thoughts (167)

Thoughts expelled in attempt to reach ears

TW: Analysis of right wing conceptions of trans identity, which may contain damaging ideas; Debate and Argument; Quite serious possible opinions about free speech; an actual parody of right wing rhetoric that contains homophobia; mention of Paul Joseph Watson's face; references to mental health, alienation and suffering. Bonus: song recommendation at the end!!

"I do not think women's safety should be an afterthought" - this line is genius and basically highlights the quite disturbing reality of the right wing's entire BASE argument (so the very reason they exist as a force that is preventing progressions in human rights). Get this, it would take absolutely no logistical effort to implement things like transgender acknowledging bathrooms, so what is stopping it from happening? You then realise that the entire inexplicable and devastating debate is entirely about the value of human life. Their entire position is an admittance that they think some human identities are just lesser than others. This is ethical crime; they should not be allowed impact people's mental wellbeing like this. The alt-right is entirely constructed by a hatred of the diversity of consciousness and identity. It creates nothing, progresses nothing, suggests nothing, support anything (that isn't built to dismantle and damage, like white supremacy). At what point does free speech reach become unfree when it begins actually damaging people's mental health. Language damages people; this is the simple argument against the alt right. Any debate with an alt-right degenerate should contain only one question: "what is making you want to cause harm to some people's mental health, and why is nobody doing anything about it?"

Also interesting to ponder: what is the reason for them using the desire for free speech as an argument to spread harmful language. We have free speech, but most good people don't ever use it to spread hatred; they use it love and to care for and to fight for. It only bothers the right because their entire rhetoric consists of the parts of free speech we tend not to use because they damage people. Dial back the limits of free speech. Call it as it is: 'if you use language publicly and it causes actual damage to somebody's conscious well-being, then you are overstepping the boundaries of free speech.' That's why trigger warnings are MASSIVELY IMPORTANT THINGS; they are safeguards that identify the kind of language of the piece they are attached to in case it causes somebody mental distress. Never forget the importance of what they are, because our position on the left has built them, so surely we know why we use them. The right reveals that it does not know the purpose of them as safeguards against conscious suffering; they in fact want to actively reject such safeguards because "it's some stupid lefty safe space propaganda clown h*** thing" [!!!!!LGBTQPRIDE!!!!!!BLM!!!!!!!!!ConsciousnessMatters!!!!!!!!!] thing" This opposing argument is built entirely by the desire for the right to harm people, which is wrong, and should be stopped.

Here's a song recommendation: Don Diasco by Xiu Xiu

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Rhythmic Edema

Speakers blare each time I go to speak
Drowned out by droning monologues
over heavy bass
pretending a heartbeat proves a life

Lost in machinery straining
to keep up with the lies
hiding behind strobe lights

Seizures blind muscles
bound by contract
to searing pain that screams
in rock and roll drumbeats

Banging inside the skull
housing hope whipped numb 
in self pity and emptiness
Pretending to smile when nothing 
shines through venta black
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I Gathered Enough Pieces To Believe I Don't Love Yo

I loved the dog-ears of my favorite parts of you
rain washes the caked mud 
off the lies you wore as your perception broke dreams

I was never any good at hide and seek
though the chessboard was always center-stage,
strategies of a game you swore to win
without ever sharing the rules

Rules were meant to be broken
is all I heard in the cloudy hum of shared space
tug of war in saltwater and discarded words

I tore images out of anyone who reminded me
of how beautiful you are
a kaleidoscope in pieces of you I couldn't keep

You bled volumes to the world 
and spat articles through clenched teeth
at my blank pages now stained in your disdain

Running my finger across the memory
of a stone that crashed denial with hope
shaped like the lies you wore as your perception broke dreams

22718
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Unbowdlerized (beware)

Unbowdlerized (beware)

Razor-sharp fingernails scrape layers of flesh from eyelids
Splaying them eternally open
Can't unsee what's been seen
Can't unhear the sounds
Or unsmell the odor that rots in nostrils, infecting every rose
There's no stopping when they all stink the same
Can't undo, can't undo
Safety in bile where nightmares are birthed in reality,
In places that fester like the remnants of the lids that blinded
Bleach doesn't clean untruths
Fire doesn't burn hot enough to mask pain
Blisters seem like hope
Hope to heal
Hope to resemble something familiar
Peeling skin back with teeth
Wishing for them to bleed
When scalding tubfulls try to cleanse
the grime that sludges through a broken mind
Attached to a heart mindlessly lashed in the shame of

