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531 · Jun 2013
Journey
Nihl Jun 2013
We are the few, stuck upon the shoreline of life.
Begging for our ship to sail.
I don’t seek “friends” in this life,
I seek the brotherhood of wolves.
And It feels so good to be king.
Proud.
Someone once said
-
“You die twice.
One time when you stop breathing
and a second time,
a bit later on,
when somebody says your name
for the last time.”

-
And all I could find for a thousand miles
in every direction
was the sound of my very own breath
singing it’s final ode to life.
“Tout est bien.”,
“North is that way.”


N.H.
528 · Dec 2014
Devil
Nihl Dec 2014
I went down to the river now now, to see what i could see there.
There i saw a congregation, washing away all of their sins.
Drip drip,
and away they sit on the surface of the river like thick black oil.
Their sins, they float out to the sea.
I walked on over, I joined the circle, asked them if it worked,
and if it'd work for me.
The people turned, and smiled wide,
I could'a sworn they told me
"yes"
just to be polite.
But I could see it,
see the lies in their eyes.
They could see right through it, Right on through my disguise.
Cause they knew.
Yeah they knew.
-
I felt like I was the devil now,
Like I was the devil in disguise.

N.H.
494 · Jun 2013
Goodbye
Nihl Jun 2013
I waited so long,
Eventually I got sick
I got sick of talking to myself.
I got sick of waiting,
I got sick of missing her.
I just started getting angry instead.
Angry.
Angry at myself
Angry for thinking
"she was so important."
Angry at her
for transforming
so
quickly
transforming into something
so unlike the
‘real'
her
that I had grown to love.
-
I wondered if i’d ever really met the
‘real’
her.
-
Friendship like a tree,
needs watering,
and she left me in drought.
Without apology,
without any sign of remorse or regret.
-
She
just
left.

N.H.
487 · Jun 2013
Drift
Nihl Jun 2013
Sometimes,
when you talk a lot
and you think a lot
you start to float.
You float so far away,
That I can't quite reach you.
"Come back!"
I call
"Come back down here!"
I want to be your anchor.
I want to keep your feet firmly placed
Upon the ground.
But I don't want to cage you,
I don't want to lock you up.
I want you to be free,
But most of all, I worry you see.
Next time you float away,
I want you to take something with you.
I want you to take me.

N.H.
473 · Jun 2013
Solitude
Nihl Jun 2013
I can’t sleep… I need solitude to function.
Without enough solitude I tend to become too attached, grounded even.
This is unacceptable, as a born adventurer.
A lonesome wanderer who prefers to float,
unguided and untethered.
But even then we are forever searching for that golden, breathless, moment.
That fleeting moment in which you find your missing piece.
The piece that is, that slots comfortably into the puzzle of your life.
And comfortably,
completes it.

N.H.
464 · Jun 2013
Nightmare
Nihl Jun 2013
These dreams, twisted dreams.
It begins as i’m living through an every-day,
mundane situation.
But suddenly,
abruptly
the dream forcefully collapses into a
traumatizing,
and uncontrollable horror.
Usually I am left with a complete lack of motor function,
helpless,
paralyzed.
-
The worst thing about it
is that even after waking,
I still experience this dreadful dreamworld
creeping into my waking life.
It seems as though every time I awake
from one of these torturous sessions,
several phantoms from my subconscious
surround my bed,
grasping onto my reality for longer
and longer each time.
Each time with greater desperation
before they fade away.
leaving as quickly as they came,
as I am left to lie
swimming in dread
through the dead of the night.

