't decide your role on this Earth. They don't control your happiness. They do not have social standing over you to determine what is deemed right or wrong in the book of life. Because guess what? The book is made up. There is no book. 

Only your story. One that would be wasted if it wasn't filled with your triumphs and failures. One that should be honest and unforgiving and full of rights and wrongs and everything in between. Stories with torn pages and smudged type. Lessons big and small. Heartbreak and jubilation. 

See, I don't think joy simply means happiness. No, it's much more complex than that. Joy is living each day knowing that when your story ends, it won't be an afterthought. It won't be placed on a coffee table to look pretty and well-maintained.

Let it burst from the seams and speak volumes. Let it touch every single emotion. Let it run it's course into the dark and back out again. Let it weep. Let it shine. 

Let your story be joy.

Upon The Shore: Get Yourself Wet

It's okay to be broken. The world is full of once-broken souls with remarkable stories. Pain is a constant and joy is fleeting. That's pretty much what living is, after all, right? Creating storybooks in the back of our minds full of memorable moments and forgettable flashes of life?

When I sit back and really analyzed my existence, I realized something; the ratio of superb to mundane days heavily favors the latter. That's not to say I am not a happy person, however. Most days I have a chipper disposition towards my surroundings, but inside of me, a fire full of angst, anxiety, hopes, and dreams roars and I'm unsure which way the wind is blowing. There are days where I feel defeated, where I want to give in, and lay down for a long winters' nap. Moments where I feel like a faded wallflower; dust floating through the air. One thing that brings me relief is knowing I am not alone in feeling.

You might perceive a strong connection to the words I struggle to find. Words to accurately depict how life can be the gentlest, kindest soul and an unforgiving bitch the next. One thing life never does, though, is give you a moment to catch up. With or without you, it will keep rambling on, waiting to lift you up or beat you down. A lot of times, it's truly is up to you. You can sit and be complacent, self-loathing, and unremarkable or you can shake the dust that has accumulated on your heart and allow yourself to breathe again. There isn't an easy fix to a broken heart. If there was, I'm sure it would have gone viral by this point.

Our hearts are fascinating and unique and troublesome and stubborn. Inside of them live all the stories that make it a one-of-a-kind. And while it's an extremely difficult endeavor to lace up your shoes and go out seeking for the next great story, especially after finishing the ending of a painful one, it's worth it. Do not let your life become ordinary. Forget play-it-safe. You were put here to create moments, both beautiful and bleak. Divine and disheartening. Marvelous and melancholic.

It's usually the best ones that come with some risk.

-DD

Dear Me: A Letter on Life

Dear Dylan, 

By now, you've probably seen Back To The Future. I know it might be scary to read something from the future for fear of changing history, but I can assure you that everything below is just sound advice meant to shape you into the person you are supposed to become. 

You're fourteen, which means you're going to be starting high school next year. I remember high school. It was a lot of fun. I made a lot of mistakes. Some of which I'd really appreciate if you could try and avoid. If you get the urge to sneak out, don't go over to you know who's house. I won't tell you why, just know that I am looking out for your best interests. If you're parents are driving you nuts, just remember that they are still trying to protect their baby boy. It might seem crazy to think one day you'll miss the moments of nagging and telling you 'no', but trust me, you will.

You are very impressionable at 14. Don't fall victim to the users and abusers. They are hiding in plain sight, waiting to take your spirit out of you. Trust your instincts and the beautiful heart you have inside. You don't understand this now, but you are unique and interesting and people are going to seek that out one day. They are going to search for souls who want to experience life in it's purest forms. Stay honest with your morals and don't sacrifice for anything.

It's hard at your age. You want to fit in. You want to be well-liked. I get it. But who are you going to become if you try and be like everyone else? A mere shell of yourself. A mold that has the edges that look like you, but an interior that lacks any convictions.

Don't stop doing what you love to do, regardless of what the world around you says. Go out and smell the air. Have some tea, read a book, expand your essence. Find a girl, let her go. Do not dwell on the heartache. I promise the right one is waiting. Forget about the jealousy and the near-sightedness of your peers, for they are but a small sample of the vast world around you.