Love

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Power of SHE

Power of SHE

Thick skin falls in pieces
To reveal a molten liquid center
A beauty never gazed upon by another
A glow of heat and pain and ...love
Hidden from prying eyes
Kept safe from strangers and "loved ones" alike
Permanent fists grip tightly
As the center boils hot upon its release
And a trickle becomes a flood
In the right hands...

In the right heart
The stiff grip loosens
And new skin, soft and supple
Replaces the old
Stronger than one could have imagined
Sweeter than one could hope
A butterfly against the odds
And a struggle ends in .....love

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Grass and Concrete

Grass and Concrete

A quiet life
A country life
Where the grass sways in the breeze
And the hues of green signify the beginning of balmy nights
A far cry from the city
Gone are the endless vibrant lights
Gone are the 2 a.m. trips across town just because they make the best doughnuts
In this place of air almost too clean to breathe
They stroll
A traffic jam is four cars at a stop sign
Battling rules of the road with polite hat tips of "you go first"
Fast feet and hot dog carts
Italian ices on every corner
Fifty-six blocks to a destination
A world of choices
A billion footprints at a time
Stoplight crowds of sneakers and pantyhose
Everyone is invisible and naked at once
The green haired freak and the business man
The limos and the gypsy cabs
The excitement only felt in a world of possibilities
The difference between pick up trucks and bike messengers
A hundred miles for supplies
Or fifty-six blocks of everything under the sun
Soot filled pores and too much traffic
Street sounds to sleep by and a world of opportunities
Crickets and junebugs
The world closes at eight
Nightlife turns into Wal-Mart and Taco Bell
The slow pace of growing grass
The warmth of a winterless Summer
Wishing for a trip across town at 2 a.m. just because they make the best doughnuts

4/25/15

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in the tunnel at the end of the day

in the tunnel at the end of the day

The dark hole that pours out people
Like a gravity defying waterfall
Had a heartbeat that day
Barely audible on the surface
Fighting rush hour traffic to get in
Where the world was getting out
Lured deeper underground
By the echo of a soul
Walking past the platform
Drawn to the rhythm
Like only those whose minds hear in color can be
It grew louder, defiant
Begging to be heard over the stomping herd of human cattle
Yet, whispering its song through the veins of all who cared to listen
Against the wall
Out of the way, almost unseen
There on a milk crate
With a bucket and a stick
Sat a boy with worn out sneakers
The deep sound of air caught in a drum
The high pitch of a stick on the edge
The melodious rise and fall
Of fingers and palms on the smooth surface
Garbage, an old used five gallon bucket
A twig and broken milk crate
Still, in this tunnel sat a boy
Whose heartbeat echoed in the corridor
The only time I ever gladly missed a train

4/25/15

in the tunnel at the end of the day

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If a Kiss Is Just a Kiss, You're Doing It Wrong

If a Kiss Is Just a Kiss, You're Doing It Wrong

There in the closeness
A hairs breadth away seems a million light-years
The sweetest air fills lungs in hurried breaths
A quickened heartbeat drowns out the world
The mind twists and sways in thoughts that soon become a blur
Melded into emotion, into heat
And time stands still

Drawn like magnets to fill the gap
That electric blue spark lingers behind a gaze
Current runs high
Feeling the blood rushing through the smallest veins
Every cell electrified, every hair on end
The weakening of unwanted defenses
That moment the body and soul acquiesce
And time stands still

In the stroke of a cheek
The almost intangible sensation of gliding on smoke
Rising as the embers burn from within
And each breath fans the flames
Proximity feeds passion
As time stands still

The past, erased methodically, deliberately
For there is only this
This birthing of eternity
This moment when the tentative brushing of lips
Burns into soulful coalescence
This one reality
This moment
When time stands still

If a Kiss Is Just a Kiss, You're Doing It Wrong

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Here's to Hope Uninterrupted

