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stéphane noir Nov 2017
the ultimate life hack
is when you realize that
life is happening right now.
it's not happening in the future-
i mean, it's not happening tomorrow
anymore than it ever happened in the past.
it's actually just happening right now
and no matter how many times somebody says it
or how many times oprah prints it in her books
or how many times ferris bueller repeats it on TBS reruns,
life moves fast and you've gotta slow down and just live it.

once you do this one time, you're addicted to it.
you find the simple task of folding the laundry
has some hidden mystery buried in it.
picking the lint from the lint catcher.
typing the keys on the keyboard-
there's some hidden mystery in every moment.
and these are things that you know you should be doing.
that's almost the worst part:
the mystery is hidden in the simple, routine, mechanized things.
the more we let machines do those things for us
the less we work with our hands,
the more emotional and intellectual stress we feel,
the less we have a mundane, mindless task to work that stress out.
don't sit there and tell me it's not theraputic
to rub clothes against a washboard for a while.
it's rhythmic. it's tribal. it's instinct. it's therapy.

we spend so much of our lives
working as hard as can to get away from these things,
and ironically they are what we need the most:
to be able to turn off the brain and just
scrub a dish for a half an hour
it's ******* mesmerizing,
an endorphin release.

but, sadly, if you're anything like me
you skip through these moments
and trade them in for 10 more mins in front of the TV.
Or worse yet, you actually have nothing to do
so you just worry and fret about dumb ****
until you've actually created a real problem.
don't be like the ghost-of-you's-passed.
make a list of real problems you've got right now,
and when you skip washing the dish
because you're opting for the washing machine,
take that 5 or 10 minutes and
work on solving one of them son *******.

making my own list in t-minus 5...
stéphane noir Oct 2017
just got out of the shower
and i'm already sweating, buddy.
but i can't get the ****** thing off my mind
and i'll tell you why... oh boy you'll wanna hear it.
at first it's got you feeling all uppity
like you're ready to just
bounce up out of your seat
float to the windowsil
stare out for a brief moment before
whacking open the shudders
and taking the sunlight on your face and chest,
(loosening the top three buttons to really get the full effect.)
hell... the durned thing makes you wan-
t to break open your own durned rib cage
so your heart doesn't burst right through!
["you're your own monster!", somebody yells
but the rest of the audience shushes him right quick.]

then, buddy, comes the whole galloping and galavanting bit
where you triple jump your way through Villeneuve,
carefully noticing the shopkeepers and
hourglass employees at les boutiques.
["fingers crossed she doesn't drop it!"
an irate audience turns and glares... he stops.]
The nostalgia is ripe with a spring air, a thick humidity,
and a ******* chorus of plants and animals following you around.
You're on your first day of summer vacation!
You're free of every living thing that you've ever known and
you have no past present or future to introduce a care in the world!
God himself crafted your milky white edges
for this moment and this moment alone.

but then at the water's edge it all changes, buddy.
and before you all know it our anonymously familiar heroine
is stepped in (what feels like) a simple self-pity
that's been passed and passed anew since her
little house on the prairie ancestors,
["probably should've grabbed that spine!"]
and there's no telling when the panic attack will begin.
she is chained to the shore in true promethean fashion,
and the lights dim down real low as the tempest approaches.

but it never comes.
instead she is greeted by the ghost of #$%^##$%s passed
and the words that a younger woman wrote,
a fierce woman, who takes cream in her coffee at the cafe
but always tips the people because she knows how hard it is;
someone who would pick up a three leaf clover and keep it;
a lady who loves surprises.... just loves 'em, good or bad;
a seamstress who could weave a pirate's tale,
and leave you waking up in the morning itching for adventure;

... somebody who listens when other people speak.

[nobody moves but somebody starts crying and the spell is broken.]

she is startled alive from her musings by the coast and finds herself
surrounded by a thousand heroes with one face that's smiling at her...

