Trustful & Misery

It is a major discipline: to feel another human being’s attempt to control me and forgive such a sin while I choose to refrain from it, even while feeling my own lack of personal control.
(Discipline as in self-restraint)
And mistrust is probably a bi-product of attempted control.
We have all seen the parents who try to control their kid.   They feel the need to control someone else because they lack the ability to control themselves. And the kid grows up rebellious towards all forms of parenting and struggles to trust leadership.
It is easy for me, an adult who has learned from experience, how to deal with emotional abuse, to reject emotional control while remaining in a position of servanthood/submission. But for a child, there is no mental grid for it—you just do as you are told and suffer the consequences.
Someone who is having a bad day—they project negative feelings into the air like a poison and to hold your breath is sometimes even more than a discipline because you are sprinting a race right beside them.
Teamwork was the original method to performing but one of us is feeling out of control which is leading everybody to have trust issues.

To tag that thought—if I can successfully refuse to be controlled, I will have successfully avoided all chance of developing a trust issue towards the person who made the attempt.
What would the world look like if we each understood that humans are imperfect and if we learned to forgive?

Forgiveness—the true discipline I am referring to here.
Forgiving someone even while they do not see their need for mercy.
“You’re running the wrong way, team captain! But it’s okay, I’ll finish the race for us while I hold my breath. And after it is all done, I will hand you the trophy.”
Who deserves the trophy anyways?
The race belongs to us all.

I have tangented, but all this to say, discipline sucks in this case…it is pure misery. But relationships are worth it…at least to me.

‘Merica Mama


What I feel when I own something,
when I do,
Control something.
It is only fair that this is mine and that is yours.
I have a right to live how I like.
Slavery is obvious when money is exchanged for human beings—observe human history—but slavery runs rampant in our homes, friendships etc and it is going unnamed.
“The man I am dating isn’t responding to the text I just sent him. I will now send him a text that will remind him to text me back. And then I will send him another one that reminds him that he failed to send me a ‘good morning text’. And then I’ll remain frustrated with him and let cellular technology ruin the rest of my day.”
That mama fish thinks she owns the sea.
She creates a current called passive aggression and not only does she hate all who do not swim with her, all who choose to avoid her hate the current. Because the current crashes parties and kills fun.
Man finally responds using a friend’s phone the following day, “My phone was stolen last night. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
How about, sorry I cannot help you see that the entire world does not revolve around you and that you don’t have the right to control me.
In the end, mama fish is just insecure, is a slave in her own home.
How is it that we can so easily enslave ourselves subconsciously through the simple choice to feel entitled?
How can we not just choose be thankful?
Didn’t know that was an option?
I say all of this only because it is a lesson I have learned in recent months.
I, a human, can never truly own another human or control one.
I am a slave to God if I am a slave to anyone.
What possible control or rights I have been given only stem from the permission of the God who truly owns me. That is by choice—in theory—not to get all theological on you.
Everyone has a God in the end—either God or themselves.
And to conclude, not to be morbid but, what is more humiliating? Drowning like mama fish who strangles herself with loneliness/bitterness OR swimming past the net into dark, scary, unknown waters with your party face on?


google images, my personal meme
This is an expansion of my last post “Should Do”

I am convinced that it is a feeling I can avoid for the rest of my life.
Dread is the result of undealtwith business.
Either that or the very-much-disliking of something.
But I most likely dislike because I haven’t found it within myself to enjoy.
Can anything be enjoyable?
Can I have fun doing anything?
While cooking up a line of twenty frappuccinos, the average barista feels dread in regard to the growing line of customers.
Work=no fun.
The average me sees the line and glances at the clock.
The average me feels exhilaration because now it is a race against time.

“I can’t stand it.”
A phrase to describe hatred.
I come to hate something when I have ignored my disliking until the last second.
It is healthy to put things past me, forgive, leave old me behind, grieve, be thankful.
Kill something that needs to die. Let the balloons fly.
It is unhealthy to grieve something that has not died yet—bury something alive.
Wait until the last minute to say goodbye.
Crumble a city into a ball and throw it far behind me. Never return. (Rather than throw it forward in all of its glory and pray it boomerangs.)
I dread a test because I dread the possible consequences of that test.
Why don’t I accept the fact that I deserve the consequences…I might then enjoy them.

I am jumping around quite a bit.
All this to say, if you know you should do something, you should not procrastinate.
You should deal with things when it feels right to deal with them even if is extremely uncomfortable.
It is better to be in control of your own life than to feel the constant rebound of past issues and allow it to drive you forward. Embrace your driving abilities and embrace the pain.
Pain is part of the fun.
*When you teach Physical Education at any age level, your goal is to construct a lesson plan that cuts kids off mid-game in order to avoid future feelings of dread. Second graders, for example, have a 5-7 minute time cut-off for enjoyment of any particular activity. “Play tag and complete these tasks.”  The kids will run wild for five minutes and if they would exhaust themselves by minute 6, it is the teacher’s goal to stop the activity and either change it or introduce an entirely new activity before that mark, before they stop having fun. If you invite your junior highers to play flag football, you stop the game while they are seemingly full of energy, at the high point, mid-exhilaration. They will return to your class the next day begging you for another game of flag football.
It sounds manipulative but perhaps fun is what is manipulative. And perhaps manipulation in that case is the perfect remedy for life’s misfortune.