Bad dreams fill the soul with a sadness all too real.
A soul searches through the darkness
A distant beacon beckons
Stretching through shadowed tears
Touching with such earnest longing
Guided peacefully to that place between dreams,
Where emotions leach into reality
That place where "never" does not exist
It is here, where true happiness its bred

Copyright©PrttyBrd 17\11\13
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Scruples

Here lies a lonely heart
And here it was besought
Too acquiescent to question
Too obstinate to acquiesce
Neither foolish, nor naive
The heart endeavors
Tattered in the process
Tentative in its gifts
With but one request
Yet, in its stead
was found thoughtless untruths
Holding fast to words spoken
Despite the fact the truth remains unhidden
Prefer honest consequences to deceit
Regardless how pale in color

Peruse more of my poetry@  http://hellopoetry.com/prttybrd/

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Perfidy

Cracked, depleted and downright broken
Left in the lurch by sweet, sweet lies
Knowing one can't, but must...still
Shadowed thoughts and twisted memories
Alone together and together alone
Days in shades of a bruised ego
Nights in darkened yesterdays
Remembered only in the mind's eye
By letting go, it will cease to exist
Longing to continue where the beauty is laid to rest

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Defenses Eroded

 

Minutes to hours to days to weeks
No one can find what they do not seek
Persist even when the future is bleak
Make better choices
The heart is strong when the spirit is weak
Don't heed the voices

The ones that speak to you alone
That talk you into what you can't condone
They say you have no mind of your own
And the flesh will rule you
And you feel a child, even though you're grown
How the mind can fool you

Feelings overrule the mind
The heart is ever so unkind
With temptation close behind
It's logic or passion
It's a battle you will find
of brutal fashion

Lodged between the moral wrong
More than tragedy in song
Walking where you don't belong
The path's not chosen
Standing still, yet pulled along
Toward a heart Ambrosian

Copyright©PrttyBrd 20\11\13
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Discontent (a haibun)

thoughts of joy infused my dreams.  despite what life had taught me.  once gray, had changed in hue, and somehow, I believed.  perhaps I just wanted to believe.  the possibility enticed me.  the hope that the claims were real.  nothing forced, nothing false. alas, the excitement was short lived.  as with most things, the gray has returned as black.

Trust has been broken
Through neglect, if not through lies
Final lesson learned

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The End

The EndSneaking in from the shadowsIt fills the spaces too small to seeThe heart feels full, masked by joyYet, the mind is subtly, subconsciously awareIt lurks in the backgroundStill, the joy expands like hot airIt lifts the spirit and blinds the soulThen, it begins to surfaceIt remains unnoticed for a time, then ignored for longerIt is nothing new, as it has always been there...in the distanceNow, as it pushes through the perceived joyIt darkens the heart,Choking out pleasure with painAnd joy with sadnessSmoke filled lungs and watery eyesYet, nothing has changed.There is no difference between today and yesterday,There will be no difference between today and tomorrowNothing to doNo one to blameUnable to force the heart to feel what it used toUnable to see the good over all elseThe change weighs heavily on the soulAnd though it is not what is wanted,It is what must be done, ...As it is time.9/7/13
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SoulEater

SoulEaterdesperate for a break in lonelinesslonging to be devouredheart once removedprey versus predatorgentle, lays the Beastslowly fueled by crowds of vacant eyesprimal feasts of fleshno bearing on the soulno pastno futuremomentarily sateda life of pretenseconstructs of reality morph with moodcrushed and renovated by perceptionthe soul eats trusting heartsunable to quench the thirstit spits out bare bonesand goes on its wayliving for the bliss of escapeoblivious to consequences no one else can seeCopyright©PrttyBrd 28/9/13
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Ceci n'est pas une pipe.

File:MagrittePipe.jpgThis is a painting by a Belgian artist René Magritte intitled The Treason of Images. I first saw this in high school, a copy hanging off the wall in our philosophy class. I thought it was nicely painted but had no idea what it said underneath. So I asked a girl in my class who spoke French to translate it for me and she said it read: This is not a pipe.

