the way that I'm treated when I can’t seem to understand makes me feel like less of a man. with outstretched hands I'm handed nothing; without a chance I won't be something.
who takes a stand behind
“the man who has no plan”?

I still see no one . . .

why look to the sky for answers
when life is all around? why even utter a sound, when the only person that really needs to heed your words and hear your thoughts, is you?

what do you do when the only thing left for you to do is pray?

you say your prayers
by writing them down
and live your life a better way.

~
somehow, I've ended up in this basement again.

this dreary little basement. it's my comfort zone, apparently.
each time I leave, I tell myself I must escape, to get away from comfort.

to get away from darkness that I've known my whole life,
I push and push my own body up these steps,
far too steep for fondness.
push, my self out of that comfort zone
over and over again in pursuit of light
to touch my skin and bring my pigment back,
to bring a little color back into sight . . .
I push my body to some limits it has never known
to break it free from this contentment.

step by step, go one by one;
that's the only way I'm able to keep this spirit moving forward.
slumber caused some stalling way too long.
I take it very slow now;
that's all that I can do now. . .
that's really all I do . . .

drift . . .
in and out of light . . . or maybe in and out of darkness . . .
losing consciousness . . . I'm no longer under surface.

this is foreign land.

I shy away to come right back inside this house,
I left my home to see this other side, and it . . .
just scares me, to be honest.

I'm shaking bad now,
but not just in my legs from lack of energy,
my whole body is quaking,
I'm withdrawing, falling back into this basement,
falling back into this comfort, falling back into this slumber,
going under . . .

and I don't even care
that I am no longer aware of my surroundings . . .
that other side was just too strange,
too far outside my boundaries.

perhaps, I'll try again, tomorrow,
if I get up
~

throughout his soul there is a blend
of monochromatic, a sort of automatic
and indefinite . . .

. . . black . . .

'tis acknowledgement, more than thankfulness, that allows a being to reap all of the glorious benefits that this life has to offer.
it is seeing. it is believing. it is acknowledging
. . .
all that exists . . . acknowledge it. so that its existence does not go unnoticed.
and, notice, i am not asking you to focus on it, i am not asking you to give everything in life more attention than it deserves but be aware.
when something pops into your realm of awareness, acknowledge it;
that's how you stay aware. don't ignore it, don't overdo it.
universal acknowledgement will do
. . .
and once you've acknowledged the presence of the object, only then will you be able to decide how to feel about it.
only then, will you be able to truly understand what is going on around you.
'tis acknowledgement that is the key to our emotions.
before we know how to hate or to love, before we know how to be happy about, before we know how to be sad about, before we know how to feel indifference towards
. . .
we must have acknowledged the object of our feelings . . .
before we are able to be thankful for . . .
before we are even able to thank . . .
we have to acknowledge
. . .
i've fiddled with this idea for a while and i believe i've finally come to a temporary conclusion, just bear with me.
. . .
we pray and we pray and we thank all day long.
we speak to God, or any other entity that will listen, to send us some help or to appreciate.
yet, how do we even know what to appreciate . . . if we are not aware, if we have not acknowledged all that is present in our lives
. . .
how can I say "thank you" for a blessing I know nothing about . . .
how can I know what needs to leave my life if I have not acknowledged it as such - simply a thing that is no good for me - how do I feel no good about something I have not felt
. . .
if I keep my eyes shut long enough, will all of life disappear without ever giving me a chance to be thankful, or without ever giving me a chance to see what is necessary and unnecessary.
will things ever change if we do not open our minds, our eyes, our hearts, open up our ears, if we are not open to all ideas, will we ever be able to see what is truly right and what is truly wrong
. . .
acknowledgement. an automatic ability of a being but there is something that keeps us from acknowledging the presence of the ability to acknowledge, within ourselves . . .