Friday, January 25, 2013

Mental Rotation

One day…inside my head.

You pick the day…
Here’s the rotation…

What do you want from me?
A piece of my mind, like my words.
Or if I fell asleep, would you actually take from me?

His name is Adam.
And these are some things I know about him.

He wanted to give up at times…
He closed his eye often. He told a story in his sleep. To anyone that would listen. He felt weak at times. Like he wasn’t good enough. But what he didn’t know… Was each of those moments…were contributions to the building of a man…He would come to be proud of one day.  And so he waits, patiently…for that day.

Dreams aren’t just hopes, wishes, and desires…
They’re little pieces of could be history, and it’s your job to make them come true. Foundations of pride, build and brought to life… in your life.

I don’t know if tomorrow is coming…
Well.. I know it is, I just don’t know if I’ll be here. That thought alone, makes me want to write, all day, all night, nonstop, just in case. I wonder about the day I die…

How many unspoken words will be trapped inside me…
How many lines, and rhymes, and moments I’ll bury. How many people, will miss the things that I say. Maybe none, maybe some, maybe one, maybe many. I have but one dream…one large dream. And it’s to leave my name on your heart. My words on your mind. And I won’t die till I find a way.

To hold my mother’s hand, and hug my father…
To tell my father he’s my hero, second to my mother. To tell my two sisters how much I love them, every day that I was gone from their life. Gone from reality, sinking in the misery I created, compounding from each previous day. I am not always good at this thing we call life. I question whether I’m living, or if I’m just alive.

But before I die, there are some thinks I want….
To stand atop the space needle in Seattle Washington, and remember the things that slipped away from me. To stand in the soy fields of South Dakota, and breathe in the infinite memories. To find the man I stole from as a child, and grand him his every dream. To write a letter, to everyone along the way, that I made fun of growing up, that was horribly wrong of me.

I wish to spread knowledge to this new generation…
And shed a tear for every soldier, and civilian lost in war. I wish to spread wildflowers on the battlefields of bloodshed, and watch new life rise from the ashes of our disturbing past. I wish to turn ignorance to knowledge, and oppression to freedom. I wish to feed food, and fuel dreams, to every open mind.

I wish to grand education to every human…
And I wish to share love to every opposition. I wish these were not wishes on paper. I wish I had the power to make them promises. I wish my promises rendered opportunities, and I wish these opportunities… became recorded moments in history. And I wish my enemies, truly knew me. Sometimes I wonder, how many enemies I have, but I wonder more, how many friends, my enemies have.

Sometimes the real world blinds me…
And closing my eyes is the only clarity. Vision blurred by buried dreams, moments of magic, lost in the city subway. This is our earth. Our world. Our dream. United by different Gods, but similar dreams. I believe in my God, Jesus Christ… But I can overcome ignorance, to believe in you, as a human being. I can hold hands from different lands. Skin colors that differ in pigment from mine, but all hearts are red inside.

I sit alone, in my room, in my bed…
Typing about my life filled with made up pain. But some people wake to enemy grenades. Some people wake to heaven… Some people wake to visions of hell. Some people never wake up throughout life at all. We relate our pain to what’s relative in our life. Never comparing it to what’s going on in the real world.

America, the land of opportunity…
The land of spoil, and dissolving integrity. The values we fought so hard to protect, we’re letting go of our future one child at a time. Kids no longer aspire to be astronauts or doctors. They wish to be stars on reality TV. They wish to be rich and famous, rather than worthy and noble. They wish to be takers, rather than teachers. And parents, caught in their own drama, have forgotten what it means to raise children.

Our kids aren’t being raised worse…
They’re being raised less…They’re being put on the back burner…To parents personal desires and dreams. No longer families, they act more like roommates. I watch the foundation of our country… shift on its own axis. As a parent, you have one chance… to raise each child the right way… To guide and teach them…

What was once the admirable American way…
Now mocked beyond the borders of our own country, our image is indulgence, ignorance, and selfish desire. Our future is being placed in the hands of foreign governments. Debt finally surpassing dreams in this once fruitful land. Desolate resolutions, broken dreams, pavement turned to dirt roads, with more curves, and less straight a ways.

It’s idle minds that carry the most shame…
For they are the ones that have noticed… And the ones that have stood with silent voices.
Silent motions, numb emotions, unnoticed notions, when you turn your back, bacteria multiplies. Germs grow at an alarming rate, if you don’t segregate, the problem from the population, and terminate.

I need help…
I need your help.  I need your mind. Your ideas, your dedication, and your eyes. I need you to notice, these opportunities…. Are passing us by. Time, is the one thing that will NEVER be given back. These are moments we can use our voice… To make a difference. This IS our time.

Sometimes I want to be a psychiatrist…
To understand the human mind. To help and to heal, the hurting minds. Sometimes I want to be a lawyer. To defend and protect the constitution of America. Sometimes I want to run for office. To combine the voices of millions… Into the practices of my every day. Sometimes I want to watch, but often I want to lead. Battles of battalion’s on the capitol steps of this country. Standing in two shoes, representing the ideals of millions. I want change, a country ran by the commoners, not the contingency of wealthy lobbyists and corporations.