(google photo memed by yours truly)

Should Do


Do what you think you should do.
If you have a brain and ears…
..You have no reason to ever regret doing anything.
You take notes and move forward
And you continue to do what you think you should do.
So do it.
The option to do what you should will evolve into must.
Would you rather become a slave or a prince?
Earn your wages or make sacrifices for wages?
Your people will hate you…or thank you?

Silent Fish

Part 1: Hidden meaning
Two precious eyes
Cannot tell their line of sight
They must tell me
Unless they stray mine

It is not look, it is stare
Into my world, right through
Onto neurons
Milky mouth without care
Gum in hair, a child knows

Language then words
Notion that sits
On the left lobe
Wrong, right, great, good
Filling a hole…

Pt2: Potential energy
…Two precious drums
Cannot tell the muted
They must hear me
Lest they lose heart

It is not absence, it is clear
Into the sky grow trees of air
Onto stars
Milky mouth without a care
Humming wood, the moon of old

Always there
Silence that stands
Amidst who probe
Love, hatred, integrity, hope
Filling the heart of a man…

Pt3: Toleration
…Two precious sides
Cannot see the other
They must love me
Lest they burn over

It is not crown, it is bare
Unto decades, stare turns
Onto Empathy
Milky mouth without a pair
Fire, elements never lie

Effort, effortlessness
Equally affordable
Worthy is no one
Lung, soul, prince, sliver
Filling the atmosphere

Part 4: Choices
Two precious tides
They must take now
Lest the fish never spit me

(Reflection:  You cannot tell what a person is seeing/thinking by watching their eyes but you can guess fairly accurately even if they are using their most adult methods to keep a secret. You can feel wrong and feel right in the absence of spoken word. Body language, lack thereof. Thoughts are more harmful than words sometimes. Even a deaf person can experience whispers and secrets. Invisible things shape us. But some things kept invisible for too long make the heart sick. It might take the same amount of effort to keep a secret as it does to tell a secret, to tolerate something as it does to deal with something. It is worth the effort to make some things known even if it is painful.
Fire—it is silent and refining. Milk—it is full of nutrients, that is if the one who produced it was also full of nutrients. Even in the midst of wars and offense, there’s been someone doing what they need to do. I would like to be that person and not the person who would shy away, to be the person who doesn’t just look at you but reads you and honestly cares.  To not be courageous is to be selfish.  And to be apathetic is to stick yourself in the belly of a fish only to burn and die…and to dishonor those who ever called themselves fishermen.)


What do you do?

..When you come home from work and a strange man is standing at the edge of your driveway and he asks, “Are you the one? Are you the one I’ve been waiting for?”
(Ans: Just say NO.)

..When you are forced onto a stage to play bass because nobody else wants to play bass?
(Ans: Just say YES, think NO.)

..When a guy shakes your hand and says, “You play bass really good! Can I buy you a Manhattan?
(Ans: Just say NO.)

..When you have a crush on a pothead who is balding and has a kid?
(Ans: Flow with it.)

..When someone asks you to play drums on tv?
(Ans: Just say YES.)

..When your cat keeps pooping in your roommate’s coffee beans?
(Ans: Remain proud cat owner.)

..When your friends join the occult?
(Ans: Just say NO.)

..When somebody wants you to name your new band the “Denim Daze”…or the “Snack Time Heroes.”
(Ans: Just say NO.)

..When you are at the pool hall and somebody goes to the jukebox and plays four taylor swift songs in a row?
(Ans: Swear under breath.)

..When you complete a college degree?
(Ans: Just work for Starbucks.)

Not that you were asking for advice, but it may come handy if you ever choose to live my life.

PTPW on a Flying Horse

Post-traumatic stress disorder.
I’m pretty sure I have a form of this.
Really, every human probably does to an extent.
Trigger points and such.
But what would lead me to become so terribly logical and non-emotional, so unmoved by things that cause a normal human discomfort, panic, heartache, etc?
Callused maybe.
Apathetic maybe.
I would feel more concerned about this state of being but my emotions are almost completely inactive and the subject of turmoil is only candy to my brain cells—something to suck on, critique, swallow whole or spit out.
Digestion is a joke.
False nutrition. A tease to the immune system and a waste of energy.
It might as well be a piece of glass, a precious jewel or a gold dollar.
It’s a chemical much like cocaine. Not your everyday insoluble fiber.
My insides are probably thrashed.

Somehow my heart is caged against the rocks and metals.
My love is strong and pure.
My blood is thick and juicy cherry berry.
But there are frustrated organs. They are not laughing and they are [surely] not crying.
They are long-suffering.
But they were certainly not prepared to be.
It’s okay, self, one day you will break down and give up; you will stop trying to convert pain into energy because it is not a sensible, self-sufficient cycle.
You will learn what life feels like.
You will be vulnerable and transparent, let the bird out of its cage.
Make friends.
You will use your strength to fly …and work a job that rewards fairly for long-suffering.
Work? Work is miserable.
A belly full of glass.
Well, not exactly, bro.

A friend once told me that depression is like a warm blanket.
When you come out from underneath, there is a lot of work to be done.
Air out the room. You know, flap those fully-purposed wings.
Grow back into yourself.
It’s called working together.
I’ll hold the door and you swoop through.
I’ll catch your tears while we mix down a stew.
I’ll hold your hand while I swallow your favorite chemical and crystal,
leave the tender meat for my princess.
Princess warrior.
Post-Traumatic-Princess Warrior on a Flying Horse.