Transition in 3 Breaths


I am a body with no buoyancy
sinking in an ocean
the darkest saline solution

splinters of light
chance zigzags
hope in fading gradient

I am waiting to feel the bottom
to rest in the silt
the deepest sandy sediment



I am a fool in my reverie
thinking the ocean empty
the oldest seat of evolution

splatters of life
causal zigzags
time in spiraling ratio

I had forgotten to feel the current
to rest in the flow
the purest tidal movement



I am a being with no certainty
drinking in an emotion
the sweetest form of resolution

fragments of ice
clear zigzags
focus in rising tempo

I am starting to feel the difference
to rest in the now
the freest mind environment


Bad Thoughts Diatribe

As far as my current state, I am not sure what I want to explain, so instead I am going to try a brief exercise. I am going to put down some of the incriminations that have been running through my mind lately. I don’t know if this is a good idea, but I am inclined to think that exposing the negativity in my mind can help to weaken it. If I put it down somewhere maybe I can steal some of its power?

You are weak.

You are disgusting.

You are lazy.

You are pathetic.

You are selfish.

You are alone.

You are trapped.

Even just looking at these words… after a while, it feels strange. I suppose initially they sting because I often feel them. I can recall piling the evidence on myself to support these words. They are volatile, and I am certain I risk triggering myself or others by putting them on the page.

But there is something else. Ultimately, those bad, cruel thoughts are so…. mundane. They are boring! As a person who values creative expression above nearly everything, I am actually turned off by how uninspired the negative voices are. It’s almost laughable. There is a defense mechanism in my mind that sneers at how typical those insults are.

Come on! Is that all you can manage? Talk about lowest common denominator!

I realize this creates a dialogue between me and myself… which might seem a little crazy. But no, I don’t think that is accurate. It is not me in the sense of true identity. What I am talking back to is the poison. I am refuting the corrosive thoughts that are spawned by depression.

Whether you accept that or simply think I have begun talking to myself, I have to advocate for this activity. It seems to be helping. Last night I was flooded with the bad thoughts and they held sway. This morning, by compartmentalizing, I find I can fend them off.

The negativity is petty. I can see that when I look at all those words. It isn’t going for truth or accuracy. Just the rawest of attacks. Anything and everything that might generate more bad thoughts.

And then I quietly fell apart

I am writing this instead of lying in bed and crying. That was not working for me. Somehow I made the choice to come back to the living room and get back on the computer.

Back on the computer and back on the blog.

It’s been at least six months.

I kept seeing notifications from the site popping up in my inbox. And I would feel conflicted and uncomfortable. Now I think it’s a good thing, because I didn’t completely forget.

I have slid down from wherever I was six months ago. It’s not good.

I am fighting wars with myself. Battles between shame and avoidance. Introspective campaigns of guilt and fear. There is so much of it and it has dragged me down to dark places. I have woken up tired too many days. I have resented living my life because it demands that I cope with myself… something I can’t seem to manage.

And yet, while sinking, one hand has found a grip on a lifeline. This blog. Even these words. A voice. My voice.

I am rusty, I barely remember how to use the site. Still I want to. There are other outlets I could reach for but this is the one that I think is the most constructive. I am going to review my old posts and see if I can teach myself anything.

I am hoping this is the first of a resurgence in posts. If I can brave it, I may expand on what exactly is going on.

Research for Nanowrimo

It’s a grey, overcast day out there. I like it. I’m not quite in focus as to what I want to be doing today, but it is early. Hopefully today I will start to dig into the new book I’m reading. It’s a book about Zen Buddhism. I bought two yesterday. One of them is introductory and written by an American, the other is a collection of two classic Zen texts translated by a Japanese man. I figured I would try this approach because a “Western” author might help make the concepts more initially relatable while an Asian author will be able to translate according to a more in-tuned perspective. That’s the hope, anyway.

I don’t plan on becoming a Buddhist, for the record. I am interested in Zen as a philosophy, as an outlook and primarily as an element in the story that I am planning for Nanowrimo. I am setting those gears in motion, with the hope that they don’t come to screeching halt before November even gets here. It may seem early to start, but I want room to maneuver. I want the chance to explore a couple of topics that will flesh out the theme of the story.

