Procrastination

If I could wrote a funny remark, an interesting insight

hidden from plain sight of the mighty eyes of people,

I would scribble

till my blood would dribble

all around the paper.

But I was lazy and awestruck deep in sweet passive stance.

Only a glance at the job made me sob.

Desperation hidden behind the

Ironclad palisades of procrastination

...

nothingness

“Nothing can be born of nothing, nothing can be resolved into nothing."

--Persius, Satires

Anxiety

It will poison your mind. Don't take this drug, believe me. Well, are you asking me how to avoid this? I can tell you about the antidote... wait, shut up. I know many others have recommended you a lot of questionable remedies for that feeling around the gut... or heart, if you're the poetic kind of guy.
So let's make a deal, you will hear what I have to say and then I wanna hear what you think about it? Okey? Fine. It's not like you have anything else to do.
You see, there are two dramatic ways how to deal with almost any negative emotion. Not just the good old stress and anxiety. The first one is to deny it. My friend, it is one of the worst way how to deal with it. Denial is a long road to the overload. Trust me, I've been there. There are also smug advocates, Buddhist hipsters who will tell you that acceptance is the best way to the anxiety management. Let me tell you this, they are a lot of closer. Accepting however is but a part of the method. By realizing that you have a problem you can continue in this pursuit. The basic thing to do, older than any of the stuff I am telling you, is not to identify with the pain. It all depends on how much will you build your life around your intense feelings. There are cool dudes, always with the flow and then there are angry Napoleons. The way I see it, both of these guys can manage their feelings. Stoic people tend to be sarcastic and aggressive ones are quick to react. But they are actually transforming their emotions into something another... I call this emotional alchemy. In the process they can hurt the innocent. So enough of this long talk, what to do? You know what I do when I am naked before the public and see that anxiety is bubbling inside me? I say to my fears simple hi. Hello, my old friend, I haven't seen you for quite a while. Come, sit down, have a tea with me. This lord of the stressful state is actually really shy. When you show him appreciation, he will flee in terror. Don't believe me? That's okay. Everyone is different. Just give it a shot. And say hi to your anxiety for me.

Gratitude

“What are you doing here in the fields, boy?” I asked.
There was a youngling kneeling in the grass and watching the sun setting over the horizon. He looked so absorbed in the thought that I had to repeat my question twice until he finally reacted:
“I am grateful. And to show appreciation I shared a silent thought with the nature.”
I was surprised... after all it is not common to hear such a words from a kid. But knowing that inside the mind of the young, refreshed from harsh reality, is sometime a hidden gem of knowledge, I continued the debate.
“Oh really? And what are you grateful for?”
“The life."
Well now I was curious. Something so common (and yet precious).
“And why?"
The kid looked me as I were from outer space.
“Well obviously, if I didn't have it, I couldn't feel anything at all. So I couldn't be grateful. But if I can have a feeling of gratitude, why not use it?”
But then I said to him: “Well, because you can feel anything, why gratitude? You could feel a hatred as well. There is a strife in the life.”
“I know that. But if there is something what or who created a life, I doubt it would enjoy the sight of eternal complaining from his subjects. Besides, I have some time before I become a grumpy old person like you mister.”
And he ran away from my sight.

Rejuvenation

Before the cavern you see a washed out ancient man, damaged almost beyond the repair. He has been mortally wounded by the beast that dwells within. No matter how hard he tries to stand up, his muscles are not cooperating with his brain anymore. There is no hope for him.
The wise men talk about prevention of any danger so there is no need for such a grim scenario. However, does that mean that every mistake we made is a painful bullet to the heart? I disagree. Every problem I've encountered on my long road ahead, every little one was a glowing experience. The color of the glow was maybe sometimes darker than I would wanted, but still it provided me with light and heat, that helped me.
As the will-o-wisp fades in the darkness, so does the eyes stopped working for our hero before the cave. But there is still a spark of life in him. Strong enough to roll clumsily on the grass and eating the dirt along the way. It is no noble sight. But he evaded the strike of the beast. If it is survival what you seek, when you see the back of the enemy, there is no doubt what would you do next.
The beast symbolizes our wordly pain and obstacles we meet and hunter is our mind, tending to surrender too soon.

But if I may, let me say few words of wisdom:

"I don't believe that restoration is ever out of question."

Intoxication

The tip of the tongue is dancing and trying to convince me about the things I find very unethical...

The problem of mankind's fascination with anything else than naked whole truth has lead into the opium dens, where through the mist you can only faintly see the light you would like to spot. And yet great movements of the mind were produced exactly here, in the borderland world where ideas from all parts of the brain meet together and form a powerful coalition. Is it ok to forbid alliance of those worlds? Hard to say. Drug wars, abuse and cartels will tell you otherwise. There is a very thin line among living in a world, unafraid of any challenge and living a life of escapism, doubt and paranoia. The flowers of schizophrenia will bloom in this garden and then it is hard to say what will become of a human mind.

The tip of the tongue dances on...

Triumph

There was once a man who lived deep inside the swamp. A hermit if you will. That damp and moist air made every man angry and every mosquito lively; nothing I would honestly undergo, even if there was a golden reward filled with honey. Of course he was no enlightened one or untouchable spiritual being. He was human like anybody else, so he complained a lot in the beginning.
Then I couldn't help but wonder: "Why are you here? No religion, government or person forced you into this. You just choose this way of life. Your salary was sound, you had a nice house with a family that really loved you. You left it all behind just to be alone. How is this possible?"
Each time I asked that way the old man gave me only a long persistent silence. I've seen him ever once in a while, when I carried some packages from other village and ventured through the forest and damp bog. I always thought, what an irresponsible and headstrong crazy person.

