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Sabali wabi sabi

  • an experimental piece I wrote inspired by the existential Japanese philosophy- Wabisabi

Does it need to be said

Because the Media makes you think your make up is inappropriate?

If you are horrified to ask Google for mental health support

You know I’m hear to tell it — (once )’for a cause not for an applause’

To avoid the pariah of your mind.

Who you are is important for your wellbeing

Beautiful you are because of your malaise.

Its about what you think.

A unique template for peace of mind.

Alone-thoughts are you,

And yours together.

Others’ opinions must dance alone with their shadows.

Fathoming the world is relative to your state

Your kind.

Diagrams and graphic diagnostics aren’t “normal”!

Natural ?!

Necessary?

Merely for inferences and academic utterances.

Your Beauty is personified by playful events racing around your head.

Love it like you love…

…another human

Beings

Those who have numbers and words yet can’t calculate when there’s enough unsaid.

Needs are experiences.

Feelings are needs…

Interpret the world through the vessel of your spirited Self.

When skies hang drab

Do you dazzle because you can see a scattered horizon of hope — as a possibility ?

When the Others tether connections

Tumble into an abyss —

Can you see their limits ?

Step back.

Allow them to be.

Is your world subject to scrutiny because of how you interpret human nature?

Do you deviate from society’s accusations of what is the trending status quo?

What if the box you live in is… outside?

What if you build a bridge

Bearing a cross

Over to acceptable taboos ?

Breath prescribed by an arched smile.

Diagnose yourself Beautiful- because of your laments.

Before time becomes an absolute Obsession

Forecasting the outcome to the finale to the play of ‘This is your Life’.

Take moments to repose.

Free yourself from the expectation

To be your career

To win over the Marvel comic genderless hero.

Deprecate your expectations to finance your inner Happiness resources.

This entity is inside your realm of Consciousness — restless

Trodden and stamped into a standing pose.

Moments of reflection pace

Forwards then backwards

Misunderstood

Are you what you want to be?

Can you begin a journey if you don’t understand where you are at?

Certainly living up to some other lifer’s calculation should

Pause your being into a statuesque introspection.

To dismiss your guttural instincts will unravel you at the seams— out-thread you out of your very own mind.

Success comes from mapping out your own directions.

Hopeful-to wake up to another day of understanding ‘This is your Life’.

Your ability to comprehend, foreshadows your failed attempts to claw out of the darkest pit.

Sounds of the ocean lap to your melody.

Nothing that you feel about Today

Can conceive the trembling murmurs cut off from the guillotine of your Sanity.

In all of your figurements…are you determined to act out your suicides because you fear your inability to state your arousel ?

Who you are

Is that wrong?

Thoughts pre empt if everything is filled in with Leftism.

Resist apologising

Dismiss you have the good view

Change your world

Thoughtfully

Refuse every thing

That threatens your Passions —

That provokes beta beatings whistling out of tune.

Precious notions find a sense of disambiguation before the matter resolves itself.

Do you tell others to respond to what you fail to question?

Where is the perversity in watching the death of your inner Flinch — to conclude this delusion ?

What if you won’t be the canvas that contains an abstract spectrum fading you out of very own Self ?

Look on at those who shrink into their frames bled of every shade of hues

Is this what you want?

Creativist Andrew MCg -The Rage

I wanna write something new

I wanna write a poem that’ll make me forget

Just like the alcohol use to

I wanna write a poem that’ll make me regret

Just like all the one-night stands did

I wanna write a poem that’ll make you feel dirty

The kind that makes you get dressed, leave immediately than go get tested

I wanna write the kind of poem that is as hard to listen to as it is to recite

I wanna write a poem that’ll leave my skin crawling and my ears bleeding 

I want this poem to bleed as much as I did

Let these blue lines be my veins, the bleached paper be my skin

This poem doesn’t have much left because my heart is paper thin

Let the ink run deep, leave this page looking like a murder scene

I wanna write a poem like murder she wrote 

Right before she broke her knife off into my back

I wanna write a poem like a sneak attack

The kind that catches you by surprise in the middle of the night

Like a nightmare with no way out

I wanna write a poem to allow my darkness a way to scream and shout

It’s not meant to be loud, it just is

This poem doesn’t care if you listen

This poem will slit the wrists to any awkward silences out there

Beware of the dog its bark is far less than it’s bite

I wanna write a poem as long this line of crushed up valium

Let this poem leave me just as high and as numb 

I wanna write a rain dance than bring forth the dark clouds

Drown out this piece of paper and wash away the doubts 

I wanna write a poem like a one-way road

Then bulldoze everything in its path

I wanna write a poem like a cold body in a warm bath

Then give it 13 reasons why it never should’ve been alive

I want this poem to be a fit of my desolate rage 

That still burns even after I exit this stage.