Incidentally, if anyone reading has a recommendation for good texts related to metaphysics, I’d love to hear it. I figure Kant is one person to investigate, but I don’t know if I’m smart enough to digest his material. I’ve only ever taken two courses on philosophy: Philosophy of Religion (I did quite well) and Philosophy of Mind (I struggled with this one).

I like to look at things from many different angles, so all the thoughts in my head take their time becoming something I can put to paper with any satisfaction. I think that’s a concentration/attention issue as well. I also like to start simple with a story and then add complexities bit by bit. Last year when I did Nanowrimo I used a similar approach, but found that I hadn’t planned enough of the intricacies ahead of time. When my word flow started to freeze up from the pressure I didn’t have enough material to work with. I fizzled out very quickly after that.

I am quite obviously a planner and not pantser, but I don’t think there is anything wrong with being a pantser. The more power to you! I’ve heard that some pantsers are “discovery writing” when they do Nano, which is a way of figuring out the plot as you go. With that style of writing, one might write whole passages that don’t make sense down the line, because of a change in direction. The results can be a really long, intricate plan for a story more than a first draft… sort of a pre-draft draft. Still, that means they have material to continue molding, and they’ve gotten over the first hurdle towards a finished product. Whatever the style, planning, pantsing, discovery writing… the editing process is going to be important.

This is especially true of works done during Nano, as they emphasize quantity over quality. It’s not a bad concept, though I find it hard to adhere to. I suppose it’s like sculpting, in a sense. The first draft is the raw materials, roughly made into a shape. Editing is where the chisel really comes into play.

What time is it?

I wonder if it ever makes a difference

Those twenty-four arbitrary wedges

Worldwide we are simultaneous

One stone skipping the waves

But someone added borders

Because they say time is light

Time is the sun


But the dark is not timeless

In more ways than one

So I start to wonder

If nothing were perceived

If nothing ever changed

Would there still be time?

I can’t help but think so


Time is a constant

It is invisible weather

Just as rain can fall unseen

It subsists without observers

It is the ultimate movement

But we try to pin it down

Does time care what it is?

A Plan for Fall

I’m feeling conflicted but at the same time it seems my feelings are slipping away from me. Right now I am in a weird limbo. I have some sort of energy but I can’t seem to do much with it. There’s a barrier. I think this has to do with the dose of medication I took today? The higher dose of the newer prescription? It gave me a boost but something is still holding me back. It might be stress. That wouldn’t surprise me at all.

I don’t want to lapse too many days but I also haven’t got a solid idea what I want to talk about. I suppose one thing I could mention is that I am leaning towards the idea of participating in Nanowrimo this November. (That’s National Novel Writing Month.) I have tried it seriously two or three times in the past and I have yet to succeed. The goal is to write 50,000 words over the course of the month. I have a hard time getting more than halfway into the month before I run out of steam. Even thinking about it right now I am filled with doubt. It might be that it is the wrong time of day to be thinking about it though, as I am getting weary in general.

Still I find that I want to try. I want to see if I can improve. I feel like trying to challenge myself this way is important, especially since I have not succeeded in the past. If I can muster the will to try again where I have failed, then I am helping to reinforce that idea in other areas of my life. I need to hone my determination and my perseverance in many ways, so I feel like starting with this way is good practice. After all, this is about storytelling. This is the thing nearest and dearest to my heart.

It won’t be easy. I have a story I would like to work on…. But it is only a very vague concept in my head thus far. Barely more than a theme, a premise and a couple of flimsy characters. Nevertheless, it is the one I have wanted to flesh out for quite some time. I want to give it attention because I think it has potential. So for the next two months I am hoping to do some research and some brainstorming and get a better idea of what I will be writing come November.

Some people have a much easier time getting words down than I do. I have to try my best not to let that bother me. I think it isn’t even so much other people’s ease that frustrates me, but rather the fact that I used to have a much easier time of it myself. When I was younger I wrote out a story using every spare bit of time I had. I would write my school notes out, and then switch to my story while I waited for the next projector slide. That I used to be able to let the words fill page after page is a point that irks me.

The conundrum is that I know overthinking things in my writing is slowing me down, but at the same time I don’t want to put thoughtless words to paper either. I am also aware that my confidence sinks far too easily when I am devoted to a project. I know I tear myself down in my head but it so damn hard to keep those thoughts out.