Year have passed and I once again carried some packages on my cart, listening to the percussion of my horses as I traveled around the primitive road through swamp. It was raining all day and the ground was especially moist and sticky, mosquitos were dancing with joy. I was bored and relaxed. But then I heard such a strange laughter. It scared me, however it was not a rambling yell of a lunatic, it was honest laughing almost like the one which can be produced only by innocent child. I went into the darkness to investigate. There was no one near the hut so I entered inside.

There I found the old hermit, laying on the hay, without a spark of life. He was white as bone and spotted with insect bites. But on his head was such a pleasant smile.

Then I noticed that he was holding a paper with a smudgy plant ink. I read it aloud and it still bothers me to this day.

"I understand it all now. Everything I did was a mistake and wrong. But I would never take it back, because the revelation was so strong that I do not pity a single moment of my wet jail. Whoever finds it, I will share with you an answer for all troubles you may find on your long road ahead. Live your life. That is all. Whatever will happen is good."

Still to this day I am curious if anybody will make a fire from the flame of that man's satori.

Disappointment

I've searched the winter wilderness for any kind of warmth.
But the only heat source was bitter disapointment.

Without expectations, disappointment is only a lone voice in the distance acting like a salesman without a charisma. So there is nothing to be feared of if you live in the present and not in the future, feeling and enjoying the moment. The need for sustaining your life, so you can enjoy another time without a worry is reasonable, but you have to ration this concern in moderation. Because the painful heat of the disapointment could become greater damage than good - escalating into the fire in your own veins.

Fatigue

We all know that vampire, which will drain us of all essence and we are forced to fall into oblivion. Is this feeling of tiredness our friend or foe? Through sleep-boat we regenerate both our mental and physical health. When we dream, we gain insights deep from our unconscious and also sort the garbage and baggage of the day. Then we die, ever so little each night. And we do not know what is happening, but we rise from the dead with the rise of the sun and shrieking of the birds. Each night we courageously face this challenge, yet we are discomforted from a little weariness? If I allow my mind of the poet to speak for a while, it is because the fatigue reminds us of closing nightly deaths. But in reality, our body just yearns for a respite and rightfully so. This is the call to the sleep, leave your insomnia and trample your fears. In a dreamworld there is no reason to be afraid.

Hope

There was this little snowdrop, hidden in the snow, awaiting the spring's bell.

Every morning, when the darkness fell, the little snowdrop awaited sun's yell.

The wind was shaking ever so much, so strong that would shivered your spine

Under the pine, there was this little snowdrop, the small flower Alpine.

How did it end I will not tell, because if you have still hope locked in you heart,

you know this part.

Strength

"You are a painful lady, you know that"? I asked her one last time before she pointed a loaded gun between my eyes. "Of course I know that," she replied, "and you, being a clever guy, should notice that from the beginning. The predators prey on the weak, it is hidden deep inside theirs horrifying names. You had several chances to show that you are hunter, however, each of those occasions have been marred by your sentiment and need for emotions. At the end of the day - was it really worth it?" Her face was more serious now, the gun still firmly gripped and pointing inside my third eye. I was trying to gain some time. My hands were firmly bonded with hemp ropes. In a cliché movie fashion, there was a sharp rock growing from the wall, which could allow me to escape from this sticky situation. "Well there are many types of strength, you know that, my dear?" My voice was shaking like a boat inside the storm. "Stop calling me 'dear'. Of course there are many types of the strength. You could say, that even ability to withstand a great emotion is a strength. Or ability to sacrifice one's life. However, how good is a strength if you are dead?" She licked her lips and I noticed that she is about to end this. It was a time for a triumph card, or else I am done for. "Even the strongest hunters eventually die. Physical strength is important, however, it will not grant you immortality. Only those who are balanced in mental, physical and spiritual strength are champions of this play of life." She became irritated and she shot. I became the embodiment of the fear and pulled the ropes with all my strength, forcing my body down on the ground. I could not tell you how I managed to free myself from those ropes, but the imminent danger forced my muscles to kill my mind. And then I took her by surprise.

Loneliness

As the lonely wolf sees the valley bellow him, he must ponder, why are those people still gathering in the packs and even bother to construct magnificent urban structures to live together. His mind is chasing those thoughts until he falls asleep. Next morning he is immediately woken up, hearing the song of hunters. Running for his life through the woods his heart races like struck with a lightning. Realizing he is outnumbered, he is forced to submission to the hunters. However, one kid compassionately stops the animal-killer hand and begs for wolf's life. They take him into the village, allowing the birth of companion dog.

Control

Deep inside every sentient being is this uncontrollable lust for power to control everything around it. Envisioning the world as a dynamic chaos, you're forced to build idols for the ability to stir action the way you wanted it. The pain of hopelessness is something we all know. What if I tell you that the very need of eternal control of everything is the biggest security flaw in humans? That doesn't necessarily mean, that we should be humble and enclosed in our shells, never dare to challenge the challenger. But the idea of a power-freak, a control junkie who doesn't know the very idea of happiness, that is what we should reflect upon.

Conquest

That strangely sweet feeling of conquering your enemy and seeing through his guise... if you can achieve it in an elegant fashion - when you are in disadvantage and yet able to swim in this sea of troubles... that alone can bring naughty smile to your brain. This Promethean revolution is what myths and legends are made of.

Anger

Anger, oh how I love you. You give me strenght and irrational excuses to destroy anything in my path. How could I ever live without you? Wait, there are no obstacles in my path anymore. Where is everybody? I feel lonely. It seems that destruction desperately cries for an equal creation. I don't know how long will you enjoy stay in the void with me, my anger.