Most importantly, believe in yourself. You have so much potential to be great. I know this because I was once, too, in your very shoes. I know the difficulties that you are going to face and I know you have the strength and the courage to overcome them. It's easy to say this now, as a much older, experienced version of you, but if you hold onto your passions and you don't sacrifice them for who you think you want to be now, you'll be on the fast-track to a life one can only marvel at.

You're gonna move mountains someday kid, just make sure those mountains aren't full of washed-up dreams not true to your heart. Take a huge, 14 year-old, risk and simply let you be you. You won't regret it.

Cheers,

Dylan

In remembrance of my former life...

Jenks coughed his way through the hospital doors with me by his side. I was starting to think maybe he was the one that could use a little time in Intensive Care after the way he hacked a lung throughout the halls. We finally reached the elevator and stood await as it made its way down. Fifth floor, Fourth floor, three, two, one. I could feel myself starting to clench up. My stomach did it's best elevator impersonation as it dropped a few stories. Some interns pushed their way out with grimace on their faces, looking hellbent on finding some solace in a place far away from here. We stepped aboard and rode in silence to the 7th floor.
  "I better go in first, just to make sure she's stable and all is on the up and up." Jenks said.

  "Okay," was all I could muster when inside I was screaming for an escape. 

  I stood against a wall staring at some kitsch art fastened to the wall. It was an eagle soaring through the sky. It reminded me of a particular time with my father in the Catskills. We would watch the eagles and hawks circle prey from above and then nosedive downward until they captured it. I always wanted to be that free. I snapped out of it when a man in a white coat began talking to me.
 "Tom, right?"
 "Uh, yeah. Yeah, I'm Tom."
 "From what I've taken away from talking to Officer Jenkins, it looks like you were her last contact. Listen, Tom. Jenny was hit crossing the street. We put her into a coma to try and alleviate pressure on her brain, and so far everything is stable. What is your relationship with her?"
"Uhm, well, I, uh, we just kind of met."
"Then there's no easy way to say this. She came in alert, screaming for Tom. I am assuming that's you. Now, from what we can tell, she seems to be suffering from amnesia. To put it in the simplest terms, she only knows who you are."
 Shit. What can I do now? I've spent my entire life working to be absent during tumultuous times. Now I am thrown into the thick of it, deeply entrenched in a situation I can't escape.
"I don't even know who I am."

Part One

Part Two

Work In Progress (Me and You and Everyone We Know)

I was born with purpose. What that is, I'm still working on. Maybe the reason I grace this earth is the same reason I am writing to you. Maybe I am poised to be the voice for all the intricate souls like mine that vow to not lead a life of quiet desperation (thanks, Thoreau). Maybe the exact reason I was formed from the stars in the sky is to let you know you are not alone. Every day of your life has been another puzzle piece to the big picture, leading up to the moment when your seemingly uninteresting, bleak existence reveals its beauty. Maybe that's why I'm here. Maybe not. Maybe my puzzle is yet to be finished.

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Let's getaway
Find our center
Harness our chi
Do anything off the beaten path
That will allow us to stop grasping
For straws and make us take a glimpse
Into our hearts.
Let's search for the reason
We exist and continue a life
That will help us become whole.

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I don't know why I was made. I haven't found the solution to why I experience such highs and lows. My disposition towards the world is still shades of grey. All I know is there is vibrance in the universe, in each and every one of us. There is peace in the most volatile places, and there is goodness in hostile homes. And to me, that's what this is all for.

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The places we go and the people we meet all become a part of our story. No matter how short or otherwise insignificant an encounter may seem, these all become bits of our heart. Take on these moments with open arms, let the adventure find you. If for once you push instead of pull, the world might astound you.