My first reaction to this at 15 was quite teenager-ish, I thought it was pure nonsense. I saw it as something irrelevant, shallow and pointless. Today when I see 14 and 15 year old teenagers react the same way, at first I feel like "How can they not see it?!" but then I remember back to my first reaction and understand...some things you just can't grasp that early on.

I was very into video games a few years back, especially into the GTA series. Not really because of the violence, I wasn't particularly into that, I was the one driving around as carefully as possible, what interested me was the story line, which, despite the abundance of violence, blood and killings, was there and was interesting. Nothing in it happened without a reason. 

I was playing it and the idea slowly seeped inside of me. In the game everything is set up for you, the individual, the player to explore. Everything is a projection, from the oceans, cities and buildings, down to every "person" in the video game which is supposed to give the impression of a busy city and everyday people. It's all a projection, all a calculated program to push you through its story line which you have to finish. It works like that in every video game, also in almost all of the books.

And this was food for thought. What if this translates into our every day reality, what if we are inside some sort of a program, a projection of things to influence us into a certain direction. The question immediately posses, who is the programmer? Is there something which directs us? Or is it a sort of free simulation, a one in which we all decide our future outcome...  

At first this lead me into a much more extreme direction. I first started contemplating that, maybe only I am real and everyone and everything else is this projection, like the video game. So this would mean, from my point of view, that I am posting a blog for the projections to read it, but from your point of view it would mean that a projection from your own "simulated" world is writing about being a projection for you to realize that you're the only one who is real.

I explored that idea for a while, in a sense still do, but it has changed since then a bit. I don't view myself as the only real thing in the universe anymore (which was an extremely selfish view, looking back at it), but I see everyone as real, the only difference is that we are both...for ourselves we are real, for everyone else we are projections. 

In my head it works sort of like this. When you meet someone, you meet this projection and the same thing is happening vice versa. Real person meeting someone who is also real, but they both see each other as projections. You enter a world of someone else, you can look inside it, you can see it, hear it, smell it and feel it, but you will never fully understand it. Like a glitch in the program, it will never allow you to fully comprehend someone elses reality because it could distort or even shut down your own. Just imagine what could happen if we could completely and fully fall inside someones world, not only view it and observe it, but completely correlate to it...wouldn't our own reality disappear?

Here steps in Magritte's painting back in new light. So the pipe really isn't a pipe. It looks like it, but it's only a 2D projections of the element manufactured in our world. The picture we see might look real, but it isn't. And here comes a dark twist to the whole simulation.

If it truly is that, only a simulation, then there is nothing  wrong for you to kill a certain projection. You won't feel the pain of  the fatal wound, and you can assume from this theory that the projection won't feel it either (just like in the video game). But our own program decided to ensure this wouldn't happen (as often), so it fitted us with a command inside (most) of us that we call empathy. The ability to relate to other "projections" and what they might be feeling, although we can never truly know what that may be or even if they are feeling anything at all! 

We trust our own experiences and we assume what someone else might be feeling in a certain situation. So that keeps us from killing everyone we dislike and prevents us, as a species, to evaporate. Again, imagine the world or our society in which there is no empathy...would we even be here right now? We would probably kill ourselves somewhere early on in our evolution...probably.

In this theory something else intrigued me quite a bit...everyone's experienced coincidences which are hard to dismiss as mere happenstance, which our logical minds find difficult to explain, and we all search from where these coincidences came...some find it in religion, others find magical energies floating in the universe and some say it's as simple as a coincidence,  nothing more than that.

My head was fucked a few times by these strange occurrences and I've always left them as just simple coincidence, I tried rationalizing them but I never managed to write them off. I left them in my sub conscious to float until something reasonable comes along and explains them away. But I also started imagining,...if this world is just a simulation for each individual, how do coincidences fit in?

Like a story-line which you are following, it pushes you back or forward into a certain direction you may or may not like. That brought a question...so, there are stories we follow? We don't have free will?  The "program" decided this was our tale and we must walk on its path no matter what? 

I explain it by the power of our sub conscious brains. We constantly give ourselves goals to achieve, sometimes without us knowing. The sub conscious observes and absorbs everything around us, all the projections... the ones it likes, it puts as a standard for us. So we constantly feel our own reality could be improved and should be, because of what we see around us. We try relating to the projection, to feel more a part of it, to look like another projection, be noninvasive, regular. 