N.H.
456 · Apr 2016
Climb
Nihl Apr 2016
With tired legs I began to reach it,
A peak who's view I haven't seen
For more than a little while.
I reach it's zenith and there I see
With the gaze of possibility, it's vision far extends the safety of the city and the wilderness in all it's hostility.
I'm jarred with what I see there on the side in which the sun peaks and sets. I see the plains and bountiful woodlands, roads that pull me into the great north with but a finger beckoning hither. It's a simple pull, but it pulls on strings bound to the very soul of a wayward son.
-
Behind me crested on an ocean of light so quickly fading now into a winters twilight. There lies a field of tar and swamp that I have climbed through and risen from. I still bear the putrid marks and shed the dying limbs of the marshland that held and swallowed my legs with ease.
A memory though but a moment earlier in relevance now seems so distant. For I am not bound anymore, I stand upon the peak where I can see the now golden valleys and bounty laid before me like a buffet cast apon a hungry traveller. And the light follows me down into this hyperborean utopia

NH
442 · Jun 2013
Black Dog
Nihl Jun 2013
I have no friends,
I have no family,
I have no girlfriend,
I have no light,
I have only dark.
-
I will just focus on my work
and I drive on through this hell
with nothing but the dying hope
that there Is light on the other side.
I need to be here,
I can't go yet.
-
**** this black dog,
biting at my heels.

N.H.
421 · Jun 2013
To the Stars
Nihl Jun 2013
A prayer to the stars,
-
Please give me the power
to stand my ground
and render any room
a fortress impregnable.
-
Please bless me with the vitality and growth
for that I can forever evolve and adapt,
never stagnant.
But dynamic,
like the raging storm.
-
Please give me the courage,
fuel and focus
for the beast within me.
-
So that I may one day headfirst
into the blindly darkened corridors
of all the challenges I must survive.
-
Let me not have fear,
but allow me to be that which all others fear.
-
Let it be that when it comes time
to walk my darkest tunnel,
the only being within that tunnel
worthy of fear
is
me.

N.H.
340 · Oct 2013
Poetry
Nihl Oct 2013
**** poetry.
It has never done anything for me,
And likely never will.

N.H.
335 · Jun 2013
Comfort
Nihl Jun 2013
We can all admit to taking comfort where we can find it,
No one should ever be shunned for merely seeking comfort.
After all it’s a far cry greater than the alternative.
And no one should ever feel bad for hiding from that.
I would always tell them,
-
"Tomorrow we can go our separate ways, I don’t mind at all.
I need only borrow your company for the night,
and I’ve only mine to lend.
But if you feel that golden fire,
be sure to let me know."

-
And in the flickering dawn when we are but half awake,
the early light bellows inwards to explore the room.
Now a quiet place… although not long before,
an electric storm had raged between these hills and valleys.
-
I go through dozens of them,
'comforts'.
But the more I do… the further away I feel
from the real comfort I am trying to find.

N.H.
330 · Jun 2023
Impermanence
Nihl Jun 2023
I emerged as the middle son of a resolute military family—a nomadic existence bereft of any fixed abode to call my own. No town or state bears witness to the imprint of my childhood, for I have been consigned to the liminal spaces, perpetually suspended between homes. It is an accursed experience, fraught with the ache of belonging nowhere, and yet, it bestows upon me unexpected offerings.

The bonds of friendship, woven through the thread of shared memories from childhood, elude my grasp. There are no cherished recollections etched upon the walls of a familiar dwelling, no nostalgic imprints of camaraderie nurtured through the passage of time. Instead, I traverse the vast expanse of existence as an eternal outsider, a wayfarer devoid of a place to call my own.

And yet, from this tempestuous journey of perpetual transience, there have been a few select gifts bestowed upon my nomadic soul. A unique charisma courses through my being—a bittersweet manifestation of my transient nature. It is a magnetism that dances on the periphery of attention, challenging the captivation of others with its fleeting essence. Like a passing zephyr, my presence tantalizes but eludes, leaving behind an ephemeral imprint upon those who chance upon my path.

In the ebb and flow of a life unmoored, I have come to cherish the transient beauty that accompanies impermanence. Like the fleeting bloom of a wildflower, I embody the essence of transience, embracing the delicate fragility of the present moment. It is within these ephemeral spaces that I find solace, for I have learned to embrace the inherent impermanence that weaves through the tapestry of existence.