A Taste Of The True Life

I've been at this fork in the road for some time now. Every second of every day I try and wrap my mind around which road to take to give me the life I imagined. It's utterly annoying and incredibly disheartening to be at a constant climax of what I think I need and what I truly want. The only problem with this situation is the actual pinpointing of what my wants are. I find myself good at a handful of things. I still have yet to find that piece of me that makes me shine. You might think I am being a narcissistic, self-loathing schmuck, but I refuse to let my grain-of-sand life become any more minor than it already is in the grand scheme. Maybe I struggle with the fact that being a grandiose gentleman isn't in the cards for me, but the main puzzle of my existence is finding that twinkling star in the sky that is meant for me. Finding it and holding it tight, never letting it gas out, and keeping the light shining. Perhaps this is just a part of growing into one's self. But who knows? We haven't ever crossed this bridge before. What I do know, so far, is that I won't stop searching. Wondering. Pondering upon life and death and everything in between that makes up this unique, common, tumultuous, wonderful world. And I won't stop loving.

-DD

Pursuing Passion; A Vehement Attempt At Making Your Life, Your Life.

Having what we want, when we want it, isn't always on the agenda.

  Kid Dylan might beg to differ. Adult Dylan sees it as a blessing.

Do you know the sensation? Feeling like you aren't getting what you deserve. It happens everyday, to many people, in a multitudes of ways. You've got this killer personality, but members of the opposite sex breeze by without a second glance. You have all the skills to kill a new job, but a company passes. Your passion is strong, but it isn't getting you to where you wanna be. It's easy to blame other people, to blame politics, to blame blind eyes not open to experiencing your uniqueness. 

  It's been said time and time again, if you want something, go out and get it. While I believe this to be a  worthy viewpoint on life, I think there is a little more to the equation. You cannot simply strap on your boots, hit the trail, and expect it all to happen. Maybe what you lack, is the actual want for whatever it is you are setting out to do. Maybe that's just me. Some people know when they are kids. Others find their calling in college. Fireman. Police Officer. Doctor. Superman. Wife. Husband. Discoverer. I think I have yet to put a stamp on what it is my purpose for this world is. While we all have these idealistic ideas of who we are to become, my mindset fluctuates daily on who it is I am. 

  I want to wake up each day anew, making every sunrise to sunset a high-wire balancing act full of love, passion, people, and pure existence. I want to make a new trail, set it ablaze with some real, genuine, bona fide passion, and live a life that makes heads shake. No, I don't need to be remembered. I just need to know, when my head lays down for a final rest, that what I did was bliss. I guess my main point I am trying to comprehend to you is to not get bogged down within the limits you have put in front of yourselves. Maybe what you are doing just isn't what your heart was built for. Maybe your destiny is still out there waiting for you to find it. Don't ever stop seeking the freedom to truly be you.

   I know I won't. 

Mirror Mazes; An ode to who we've become and who we really are.

This post might be the most ironic piece of writing to ever be conceived. Maybe I say that with a hint of arrogance, but I think you'll see it's going to prove my point.

  Our generation is currently going through what I like to refer to as a cosmic cluster-fuck of reliance. In the past, people were generally content with sharing good news with those closest to them. Hell, some folks even went as far as keeping it to themselves in order to stem the tide or to avoid being known as a contemptible schmuck. In today's society and the virtual companionship we have hitched our wagon to, it is nothing short of pedestrian to make it known how significant our lives are. From the awesome (but not as fetch as you make it sound) job you just landed writing for so and so blabbering about such and such to the new curls you put in your hair, (seriously, they're curls) all the while time-stamping your dog's every move and making sure you mention how you are destined to become the next Scott Conant given your expertise to whip up a helluva hamburger helper. 

  Documentation. This is what we will be known for. The desire to do things, not for one's self,  but in hopes of being lauded for it. We can sit back and blame the internet for making us this way. Making us feel we need the congratulations and the adulations and the commendations of every human within our virtual reality. In retrospect, I guess everyone likes to be praised, but there's a time and place to share how well-off you've become through you're hard work. To be at a constant need to have affection from twenty, thirty, a hundred people shows just how far intimacy has succumbed since the rise of Social Media. It's no longer about the swell things you accomplish, it's about the amount of people who applaud you for whatever it is you do.

