Life drags over the weight of a spine
Breaths quicken as the legs numb
You see how ordinary your life has become
Ordinary shelves on ordinary tables
Ordinary roof on an ordinary house
Ordinary person in an ordinary mirror
Ordinary soul in an ordinary body
You look at yourself
You think I am ordinary
But what is this bridge to the extraordinary?
Find a voice behind that sings its song:
Find the ordinary behind and the extraordinary beyond
Find what stands between you and extraordinary
Find the obstacle that keeps you ordinary
You follow the light
Beyond the thin walls
You follow the voice as your senses fall
See the blue sky above
See speckled green grass
See towers touch clouds
See the air between lives
You trail on with the voice
Hear as it sings
Guides you through the world in spring
Taste the chemical air
Taste pinewood and sea
Taste maple and evergreen
Taste desert and sun
Surely, you think
This is past the ordinary
But was is it that makes it extraordinary?
Hear the blast of each horn
Hear cars on paved roads
Hear countries and cultures
Hear wind carry the earth
This, you think
Is beyond the ordinary
But how shall I cross my path to extraordinary?
Smell the roses in bloom
Smell the sting of each hive
Smell the oil and clouds
Smell the canvas of meadow
There’s a key, speaks the voice
A key to the best
Beyond reach of the beating heart in each chest
Feel the grass at your feet
Feel the hand in each hand
Feel the sun stain your face
Feel yourself follow
Show me, you think
Let me open the door
The lock to unravel, let me be more
Follow me, says the voice
Follow past pavement and dirt
Follow past gravel and seas
Follow past faces below, above, and beyond
You obey without thought
But the light pauses, replies
You are almost there, but you must close your eyes
Close your eyes, it repeats
Close your senses and sight
Close your eyes as an ordinary
Close to open and be extraordinary
Your lids shut tight
It grabs your fingers like a hand
Doubt creeps for you cannot understand
Nothing will you find?
Nothing in this life
Nothing to your control
Nothing you can chamber
You hear a door creak
Your limbs come to a stop
You hear your breaths drop
Open your eyes
Open, says the light
Open them ordinary
Open and see the extraordinary
Your lips quake at the sight
Seeing your lamp, your house, your shelf
For you find you are looking at yourself
A good writer
Talent's relationship with writing is a limited endeavor. Talent's doses are few and far between, with some of the best talents locked away in the cages of their own mind, unable to see past their own perspective.
Social media has drained perspective with opinions swayed into objectivity. Noise overtakes quiet moments of serenity, voices swallow individuality like a poison permeating creativity's airways.
Ideas are limitless, but powerless without pursuit. When written down, they are humbled to their origins, a pen scribbled over a pad of paper, where they will crumble and rot without the writer's mind and heart furthering its journey.
What does it mean then, to be a good writer in a society such as this? Above all, determination. A "good writer" is an oxymoron, for a natural way with words is nothing without passion, bravery, and the wit of a soldier outnumbered a thousand to one. A good writer embraces our anti-writing environment, finds serenity in the noise, inspiration in a single thought, and significance without pronounced talent.
A good writer writes.
"The further a society drifts away from the truth. The more it will hate those who speak it."
My Favorite Quote
"Life is ten-percent what happens to you and ninety-percent how you react to it." ~Charles R. Swindoll
Let Me Share Something ...
Hello Me in 1950,
There is so much in store for you, you have no idea of.
A president is assasinated, another resigns, we go into a long war, telephones
become ten-digit numbers, and zip codes expand. There is this thing
called the Internet now that can send messages in the blink of an eye.
And it can take you places only dreamed of, or ... it can help with
practically anything. Your current phone will become a history lesson
and trust me ... obsolete. You will be able to carry your phone in your pocket
and even take pictures with it.
That TV you have, the one with three channels and rabbit ears?
Today you can get hundreds, half of which no one watches.
And movies, where they cost fifty-cents to watch at the theater?
They have streaming channels now. You never have to leave home.
We go into Space, land on the moon, and a Wall comes tumbling down letting the world know freedom can ring true. We suffer the magic of Mother Nature with countless floods, tornados and hurricanes, but we bounce back, survive and rebuild.
Clothing fashion changes like you wouldn't believe, car prices
skyrocket from a $2000 car then, to $18,000 plus now. Fast food almost
becomes the new normal. Penny candy is about $1.99 for a small bag.
Yes, a lot of changes coming your way. Far too many to put in this letter.
Will there be heartache? Of course. The world cannot survive without it,
the same as it cannot survive without love and compassion.
You will go to war but come home and with many mixed
emotions why you went in the first place.
You will lose that treasured gift, virginity.
But not to worry, it isn't painful.
You will fall in love at least twice in your life,
both leaving you with beautiful memories.
You will struggle somewhat, but you aren't alone,
for we all struggle, just some more than others.
You will have two careers: teacher, and cook.
Those you have loved will pass away.
After all, we all do eventually. You will mourn, but you will move on.
You have to or you are only a walking dead person inside your skin.
One day, you will retire.
Each day is yours alone to do with as you please.
Make sure you make the most out of them.
You will live through one of the direst of times around the world ... Covid-19,
a deadly disease ravaging hundreds of thousands of lives. It will be a time
of both fear and resolve. It will seem all you have done before, can no longer
be done the same way. You just have to be smart in how you cope.
And I cannot say for certain, but me being you,
you might fall in love again.
If I do, as an older you, I will write you again.
There is more, much more, but this gives you an idea.
Many new friends will walk through your life. Treasure them.
I would ask you to write me back,
but right now, you are only three.
P.S. Save your forty-five's and 331/3 albums, trading cards and comic books.
One day they will be valuable.
See you when you get here.
(Artistic rendition depicting Chester, PA where I was born and raised.
Times have dramatically changed since then.)
Why do I write?
I write what would never be.
I'd say I'm too logical for my own good.
So sometimes I find comfort in lying to myself and dillusionalizing myself.
Anything illogical. Including love and friends.
This is reality and logic I guess, Everything is too good too be true.
dont mean to sound like an emo teenager.
Zombies? No, we’re just attached to our phones.
I was watching the news earlier-well, actually checking people’s snapchat stories, but close enough. Everyone was freaking out that they had lost power, and that it wouldn’t come back on. In 24 hours, none of those people will ever get to post anything else. Ever. My iphone is down to 8% battery, so I figured I should write in this old notebook I found since I won’t be able to make Instagram posts about today, and someone should document it. What happened this morning was beyond odd. It started out with people saying they’d started to see things, like dead people walking around. Then at about 11 all the electricity shut off. All the people on my street were wondering what happened, since there’s no storm happening right now. As it turns out, a few towns over near the hydro building, the towers had been knocked down, causing a major blackout. People are talking, saying crazy things like zombies attacked it, taking away our main source of energy. That’s nonsense if you ask me, but things have been rather strange lately… Around last week I started noticing some of the people at school looking paler than usual, some of them even walking around like they were sick. But that doesn’t mean zombies… does it? If there is something outlandish going on I’ll be sure to make more entries, but for now I’m just going to try to find a way to charge my phone.
taking over data
No need to read diaries;
If you want to really know someone;
Get their Google data.