Cathartic Staircase

The ideas of life and ways of acting in big moments are never certain. I guess a real and meaningful moment can only last for seconds in reality. Although, my memory of that small timeframe can be replayed in the mental for the rest of my life. And your in the interview chair getting questioned not by anyone else, but it is the self evaluating alternative outcomes for those large moments. Did that make sense?

There are strong moments that I come across and maybe at the end, I can think back about better ways of phrasing what was within. I can time travel and fix my mental but then that will only give me another chance to rethink everything. Changes and chances come and go but how can I become closer to the one inside trying to express something great. I should have said it differently…

The biggest problem is that thinking or not thinking, you are constantly learning about yourself. And reliving those moments can be beneficial if you are concentrating on improving. Understanding the self is key but by learning about my actions in these moments I’m able to feel free of it being over. The mind works in mysterious ways and I can be limiting myself to what is possible by not evaluating what I have experienced so far. At least something was said…

Taking apart those certain moments are not always fun. Maybe because it is realizing that things aren’t perfect. The afterthoughts are food for thought. The content that will prepare me for what else is on my plate, so eat everything up.

Safely Wreckless

“Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing.” — Sylvia Plath

The double edged sword is sharp and dull, all in all the mental state and being in control of knowing theres no control in various situations ahead. There are dangers and evils that come from both, wanting everything or wanting nothing. I think Biggie said it best: Mo’ Money Mo’ problems. There is this certain type of appreciation for what you already have. Everything I have is all I’ll ever need. But…but what if I want something else? I can attain more than I was given. I can have it all. Powers and possessions. Having it all at all costs. I just must be aware of the responsibilities that follow. The solutions I need to be scheming in order to keep what I feel entitled to own. Chasing a destiny that can be never enough because we will continue to want more. So much more that you forgot what it was that was driving you to want more. It’s almost like having too much can cause you to lose appreciation for maybe the simple things you can posses in life. Wanting nothing and being content with what you have can also be harmful to the point of limiting myself to what is possible in the world.

Live by the sword die by the sword. Protecting what you have or chasing after riches you can never own. The mind is the best weapon. And if your using that to it’s best capabilities then you can face dangerous situations with a brave face.

Remember The Time

I’ve notice that I retell the same story and yet with the right wording the story can be something new and exciting. Remembering certain details to the tale, maybe characters that made appearances in the prelude you forgot to mention. The stories that end are really only beginnings for other journeys to be told.

The blog was just this project that grew into something else important for me to tend to. I see it as my trophy for effort. I just kept running with it and continue to still see what other topics I can be addressing within. I do feel like a broken record at times by always having the same message, the way of phrasing my inner thoughts can sound repetitive. I think as a writer your constantly trying to get better and somehow still remain simple, humble. It’s tough to constantly find new ways of saying the same thing. Although we have the ability to express the soul, often times it can just be the tongue tied.

Inspiration, writer’s block, there are these elements of distraction and even false motivation to be dealt with. I deal with writer’s block everyday and at the end of the day I can really only blame me for thinking excuses make the situation any better. The reasons of why things didn’t get finished can take up time. Time that could have been used wisely but only got spent thinking rather than doing.

I never though writing and creating a blog would be something I would spend my days doing. Since I’ve started the blog it’s been very rewarding for me to experience. Even if I have one reader, even if I just write haikus about the holidays, the release of this energy transferred from my brain to the computer is just awesome. I write the blog really not knowing what a blog could be. That’s what impresses me most about having a blog, I can be part of this vast community and still feel I have something unique to offer this world I know little about.

Utilizing the voice to get exactly what I need done. The blog is practice for life. I write for the sake of knowing that writing can solve or start problems. It is this place for me to draw ideas via the internet. It is all these things and more. I think everyday I’m more open to what a blog post can bring and by staying almost unaware for what comes next. Being able to go back to the original storyline and finding new insights to ponder, I just enjoy digging for ways to express what is coming from inside.

Storiesfrommystomach

Taco Nights Stay

I have the fondest memories of the greatest nights, the infamous Taco Nights are what kept me happy growing up. Good food that was prepared by the loveliest individuals in my life. I may have mentioned in previous posts but there are two types of tacos in my philosophy, soft and hard.

Hard tacos are my favorite, I have no problem with soft tacos. Hard tacos just resonate passion in my taste buds. Maybe it’s the grease combining together the meat and shell. Whatever it is that has my belly satisfied, hard tacos get me tingly.

My Aunty Rachel was the one who showed me what a taco could be. Her hard tacos just filled my heart with joy. I’m able to make them now, well a version of how she makes hers. Good food equals good times. The definition of Taco Night was established at my Aunty’s, so I’m only trying to do her tacos justice. She would make enough tacos to fill two big cake pans. We would scarf down those tacos and laugh about what the time was bringing us.