  Live for yourself, not others. Have the grit to let your work speak for itself. Chances are, if it's any good, people will take notice. If you remove it fully, all this fantasy world, parade-in-your-name bullshit, you are still as dead inside as you were before acquaintance X admired you for completing task Y. Don't let yourself become a virtual reality, a mere fragment of what you are truly capable of. Instead, go out and get it, and let yourself know it is good. It is right. It is yours.

Visiting Hours

I awoke the next morning with a stiff neck and nausea. I wasn't sure if it was caused by the smell of sterility in the air or the news I received last night, but nonetheless I needed to escape. I walked down the hallway and out into the sunlight. The feeling of the brisk February air filling my lungs brought me back to life. Well, that, and Officer Jenkins standing next to his cruiser puffing down his Class A cigarette. This wasn't a dream. What was happening around me was very real. Sirens, gurneys, and blood escaping an elderly man's carotid artery. I guess this was my proverbial awakening. For someone who has been so akin to hitting the pavement and sprinting at the first sign of things getting too real, I vowed right then and there to let this one play out. Just as I aligned my thoughts, Officer Jenkins tipped his cap to me, so I strided off my perch and towards him. He was stomping out a smoke and popping in a Tums simultaneously as I reached him.
  "You thought anymore about last night son?" he said with a mouthful of saliva, from what I assumed was a side effect of him taking antacids like they are going out of style.

  "To be frank Officer, I don't think it has hit me yet."

  "Just call me Jenks from now on. You aren't under arrest after all."

  "Alright Jenks, what's the status quo now?"

  "Well, I guess my next question is, do you wanna see her?"

 I didn't quite know how to answer Jenks. He was used to these types of situations. Helping people through tough times and all that jazz. The most difficult thing I can account for is when my dog Jem died when I was 11. And to make matters worse, I didn't really even know this woman. I had this vision of who she was in my mind, but who's to know if she would even want me in the room? From what I can recollect from Jenks, Jenny had been through so much already in life. And I'm just this guy she had a study date with. A first study date. But since my name was in her planner, this is where I found myself. Standing outside Mass Gen, wondering where I'd be if none of this would have happened.
  "Son, she's looking for something. I don't know if it's a familiar face or a friend, but the way she looked up when I spoke your name, I think it might be you."

   I thought again for a second, looked back at Jenks and then spoke.
   "Can I bum one of those cigs?"


To be continued...

-DD

This is just the beginning?

  I've always had a history of disappearing when life got too real. I made sure as soon as something started to tug at my senses I kept it distant and slowly bounded away, safe and sound within myself. That was until I met Jenny my junior year of college. I was sitting in one of my many lectures fall semester and as casually as the sun rises, she sat down next to me. I felt a rush of initial lust engulf me at first, but by the time she spoke, my heart was hers. Such effortless elegance in the way she articulated her thoughts. She had a cavalier attitude that would make you think she'd rub people the wrong way, but nevertheless she was adored by all those that crossed her path, including me. It took me till finals week to finally muster up the manhood to say anything to her. Two agonizing months of me twiddling my thumbs and acting like a sorority girl before I finally opened my mouth.
  "Hey Jenny, you think we might be able to work on this together? I am a little lost on the last chapter," I sputtered out like a prepubescent schoolboy.
  "Sure, Tom. I'll meet you in the library around 6:30. You bring the coffee."
  Tom. That was my name? I had almost forgotten what it was, but the moment she said it, well, she brought new life to it. I anxiously awaited the time to come to meet up with Jenny. I stood in front of the mirror, practicing some lines like I was studying a Shakespeare sonnet, all the while watching time tick at a snail's pace. I decided to take a quick nap. After all, I told myself, I needed all my wits about me to even have a shot at wooing this one. There was a heavy knock on my door that awoke me at 7:56. I remember the time so vividly because what came after changed who I was forever.
  "I'm looking for a Tom Wilshire," a burly police officer said as I wiped sleep from my eyes.
  "Yes, I'm Tom."
  "Son, I think it's best if you sit down."


To be continued...

