The Dancing Programs

Sometimes our life is traveling in one direction where we finally feel like we could find happiness. We have finally started to emerge out of the desolate night that restrained our every pore for far too long. We can finally see again.  Then, you look around and realize you have simply started over the same cyclical dementia you always have. Feeling like this new journey is going to be different, that people are different, that it isn't the same as what you escaped, or what you escaped before.

The funny thing is our past is like a child to fire. We know we should not go toward it, that when we get to close the fire singes away all physical boundaries our body provides till we are barren ashes. That we need to move away, but like the child to that fire, the light that attracted us before, the blaze, the heat, peaks curiosity till one does not even remember the burning fury that that same fire brought to us before and before. And we fall into that curiosity, and tell ourselves we are ok, we are strong that we are more powerful this time then the fire that once destroyed us. Yet, there comes a time when one faces the pathetic realization that a fire will always be a fire, it does not have the control or will to be anything but what it is and always has been. That it truelly is a trick of the eye of the beholder who convinces themselves this simply logical fact is not true.

See one day though, even as we still gaze into that same fire with severe furosity, a small ant will cross our path, we notice it yet it is not enough to take away the beauty we dementedly allow ourselves to see in the great blaze. But then, the ant lingers, and with simple and quite interest we slowly allow ourselves to notice the ant, to notice anything other than the fire. An ant, so unexpectedly present that we never allowed ourselves even to acknowledge it's worth and existence. And slowly you realize that an ant does not destroy by nature, it builds. Slowly but surely is creates a foundation and with others help founds a shelter for itself. A stable functioning environment. So while that fire burns on, you begin to see beauty in the ant, the simple and true, a creature that would never aim to destroy you. And maybe it is as you first fully gaze upon the ant that you start to be able to conceptualize the constructs of this happiness thing others may mention. A foreign concept, that for once has come to light.

And it is beautiful. And you look up to the sky and you pray. You pray that you will allow the ant and fire still to exist, yet let it be the ant that you now are drawn. And you look up once more, and say. Thank you.

12:31 am January 31st, 2014

There comes a crossing over point where you start to realize that you've reached that age where people you have admired and grown to love are now on the list of you having to mentally prepare for the day they die. And sometimes moments are filled with close calls. Sometimes too close of calls that should have never existed of people far too young. Or close calls that fate bestowed on an unfortunate soul and shake all those who surround them with fear and abandon. And the close calls that can't yet be called close calls because the result of a surgery thAt hasn't even taken place yet just haven't come back. How dare those damned results that hold fate on a line of numbers on a page claim whether you are to live or die, whether you will be here for all those you've been here for another day. That numbers on hospital letter head can tell you whether the cancer has spread, whether you will live to see grandchildren grow and be support for those who loose loved ones  that it was there rightful time to fade. The order in the worlds heaven, this god we call upon, his priorities are seriously fucked up. But let's pray that that unknown variable will become a close call and not results that cancer have coursed through your whole being. Close calls....unless the call is from above, beckoning you to leave for celestial living. And forcing those still alive grieving. Let's toast to the close calls of tomorrow for not being anything more then that. Good night.

December 29th, 2013

There are some people you accept that you will be alive when they pass on. Grandparents, elderly,...but I always knew he was not hat list... And I know he will always be my guardian angel when he's gone. But I refuse to accept that until I can't fight for him any longer. He made me promises that I refuse to let him break. He protects me in the shadows and when he's gone their is nothing to separate me from the darkness he knew well. He walks every day in pain of his past. Part of me admits the selfishness of making him stay  on this earth longer. I tell myself I want hi to find light, and I do. But part of me knows he is right...his light will be found when he is in resting peace. We've once shared a dream in days past of his funeral.he saw me standing their and he left a red rose with me and walked into the light with a white suit. A song red rose pinned to his chest. And when he sees me smile back through the tears  he looks down and smiles, turns and walks into the light. Knowing somehow, we can both be at peace. That we will both be ok. 

But for now, I will continue to be selfish. Because I refuse loosing him. Not yet. 

AH  

Day 1: July 10 12:55am.

Ever been on the first step of an adventure? That step right past the spawning of the idea, but before you are fully immersed. That is me, right in this moment. Right on the brink of being embarked on a journey to define a year. All my life, I've been so scared that what happens today, will be lost like a single speck of dust in an abandoned home. I was so focused on making each individual dead cell of a life form stay alive as a small flame in a fire that I want to ignite my mind in years when it is in a phase of deterioration. Giving a solid track for generations past me to look back and at times admire and at times learn from the mistakes of the ones they've loved days past. It's time, for in this phase of the worlds social media craze, to track a year in a new way. To publish, for not only to share, but also to remember, inspire, and reflect on this endless strand of interconnected events I dare name a life. So here I stand, prepared, enthralled and inspired. Ready to stand against the world and forge my way through this place. Ready, set, go....