I don’t understand how a company can relocate overseas…
And lobby for law opportunities or restrictions in this country. I don’t understand a lot of things. But I’ll always put my foot down, to the people that step in front of me. I am an American. Bred by immigrants that once migrated to this country, before fighting for this country, so that we could live in a sovereign country, FREE of oppression and slavery.

I am already a humanitarian…
That’s been holding the wrong hands. Been loving minds, that don’t love back. Been giving, to people that need nothing. Been investing, in minds that want nothing. Nothing from me, but something for free.

We live in a country, where tanks don’t occupy our streets...
And we take this freedom for granted every day. We protest soldiers returning home from war, we protest at funerals of soldiers that fought for your ignorance.

I don’t always organize my thoughts well…
I scribble this shit on kitchen cupboards and couch cushions or whatever I can reach, from  where I sit. My mind rotates simple to complex, like airplanes to paper mache. They say writers skip generations, maybe my grandpa Pifer gave this gift to me. Inspiration in the paper tablets he wrote on, that are better than treasure to me.

I see stars when I look up…
Mixed with dark, and white shooting lies. Dreams that deserted and devastated me. But once were my security, And the driving force behind me. My mind…checked out by you, while checked into outer space by me.

Drug free for thirty two years…
Except for two times when I was nineteen, that Shawn smoked marijuana with me. And the memory of my parent’s hard work, was the reminder to me, that my life was a promise of opportunity, not a drug addiction that would fail me.

I am Adam. This is the story of my life…
Transactions broken down to individual memories, mixed with dreams, of who I still could be. I am built from many, and that’s what creates me. Stubborn, like my father, impatient at times, gentle like my Nana, love that will never run out, inspired the most, by the steady love of my mother.

Failure, if I was graded in life...
But I cannot ponder on yesterday. My focus is impervious. My heart is committed. My dream is not of fixing yesterday, but of connecting tomorrow. To my heart, my mind,
and mixing it with my love and my time.

I look like simplicity…
But its complexity that defines me, I talk with firm affirmation, but its humility that drives me. I have strengths, and I have weaknesses, I have strong days, and I have insecure days. I have royal days, and I have human days. I have loud days, and I have quiet days. But I will always have LOVE to pass out on every day.

I have admiration for soldiers…
And I have emotion for the elderly, I think parents are our first teachers. And children are our greatest joy. When a girl makes my heart flutter, my first instinct is to kiss her. My second is to hold her hand. And my third is to tell her how beautiful she is… to me, and the whole world.

I don’t always get it right...
I make mistakes. I say stupid things. But I come equipped with a heart that’s never stopped believing in me.  Eyes, that look past outside flaws in the people around me. It’s what you offer from the inside, that makes you feel alive. My hand is always open, except for the clenched fist that fights for equality.  I will not judge a man that loves another man, or a woman that loves another woman, but rather I will love these people when they stand next to me. My contribution to society is fixing me first, then opening my arms to those that need me. And if we all make small changes for the better, we can in turn, teach the person next in line. I’m not saying our work is easy, but nothing of value, comes for free.

Love me today…
Remember me tomorrow.  Let the memories you shared with me shine forever. Let the lessons of love guide your heart, and the pain of loss humble your mind. Let your ears listen through the years, and your eyes compromise when you can’t live without someone you love. Let your hands remain open, and only close when they squeeze the hand of someone you help or love. Fear not, losing someone, or you will never fully love them. You will sabotage the moment with fear of one day living without them. Give, give, give…and when you feel you have nothing left…find a way to give.

Cheers, Adam
 

2 comments:

  1. Two things about this piece really touched me. "I question whether I’m living, or if I’m just alive." I feel that way so much of the time and I will continue to strive to spend more time living and less just beling alive. The other... "How many unspoken words will be trapped inside me…" I'm a firm believer in "say what you need to say" but so frequently we deny others that opportunity, either by telling them not to speak to us anymore and/or deleting their access to us. And I've found that when that ability is taken away, the words swarm up in my head, filling it too full to be open to new thoughts and ideas. My prayer for you is that no words remain trapped and that every word in that magnificent mind of yours is shared for the whole world to read. Thank you, Adam, for allowing us inside.

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  2. 1) thank you for reading. 2) thank you for your comment. 3) yes, i am guilty of doing some of those things, deleting people, asking them to not contact me anymore, everybody handles heartbreak differently. i suppose the times i have done that, i have not felt it was ideal, but i HAVE felt it was necessary. people come into our lives, but arent necessarily meant to stay there. i guess this x factor, builds the anticipation, for the day i get to wake up and kiss the same lady. every. single. day. for the rest of my life. i appreciate your prayer. and while sometimes my words encompass a man with wildly fluctuating emotion, i live my life with the right amount of control, mentally. i am a grounded person. i use words to express feelings, and release stress. its just something i have found over the years to work for me. i hope as time goes on, i can become more confident in my words and express even more, without fear of judgement. i dont expenct everyone to connect with with i say, or to even like it. but everytime i share...i KNOW there is at least ONE person out there, SOMEWHERE, that will read my words and know that they felt EXACTLY like that at one point on their life. that connection, something i'll never even hear about, is the reason i write. a phschological connection, with someone in the crowd, that will never step up and tell me, will never contact me, and will never reveal their identity to me, yet my words bridged a gap from two hearts possibly a million miles away. Again, thanks for reading. i cant promise interesting posts, EVERY time, but i can promise you i wont stop, or give up. these words WILL flow.....

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