Though I yearn for the stability of rootedness, I have discovered the gifts hidden within the nomadic rhythm of my life. The absence of a fixed abode has granted me a fluidity of perspective, a capacity to adapt and acclimate to the ever-changing landscapes that unfold before me. I have learned to find solace in the transient connections I forge along the way, cherishing the fleeting encounters that breathe life into the narrative of my existence.

As I wander through the kaleidoscope of human experiences, my heart bears witness to the beauty of impermanence. Like a wandering troubadour, I carry within me a melodic resonance, echoing the transient nature of existence itself. In the fleeting moments of connection, I seek to infuse the lives of others with the warmth of my presence, knowing that our time together is but a fleeting vignette in the grand tapestry of life.

And so, I continue to roam, forever embracing the ebb and flow of impermanence. With an unyielding spirit and an open heart, I navigate the uncharted terrain that stretches before me. For within the transience of my being lies the essence of my journey—a pilgrimage through the fluid landscapes of the human experience, where every encounter, no matter how fleeting, becomes an indelible stroke on the canvas of my ever-evolving narrative.

This ebb and flow of friendships and romances have woven a tumultuous pattern, their threads intricately tied to my family's enduring connection to the military. The comings and goings, the hellos and goodbyes, have become an all too familiar refrain in the symphony of my life. And as the seasons of connection have passed, I have become somewhat numb to their transient nature, a casualty of circumstance and repetition.

In the wake of these constant comings and goings, I find myself standing on the precipice of adulthood, bearing the weight of an unyielding separation. A veneer of detachment and professionalism masks the turbulent sea of emotions that surge beneath the surface. The few friendships I do manage to form are delicate, like gossamer threads, easily frayed and dispersed by the winds of impermanence. It is not that I lack the capacity for presence or charm, but rather the ever-lingering expectation that these connections will be short-lived. I have learned, through bittersweet experience, that relationships, like the changing seasons, are ephemeral and transient. What begins as a radiant summer romance inevitably fades into the distance, like the distant memory of a winter's chill. And I bear the weight of this impermanence, not as a burden to be cast aside, but as an intrinsic part of my being.

I perceive the world through the lens of a fleeting observer, a witness to the beauty and fragility of existence. Like a breathtaking sunset, each encounter shines brightly in its own fleeting moment, bringing a tear to my eye as I cherish its transient glory. But as quickly as the sun sinks below the horizon, so too do these moments slip away, leaving only the treasured memory in their wake. It is not a fault to be placed upon the shoulders of those who share these moments with me, for their presence is a gift I hold dear. No, the fault lies within myself, in my unconscious acceptance of impermanence.

And yet, amidst the ephemerality that shapes my world, there is a profound wisdom that has taken root within my soul. I have learned to embrace the beauty of the present, to revel in the moments of connection while acknowledging their inherent temporality. Each encounter becomes a masterpiece in its own right, a brushstroke of color upon the canvas of my existence. And though friendships and romances may come and go like the tides, leaving imprints upon my heart that reverberate with both joy and sorrow, I have come to accept their transience as an integral part of the human experience.

In this dance of impermanence, I have discovered a resilience that allows me to move forward, ever open to the possibilities that lie ahead. Each goodbye, though tinged with a touch of melancholy, becomes an opportunity for growth and transformation. I am a wanderer in the realms of connection, forever seeking the fleeting sparks that illuminate the path of my journey.

And so, as the chapters of my life unfold, I walk the delicate tightrope between attachment and release. I embrace the bittersweet symphony of impermanence, knowing that every encounter, no matter how fleeting, leaves an indelible mark upon the tapestry of my existence. Like a precious gem, each memory is polished and treasured, while I carry forward, forever attuned to the ephemeral nature of the world around me.

— The End —