Sometimes the goals are more noble, trying to be a better person, being more giving, but it's never altruistic, it's never really to help other people, other "projections", it's also selfish, also egoistic, because we all know the feeling of giving, helping, it feels great. So it's again by our own reality that we are govern to be good or bad to the simulation around us.

But, of course, none of our goals or wishes prepare us for the bad coincidences. No one wishes to be hit by a bus or to be diagnosed with a disease, but then the question is, how does this fit into the theory? It doesn't, unless...unless the program doesn't work for each individual but for a planet or universe as a whole.

This all sounds very religious or religion based, but I must say I've never studied any of the religious texts, I only know the basics of the major religions and that's it. But if you imagine the universe as a computer program...it constantly changes and evolves, it upgrades on permanent basis. It gets rid of some projections and creates others...Getting rid of the viruses and objects which could destroy its existence and promoting the existence of those who contribute to the upgrade.

But to the matter at hand, we've gone too far off. The idea I had (which I know is not original at all) is that it may all be govern, like a machine, an artificial machine which looks real to us. We see the pipe, we know it is a pipe, but it may be not. Just a simulation, a projection. A visible element for us to grasp and push us in a certain direction.

Do we decide that direction? I believe we do. Here I believe the philosophy of deism, which states that god created the universe but then left it to evolve on its own. We may be put here by a "program", but I believe that it is us and only us who can determine the path on which we walk. If we set our goals and do all we can to achieve them, the coincidences will follow them. Nothing good comes easy, so the bad coincidences will come, but it is us who decide whether we continue on that path or walk away from it.

We may be a part of a program, but we are programs ourselves. The entire universe or "simulation" is also inside of us, too complicated for us to grasp. Here I'll close with a statement by the comedian Bill Hicks: 

“The world is like a ride in an amusement park. And when you choose to go on it you think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it's very brightly colored and it's very loud and it's fun, for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question: "Is this real, or is this just a ride?" And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say, "Hey, don't worry, don't be afraid, ever, because this is just a ride.”

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Traces of You

Traces of You

Traces of you line every moment silver,
     even in my darkest day
Traces of you can make the empty linger,
     the second you walk away

Traces of you are my hidden treasure,
     a joy that is all my own
Traces of you are too fine to measure,
     yet brighten my darkness alone

Traces of you make life worth living,
     the birth of my very smile
Traces of you make ease of forgiving,  
     though memories tend to beguile

Traces of you turn hell into glory,  
     then turn back the other way
Traces of you rewrite the story,
     every second of every day

copyright©PrttyBrd 27/06/2012
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Sun on the Horizon

Sun on the Horizon

by PrttyBrd

In the gray hours of pending dawn,
time seems endless
Dreams meld into reality, as true desires
breathe their first breath of life
In that space, with no consequences, lies the answer
The answer to every unasked question
The answer to every possibility
Fear has yet to be awakened before the day is touched by the creeping morning sun,
whose light bears the weight of the death of dreams
The sun that brings with it the doubt that plagues humanity
For in the predawn silence, true happiness resides
Nay, thrives in the hearts and minds of all
With childlike exuberance, belief in the improbable is clutched to the breast,
as the last vestiges of slumber melt it from the tightest grasp
Yet, with this glowing hellstar, begins a brand new day
And with each new day comes a chance to snag the tiniest piece of perfection along for the ride

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"Keep it"

 

 

The Sleep Thief has come again in the night to snatch away my dreams.

He hands me the watch and says "Here, keep it" I give it back to

Him saying in reply " Sorry, I don't believe in Time.

Only the distance between the dimentions of space and sound"...

As usual He laughs at me and dissapears into the dark.

 

Once He's gone I close my eyes and project

myself outside my body into those other dimensions--

the dimensions where I am not limitted by my body.

And then it's me who is laughing, but not at him, not at anybody

but myself.

 

If I keep it, it's gone...

If I let it go it always comes back.

 

My dreams travel faster than the speed of light.

He can tell me the times ticking, but

He can never catch me in my sleep.

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