I am not broken

We are not broken

Not a one

There is no perfect

No one so whole

But we have all felt broken

Or if not all

So many


Are we not the norm?

Do we not set the trend?

Do we not shape the world?

And so

We are not broken


Something is broken

What is it?

It is the lens

It is the mirror

It is how we see each other

It is how we see ourselves

It is how I see myself

It is point of view

And we broke it

We held it

And listened when we were told to break it

Because generations before had done it

Because our parents had done it

Because everyone else had done it

So we did

And I did too

But something happened

The view tilted

To an awkward angle

For a moment I could see differently

I saw between the cracks

I could see us

I could see everyone

I could see myself



Now I try


This moment

To hold it in my mind

To always remember

The truth I learned

I am not broken

We are not broken

Not a one

Despite Myself

I had a feeling I might get up way too early, but that’s what happens when you go to bed early and you’re feeling antsy. I spent a busy weekend working on my apartment. Purge, purge, purge. So many things have been thrown out. I wanted to do this before I found out and then after I found out it became a necessity. Found out what? This is hard to admit, but there are bugs in my apartment. I feel just about as awful and ashamed of this fact as I have ever been about anything, no exaggeration. I can tell myself that I’ve been sick and that this is a result of that but it doesn’t do a lot to make me feel better. I feel like a disgusting failure.

Dealing with this, and having to suddenly find the motivation to work through everything that has to be done has been very stressful. I wasn’t doing a lot, barely anything. I believe I mentioned I have next to no stamina? So that’s pitiful reserves of energy, almost zero functioning work ethic and bouts of apathy that suck all my drive to do things, no matter how important they may be.

And it doesn’t matter. Things still have to get done, despite myself. They have, I’ve come a long way in this cleaning process, but I’ve had a lot of help. If I hadn’t had my mom and my boyfriend (Jeremy) to help me with this purge I would have been screwed.

The frustrating part currently is that they were due to come in and treat for the bugs on Monday, so I plowed through the preparation with Jeremy here over the weekend to help, Mom coming in on Sunday, and a final push by myself to be ready Monday morning. Monday I left before they were due to arrive and didn’t show up again until well after the treatment was supposed to be done. I thought I was going to get home Monday night and find that things were well on their way to being normal again. No such luck. They didn’t come. They left me a note stating that they won’t be here until the 5th.

This might sound like I get more time to prepare, but really I was ready. Everything was thrown out that needed to be, everything else was bagged and the furniture was moved. Somehow, even with help, I had managed to do a lot of work myself. And now? Now I have to undo some of the prep in order to live here, without undoing all the prep that was so hard to achieve. And I have to be here, with a problem I barely see but I know is still there. I have to stew with this stress-triggering problem for a week.

So it spills over onto other areas, as things tend to do with depression and anxiety. I am cranky, sleeping a bit oddly (obviously, it’s almost 4:30 am as I write this) and feeling my creative energies are floundering. I am trying not to be completely pessimistic but it is certainly weighing me down.

I guess it’s a good thing that I am seeking out counseling. I’m looking to bridge the gap between me and what Dr. R can offer me as my psychiatrist. He is there to listen, in a sense, but on the whole he is there to establish my current condition, prescribe medication accordingly and guide me towards any other necessary steps. Counseling is not really his domain. I started to look for help for myself but if I can’t find what I need he is prepared to refer me to someone I can talk to.

This all has to do with that problem I mentioned before, the one I cried over for a while and then sort of calmed down about. It’s still relevant, and I’d like a counselor’s help in having to deal with it. I don’t mean to tease with this mention of an ambiguous “problem” but it’s still sensitive. I want to share it when I am ready but at this point I am still not ready. I think I would be more comfortable with it if the larger portion of it were resolved.

In any case, I am hoping to get in touch with a counselor in the next few weeks. There’s always the option to go to a walk-in if I can’t stand the wait, but I feel like I can hold out for now. Part of this may be that I don’t want to juggle the bug problem and the other problem at the same time. I feel like I need to compartmentalize in order to preserve myself.

Haiku Bundle

Sky Haiku

the blue in the sky
is really cold black space
lit up by the sun


Mind Haiku

stand with eyes open
open to the world today
look with mind open


Haiku haiku

Too many haikus
The world is thick with people
Trying too damn hard