-DD

 

A Recipe for Redemption

It's interesting listening to others people's beliefs. Everyone has their own tailor-made idea of how it all works, or at least they sometimes think they do. One of my beliefs is to not let your mind escape and be molded by the mongering masses. Throughout my life, I have gone from one extreme to the other. Belief, lack thereof, belief. I don't think there is anything wrong with that. We all have two people inside of us. A head and a heart. And while its great when they work together, sometimes it's not so simple.
 The life I've lived is nothing out of a storybook. I don't have any deep traumas to report or ongoing psychological issues spicing things up. Simplicity. My parents never split up. We never lived in a car filled with our belongings. There was never a lack of food on the table or broken glass on the floor, and for that, I feel incredibly fortunate. But all those aside, the one thing I am so grateful to experience growing up was that of Love. My parents showered my siblings and I in it, and they continue to show us every day what it looks like.
 You might be wondering where this whole thing is going. 'He started on belief and now is talking about love'. But you see, they are one in the same. In the book of Dylan, it says to love. To love and to be loved is one of the most indescribable feelings one can experience. It's to feel someone's pain through the hardships, and to be overcome with joy during the good. It's being kind and thoughtful with no need for reciprocation. It's thinking twice before you speak. It is being as carefree as a child on a swing set, feeling the air rush through them as they pump their legs back and forth. No matter how short of a stick life gives you, my greatest belief is that love is there, and no one should give up on it. So go on. Love with reckless abandon. Love those deemed no good. Love the young and the old. Love the past and the future.
  So don't go through your life wracking your brain to come up with all the answers, because it is an impossibility to put your finger on everything. When it all boils down, and the final turn of the clock comes, just remember the love you gave, because that is the love you will receive. In the simplest terms, that's what I believe, that God is Love, and it is the greatest of all.

-DD

Star Power Syndrome

Pondering upon life and death and all the nostalgia of growing up and gaining momentum can put a lot of things into perspective. As a child, I was so adept at living and thinking like I was the next big thing, an unshakeable force. And I think it's common knowledge that most of us as children believe that success and fame and riches will all be waiting in the wind whenever we decide to grab it. It's quite a abrupt realization when you wake up one day, and the idea of being Mr. Big Shot isn't so clear, it's not so much in the foreground as it is in the clouds. I think I'm fine with not winning anything. I'm fine with not having my name in lights or being a household name. I'm fine not being a Facebook all-star or Twitter famous or an unstoppable Instagram force. Like a lot of things in life, these are all temporary. They are all vain perceptions of a generation living in a bubble. A bubble that will one day pop leaving those inside dirty and worn-out. Not physically worn-out but exhausted from all the energy they spent from trying to become this useless virtual version of themselves.

  Maybe I'm preaching to the choir or becoming a broken record. Maybe none of you will read this for my lack of internet prowess is too low to even be acknowledged. All of that is just fine with me, because I am already successful. I am rich in love. Rich in family. Blessed every day with the ability to roll myself out of bed(easier said than done), splash water on my face, and feel alive. And for that, I want to thank all of you. Those who are apart of my life right now. Those who have been apart but have been absent for one reason or another. Those who I have yet to meet but are already pre-ordained to become a part of my life. And yes, even you, virtual rockstar, for without you we wouldn't know where the decay of good-natured human beings began or how the morality and affability in our strung-out, addiction-crazed society disappeared. I am fine with blending in with the crowd, because to some people, and you know who you are, I am the star, in real life, in the flesh. And that's all I really need.

-DD

A sunburn is just what I needed.

They say people change like the seasons. But her? Nah, she was like a never ending summer. She kept me alive with her late nights and spontaneity. She was hot, like the pavement in August. Her face shined like the sun on my drives home from work. That laugh, well, it was as infectious as the boys' across the street streaking through the stream of a simple lawn sprinkler. Everything was simpler when she was around. It was the birds chirping and the flowers blooming type of feeling. Things normally seen so commonplace, you forget they are happening, but when you really stop to look and listen, it can truly take one's breathe away. And above all, I loved her like teenage boys and girls love a summers night out. I relished every moment, knowing that if I didn't take my chances, she would be gone, too, like the heat. Too many times I've been left in winters cold, and this particular time, I vied not to get complacent. I wanted to suck in the pollen. Feel the heat. Climb her like a tree. For the first time in my life, I knew what it was like to be me.

