Turn Yourself Around
6:43 PM Posted In Future , life , on the run , Philosophy , poetry , slam , Thoughts Edit This 0 Comments »
Our greatest tragedies are our biggest medals. We like to wear them as scars and souvenirs, showing them off to everyone we meet. See, what happened to me? See? And look, I'm still ok. Don't you get it. I'm fine. Have faith in me!
We're so fast to show our scars.
So quick to show the bruise.
Slower to show the blood
Slowest to show the wound.
Everyone loves a tragedy. We're all Shakespearean actors: To be or not to be?
Or worse. Our friends. The ones we lose or who get lost. Our bragging rights. Their pain, our momentary glory.
My friend had cancer.
My friend shot up with dirty needles.
My friend's mom died.
Conversation starters and stoppers. Do we ever stop to think what it is we're saying. The lives we trivialize for the moment's passion, that tiny spotlight on us.
If the game of life is a card game, don't deal me in. I don't want to win.
I'm tired of trumping around tragedies, masquerading them as achievements.
I'm tired of people harping on sadness.
That long wailing note.
The bell toll.
That empty chime.
Finished.
Done.
Dead.
In the silence, people think they know what you are thinking. I get annoyed whenever anyone thinks they have my riddled solved because hell, even I haven't gotten that far.
I get so frustrated some times.
People not understanding compassion, or just lacking it.
People not getting my goodwill or hijacking it.
And all that time people saying, here's my tragedy, look at it. Here's a microscope dissolve it under your lens.
I am tired of being the fucking hero. I am tired of untangling the strings in other people's lives then being left with nothing in my hands except the callouses I gained from working out the knots.
Do you know how it feels to be the one they forgot?
The thing is this. I'm not saying "dissect this." I'm just saying listen. "I'm here." Sometimes I put my thumbs on the keyboard and hit go on my brain. Sometimes I just start writing so you'd know I wasn't going insane. Letters are the blood cells of my brain. All they do is nourish me and reproduce.
What's this creature I'm creating?
I am not sure why I do what I do. Really, I just want to love God, but I don't even know how to. At night I don't sleep thinking I've missed the message or am failing to live it out - when I talk about the people I knew and loved and lost. Or the things I did or worse, the ones I failed to. When my life becomes more about me than everyone else.
I don't want to live with the spotlight on me. I want to live in the shadows. The man behind the curtain hoisting up others to fly. My biggest blasphemy, sometimes I think I could do what Jesus did. If I really tried hard. Sometimes I wonder if that's what we're supposed to. Just try really hard and fail by a lot.
I want to hold faith in the palms of my hands and say here, friends, examine.
I'm tired of highlighting tragedy.
Our lives are more than a list of failures.
Our songs more than low notes and minor keys.
I want to write symphonies that say "you are ok" and "you are loved."
I want to give hugs when I speak.
Wrap my words around souls so hard they can feel
The life seeping back into their bones.
I want to walk with a rhythm that says listen
You are a star that can glisten
Someday I hum hallelujahs and love poems
That flow out so far they hit the ocean
Evaporate by the sun then
Dissipate on everyone
A thousand I love you's a minute.
It's pretty beautiful you know
Love that melts the moon.
I want to stop lying. I want to stop saying I know so-and-so or this-and-such happened to me. If I could, I'd speak only of others. I want to mother the world. Say Baby girl, keep walking. Or better yet, keep talking. You're almost there.
You're almost there
You're almost there
You're almost there
But really,
Where is it that we're going.
And why are we in such a rush?
We're so fast to show our scars.
So quick to show the bruise.
Slower to show the blood
Slowest to show the wound.
Everyone loves a tragedy. We're all Shakespearean actors: To be or not to be?
Or worse. Our friends. The ones we lose or who get lost. Our bragging rights. Their pain, our momentary glory.
My friend had cancer.
My friend shot up with dirty needles.
My friend's mom died.
Conversation starters and stoppers. Do we ever stop to think what it is we're saying. The lives we trivialize for the moment's passion, that tiny spotlight on us.
If the game of life is a card game, don't deal me in. I don't want to win.
I'm tired of trumping around tragedies, masquerading them as achievements.
I'm tired of people harping on sadness.
That long wailing note.
The bell toll.
That empty chime.
Finished.
Done.
Dead.
In the silence, people think they know what you are thinking. I get annoyed whenever anyone thinks they have my riddled solved because hell, even I haven't gotten that far.
I get so frustrated some times.
People not understanding compassion, or just lacking it.
People not getting my goodwill or hijacking it.
And all that time people saying, here's my tragedy, look at it. Here's a microscope dissolve it under your lens.
I am tired of being the fucking hero. I am tired of untangling the strings in other people's lives then being left with nothing in my hands except the callouses I gained from working out the knots.
Do you know how it feels to be the one they forgot?
The thing is this. I'm not saying "dissect this." I'm just saying listen. "I'm here." Sometimes I put my thumbs on the keyboard and hit go on my brain. Sometimes I just start writing so you'd know I wasn't going insane. Letters are the blood cells of my brain. All they do is nourish me and reproduce.
What's this creature I'm creating?
I am not sure why I do what I do. Really, I just want to love God, but I don't even know how to. At night I don't sleep thinking I've missed the message or am failing to live it out - when I talk about the people I knew and loved and lost. Or the things I did or worse, the ones I failed to. When my life becomes more about me than everyone else.
I don't want to live with the spotlight on me. I want to live in the shadows. The man behind the curtain hoisting up others to fly. My biggest blasphemy, sometimes I think I could do what Jesus did. If I really tried hard. Sometimes I wonder if that's what we're supposed to. Just try really hard and fail by a lot.
I want to hold faith in the palms of my hands and say here, friends, examine.
I'm tired of highlighting tragedy.
Our lives are more than a list of failures.
Our songs more than low notes and minor keys.
I want to write symphonies that say "you are ok" and "you are loved."
I want to give hugs when I speak.
Wrap my words around souls so hard they can feel
The life seeping back into their bones.
I want to walk with a rhythm that says listen
You are a star that can glisten
Someday I hum hallelujahs and love poems
That flow out so far they hit the ocean
Evaporate by the sun then
Dissipate on everyone
A thousand I love you's a minute.
It's pretty beautiful you know
Love that melts the moon.
I want to stop lying. I want to stop saying I know so-and-so or this-and-such happened to me. If I could, I'd speak only of others. I want to mother the world. Say Baby girl, keep walking. Or better yet, keep talking. You're almost there.
You're almost there
You're almost there
You're almost there
But really,
Where is it that we're going.
And why are we in such a rush?
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