... a lousy smile, i'll give you that,
but a smile, and an ordinarily little push of the thumb
to fix that spine back into the shelf.
thank you
stéphane noir Jul 2017
i would never ask
and you may never tell,
but do you ever see that
dream of us in Mexico?
it's okay. it's okay. it's ok.
you don't have to answer.
just hush now and say
something sweet to me
inside of your head.
Tell me dear tell me
do you still see us
at the Louvre, in the rain?
is it me standing there
or is it someone else?
how do his hands feel?
how does his voice peal?
does his fragrance waft
away from his skin and
tickle the ***** minora?
does he wash his sheets
every four or five weeks
to keep the lonely facade in tact?
does he live on a staple of
beer and roast beast,
an occasional moonshine
when the mood strikes him just?
does he torture himself senselessly,
incessantly, bridging the neurons
to find he's forgotten it all?
... does he love Cherry Coke?
he isn't there with you is he?
it's somebody else. somebody
with yellow hair to his shoulders
and bright shining blue eyes:
the kind of eyes that tend to
outshine you, and all the
things you convinced us
you've got going for you.
the kind of eyes that seep charity.
oh, is he there with you when
you're snorkeling in the Maldives
and you realize that you've gone
just a bit too far underwater...
you're very deep when you
well know you shouldn't be.
then tell me: what happens?
you are found and swept,
carried and rescued until
BOOM! You breach the veneer
and there are all your friends
looking down at you, thinking:
"thank the Lord our Savior for
Titus Arnold Masters McMajor."

but love please love oh love,
tell me who you really see.
touch your lips and swear to me
that it isn't the mediocre man
who doesn't spring to your mind.
both of you without a stitch,
floating abreast and prone:

skeletons in the Dead Sea.
stéphane noir Jan 2017
learn to settle in.
no matter what the situation
no matter how bleak it may appear,
settle in.

you expect permanacy.
after all these years of change
you still sit back and
on a subconscious level, anyways,
expect permanency.

it's not going to happen.

knowing that its not going to happen,
you can settle in and wait for the change.
you never get too comfortable at all.
and whenever there's a change,
and there's a big upraor about it,
you can join and and sing
"i can't believe this is happening !"
and to yourself,

settle in and
maybe shut the hell up about everything being
so miserable all the time.
chill out.
it'll pass.
the sleepless saint. &
sw. yukta shwara (sp)
stéphane noir Aug 2016
success is just about doing a bunch of little things right.
it's about going to bed when you want to stay up.
it's about putting down that extra beer every night.
it's about going for a run when you think you're exhausted.
it's about waking up early to feel better and more productive.
it's just about making certain little choices all the time:
choosing one thing over another
when you know it's the right thing to do.

it's about giving up things that you've been meaning to give up forever.
it's about not making  that one call, sending that one text.
it's about not having an opinion that matters so **** much all the time.
it's about keeping your promises, most importantly to yourself.
it's about holding yourself accountable to your goals; staying focused.
it's about being present in your body, breathing consciously, & feeling.
it's about knowing the difference between relative and absolute.
it's about understanding the idea of compounded interest on time.
it's about doing the seemingly insignificant little actions over and over.

success doesn't grow on trees...
but it certainly does grow.
it starts as a small little seedling,
barely able to stand on it's own.
then through constant care and attention,
focus and discipline, love and determination,
it grows big and tall and strong!
and the big success is sweet,
but the little ones are the sweeter.
stéphane noir Jul 2016
what it must feel like
to be the moon:
forever and ever away from your love;
to know full well that
you won't ever get any closer:
you can't ever touch her..

... yet, you look upon her without end.
stéphane noir Jun 2016
it goes beyond just getting rid of things,
it's a way of life.
it means no unnecessary action.
imagined if you lived in your home by yourself
and you only did literally the things that needed to be done,
no extra stuff. no excess action.

that is minimalism.

the key is to be able to do that
when there's other people around.
the key is to be able to recognize
what's just filler and bull
and what is actually the meat of life,
because most of it is just
nonsense that gets in the way
of the important stuff.

it comes
from a perspective shift.
it's about seeing that
wealth is futile
and self preservation is futile
and that really the only purpose
to any of this ****
is to help others.
that is the only thing that means anything: helping others.

think about it...
why even live a long life?
why preserve yourself?
of what purpose is any of this?

we are only beneficial
when we are of use to each other.

we are of no use to ourselves.
i didn't know what to say
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