-DD

Just what the doctor ordered.

It didn't begin the way most love stories do, and let's be honest, what does anymore? But it was planted with hope, with openness, with belief, that what they were doing was going to grow. The seedling started to slowly makes it's way out of the ground, making them start to take notice. Through the coming months, though, it was battered with fear of commitment, and the busyness of everyday life. But nonetheless, it stayed rooted to the ground, and the longer they saw it there, the more frequent they began to water it. The more often they began to prune the bad from it, making it come alive. And slowly, but surely, it grew and it grew, till it's strength could weather any storm that was thrown at it. It's flowers bloomed into beautiful flowers, and those involved gazed at it with great hope. That together, they can make beautiful things happen despite all that might be thrown at them. They called it love.

This fruit salad is lacking some ingredients...

  I tend to rack my brain every dull moment and start to get extremely introspective on what this is all for. No, I don't have a clear definition, if I did, the whole thing would be over. I have a few ideas though. Maybe we should stop standing flat footed on the track and leap into the grass, leaving our jeans stained in green. Maybe we should start living deliberately. We should give up on trying to squeeze ourselves into that mold that's overused and commonplace. We are way too big for that. Big in a sense that we have so much unabridged ability that it would be disastrous to be frozen and dropped into someones drink just to provide them with some comfortability, only to melt and be deemed no good, and thrown out. I want to be on the top shelf, the one that we reached for when we were little kids. We grow up and everything becomes so easy to grab ahold of, and yet, there are still vast amounts that haven't been acknowledged yet. Don't ever stop reaching, stretching, searching for all that there is. Light yourself up and soar into the sky until you burn out. Until it is black.



The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, but it can be made into sauce, cider, or pie. The epitome of existence. Make yourself into whatever you choose, be fearless, fruitful, and passionate in whatever you endeavor. Dream so deep that the thought of them running dry becomes absurd in your mind. Step off the ledge, fall face first into the sea of subsistence.

Awakening, Unabridged

The sun came up, just like every other ordinary day. This day seemed different though. The sun shined a little brighter, the wind blew a little brisker, and my heart beat a little harder. I breathed in deep, as if I was trying to suck in every last bit of oxygen available in the air. I ran my fingers through my hair, caressing every strand as it escaped the grasp of my hand. Then, I began to walk. I began to think. I began to see. All of this world's vast uncertainties were put here for you and me. To explore. To travel. To adventure. To never settle. To grab life by the throat and choke the life out of it. It's interesting how we are conditioned to follow this straight and narrow path of pre-conceived righteousness. So many of us need to tear the blindfold from our eyes, pull the plugs out of our ears, and examine the entity of our lives. I began to get sick to my stomach, but I trudged on, one heavy-hearted step after the other. A break in the pavement caused me to lose my balance, leaving my palms scraped and knees dirty. As I began to reposition my sunglasses onto my face, I looked up at the sun. It's brightness and warmth opened me up. Just then, I began to run. In my best Forrest Gump impression, I ran until I couldn't run anymore, taking in every facet of life around me. Indeed, I had the best behind-the-scenes look at the most original, beautiful set ever built. My life.

Today is my favorite day.