Our older cousins gave us a preview of the world, they were like a decade ahead of us. My brother and I had a lot to learn from them during those nights, trading stories getting full from the tacos. It was a bonding experience now that I think about it, we all had something to face the next day. School and work in the morning. What else is new?

Fast forward to the now and my brother asks if I can make some hard tacos for dinner. My niece is hungry and we got the ingredients for a Taco Night. We sat at the table and then realized that a long time had gone by without us making tacos. It was a refreshing reminder about how much the specific tastes of our foods can make things better. Life, the day, the week, the night, the next day(leftovers), and just the overall spirit of being human. Great flavors ponder the memory and these Taco Nights connect me to the ones that mean the most. Food for thought.

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Oh Gilligan

This is like me sending you away to fend for yourself on some island. I knew this was a sketchy request. Oh hell, I did what you said and packed five things for you to have on a deserted island. I don’t know if this is real or some sick prank, and whoever thought that time travel was real. If you do say you’ll be able to survive on this island then this is what I would send you my poor Gilligan.

You will find it in the suitcase.

1. The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz. Its not that long of a read and it might help bring some kind of guidance while your on survival mode. Read it multiple times, trust me.

2. Ukulele. I ‘m not too sure if you play but I thought that you could learn while on the island. I was thinking about sending you a guitar but it just seemed to take up too much space. The Ukulele is nice and snug and I thought you could learn to jam out. Make some music for the island. Learn.

3. Machete. I’m pretty sure this will come in handy. Digging to slicing, it does it all. Use wisely. It is the lightsaber for the Jedi. May the force be with you.

4. Van Morrison Astral Weeks-CD player. I’m assuming you have some way of charging batteries. I just picked this one album. This is just a work of art and Van Morrison is just singing his heart out. You feel the soul in sounds of his voice. The guitars and every other string instrument is all doing something different although it all ties into one sound. Amazing. Learn the songs on the Ukulele.

5. A Comfortable Pillow. Where ever you lay your head. At least provide some cushion and if you get lonely you can pretend it’s someone your holding.

The suitcase is not apart of the care package. So if you survive this tour gone wrong or whatever castaway situation you got your self in, I want the suitcase back. Just kidding. Well discuss it when the time comes. Take Care Gilligan. Storiesfrommystomach.

Turkey Lovers Feast

The leftovers are king and the ruler of my heart. The aftermath of the leftovers for Thanksgiving is usually turkey galore. Turkey sandwiches for days.

Would you like some turkey with that turkey and save some room for dessert because we have turkey.

Turkey sandwiches wasn’t what I wanted for another day. I knew turkey would be on the menu but I did not want it on a slice of bread. I wanted it wrapped like a taquito. Turned on the oven and let’s begin this transformation. Leftovers with a spin.

Change is difficult if your not willing to change yourself. Turkey is turkey but with a little extra maneuvering I can still have something new and delicious.

Don’t be turkey…

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Baby I Got You

I sweet talk myself because I know it all depends on me. In the grand scheme of things I’m just trying get a point across and get some bread, make sure my family is good.

In a moment of panic trapped under an avalanche of worries.
There are those thoughts that divide you from the living and the passed. The day I can never get passed. It was a painful experience.

If I were trapped under an avalanche of snow and had the time to just be in the state of being trapped. There would be a few things that ran through my mind. Thoughts about the car accident I was in about six years would be something to ponder. I survived this brutal car wreck and I am very grateful to be living in this moment. And it is apart of me but this event was always a reminder to be tough. I guess it’s more to be tough mentally than physically. I mean they are two separate challenges. I am lucky to live to tell this tale but it is something tragic I must tell to myself only to remind myself.

Another thought that would come up for contemplation while being in a cave made of snow. My Great Grandmother who was this saint of a person and just endured a much different time than mine and yet she was the sweetest soul. I guess I don’t have any recollections of her being angry or upset. As she got older I was always grateful that I knew her. Those moment that only we could reminisce about, she just had a way of making you feel loved for who you were. She always is someone inspiring and wise to have in my thoughts. I would think about her and remind myself that I’ve come a long way; this connection to my Great Grandmother was strength. I know deep within I have her strong spirit and everything will be fine. I remind myself that I have strong people watching over me.

I am from strong people and to be in a place of acceptance of what’s done or complete, there is always the afterthought of things that maybe weren’t done. Things that got left incomplete can be something that can come in my cold seclusion. The life that I was chasing or fixing. The dreams that had only blueprints. I might wonder about how things are going to change once I’m saved.

This reminds me of the episode of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air when they get stuck in a cave during a snow storm. Luckily they find a duffle bag of money they can burn to keep warm before they are rescued. I guess in a situation of not knowing you can really see what riches matter. Money or gold is worthless if I’m frozen but without a penny to my name and no gold chain around my neck, I can still be the riches man alive due to surviving a vicious snow storm. Life can be complicated if you overthink it.

Hope thaws the snow