An overwhelming abundance of panic filled my chest as I walked briskly toward my most recent job interview. All the self-doubt, indecisiveness, and general lack of interest that had plagued me for so long had started to resurface itself back into my life. My mind was evaluating my goals and dreams as I pressed pavement onward. I worked so hard to justify me being where I am, I didn't want a little uneasiness to divert me from being successful. But then it hit me. I was miserable where I was at. The tie wearing, brain wracking, it was all a joke. These people around me, they were nothing. I was nothing. And if I got this job, I would continue to be nothing. We are all so caught up trying to be important and wealthy that we lose sight of our hearts. The most influential thing I was ever told was follow your heart. And damnit if I'm going to let some three hundred dollar shoe wearin' fuck tell me how to dress, when to get up, what to eat for breakfast, and how many creamers to drop into my coffee. People will tell me 'that's just the generation X coming out of you, lazy, good-for-nothing,  with your loose morals and unfulfilled dreams.'  Be it as it may, this whole life deal doesn't have to be cut and dry. Maybe I want to paint some days, finding solace in a sunrise. Maybe I want to travel, experience another world and all of the variances of life. Sometimes I might want to get dirty and work till my hands blister and my feet begin to bark. Or just delve into my soul and search my spirit for some truth. Maybe some days I just want to write. Write poems. Write prose. Write things so off the wall that even the sky can't comprehend what I'm trying to put down. Maybe I want to write about me and you, and all our nuances and idiosyncrasies  I could write about people I haven't even met yet. It's all too easy to turn into a matter of fact, a soldier in the trenches fighting his way to the top of the decaying pyramid which is his life. Instead, today, I am going to write.


And maybe the next day too.


-DD

One final go-round for this record...

  For some reason, I am filled with angst today. Maybe its the fickle weather throwing me off or something. At any rate, something about today irks me to the core. And maybe its not just today specifically. Maybe its all the days leading up to this one, finally my pail is full and overflowing.  I cannot even begin to fathom why people find it a necessity to dumb themselves down, to feel the need to document every insignificance that occurs in their lives, and to try and be someone they shouldn't ever want to be. Every single person that walks this Earth should want to be so exuberantly authentic that it seeps out of their pores and spews from their mouth every time they move their tongue. Everybody wants to be that corner puzzle piece, the ones that is immediately sought after, the first pick of the litter. I'd like to be that odd shaped little shit that you aren't so sure where the hell I go, or if I am even in this puzzle at all. We are all extraordinary and capable of extraordinary things, but until we stop wasting our time waiting for our membership to the cool club, we can never grasp our true selves. I guess I'll let my buddy Jack finish this one out.
   "The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'"
“Great things are not accomplished by those who yield to trends and fads and popular opinion.”

One final thought. Can you imagine a world where every single person lived up to their full potential? This place would be a sight to see.

-DD

He's nothing but a Jim Jones wannabe...

A bitter taste filled his mouth once he realized what had happened. Only two weeks time had passed, but in his eyes it felt like five years. What could have possessed him to make a decision so important in such a cavalier way? The fruitful friend trees he once sowed upon had quickly become barren and the mush in his mouth was nothing more than tasteless fuel to feed his need for acceptance. He was always the type of guy that turned into a chameleon as soon as an out of the ordinary individual graced his presence. Don't get me wrong, we all have interpersonal affairs that we exchange for wholeheartedness when something new and interesting presents itself, but his way of adapting another person's anatomic unobtainables was a mystery to us all. And yet, he continued his march down a path of worn-out dreams ripped at the seams. The grape kool-aid that continued to fill his cup was hastily becoming too poisonous to drink. A stench of a purge was in the air, but who would be there to intervene when his come-down hit rock bottom. His exterior was tough, and worn out, but the snakeskin he donned was finally starting to shed, leaving him fragile, fresh, and capable of being cut open at any particular moment. Who could save his soul from the kitsch calamity it was becoming?

...stay tuned

-DD

Unabridged Introspection

Whispers from the winter wind chill my skin as I make my walk towards the beginning's end. Life has just started to stir for me, and every time I wipe my sleep deprived eyes there's a new image that keeps me alive. Sunrises melt into sunsets, all the days get shorter, but me, effervescent. See, this is just the embarkment of what is to come, I can't pinpoint any plans, but rather keep my feet on the run. When the full moon rises I'll look to the sky, how will my dreams and my days ever coincide? A tumultuous treasure, these souls we keep, dying down slowly, fighting to breathe. As long as I'm here, I fear not a threat, nothing can shake me, no ostentatious regrets. I'll admit when I took off, this didn't start as a rhyme, but my mind, it kept stirring, and it brought me alive.