Poem things, Rants and Thoughts


I see that everyone has problems,

That’s not the problem, see,

How am I supposed to feel sympathetically,

When I’m involved with a blinding,

Overwhelming consistency,

Of underwhelming contingencies.

Oh it’s easy, “get therapy”,

As if paying for help is worth more than a friend who will listen for free.

Who the hell wants to listen to me,

Everyone has problems,

That’s not the problem, see,

I try to imagine my mind living happily,

But it’s just stays still in progression,

And runs wild through regressions.

So what’s the point in another session,

If I will have nothing to mention.

Everyone has problems,

That’s not the problem, see,

I can’t make every conversation about me,

Everyone has an issue to share,

Or a memory to bear,

And in those moments we truly can care.

Yet it’s the time spent alone,

That makes life feel completely unfair.

If only we had a way to feel a little less scared.

SF – written on Dec. 18th, 2018 @ 4:30 p.m.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

6 feet deep

I watched my sister mourn an ex that over dosed,
My father cry when his own mother croaked,
Watched my mother too when her father died after loosing the woman that he loved the most,
I also lost a sister to epilepsy, that shit is fucked up,
She’s was all alone, found naked in her bath tub.
Before all that I lost an uncle that would change my mom forever,
Loosing her brother first when she thought she’d never,
Ever have to spread his ashes farther than his love had casted.
I’m just reacting to the retracting of my memories.
So many memories of all of those who were meant to be,
Alive right now even though there are no remedies,
For the pain of loss and death that has forsaken me.
Just let me replace the bodies that were taken all too soon,
Let me be the face up in that bright old moon.
Looking down upon all of those who have been hurting too.
Those thinking about the ones they’ve lost,
Thinking about the memories you’ve tried to toss,
While search for a simple way to smile,
Maybe if we fake it our cheeks might hold up a while,
Get us down that god damn road another meaningless mile.
While acting wild and riled up to take a crack at happiness,
But if we’re redirecting our minds away from
death and sadness,
Id rather slip and fall into a pit of madness,
Loose my faith in life and love,
Like a dirty rotten mattress,
With a mistress that’s been laughed at.
All these deaths are haunting me,
As I think it should be me,
6 feet underneath the dirt below my knees.

SF – written on December 17th, 2018 @ 10 a.m.

Rants and Thoughts

So I dropped some Acid

About and hour in…

“It is wild,
Multitudes of visuals,
Interrupting thought patterns,
Cycle recognition,
Slight bits of paranoia,
But it eases away quickly,
Ease of distraction,
But also have the ability to distinguish…
…reality? So to speak, but at this moment I believe that means to be on time. Even with thoughts,
Whether consciously thought of or not.
Deep distractions(best way to put it)
Definitely wanna move a lot,
Going over shames,
Sudden sadnesses,
But they come and go like all waves of energy,
It is simply put,
Time and time again,
We do things to ourselves that we wouldn’t let most others do to themselves.
Thought about putting music on,
Realized how deep music can get and couldn’t find some with too much meaning in it.
Maybe just got distracted by thoughts.
I would say this is good shit…flat out.
Sitting up repetitively to find comfort physically,
As if need a pleasurable sound would help.
Still can’t seem to find the right music.
Enjoying flowing in and out of this note,
As if being in thought and typing are happening at once,
But they aren’t.
Like everyone else,
While trying my best not to be stereotypical,
I still find myself feeling very stereotypical.
Running my mind in circles,
About things lm not even thinking anymore.
Really good stuff,
Once again.
What makes for comfort?
Stepped out side,
Became more thankful,
Less internalized immediately.
Started feeling refreshed and calm,
While cold and collective.
Going into every thought with depth or not
I keep revisiting my beer,
As if it’ll help me near the end of something I’ve already started.
Fucked up, as in, very affected at the moment…

Thankful for being able to be alone with myself,
I realize now that most people don’t like that,
I feel for them.
It takes guts I suppose.
Life makes it so easy to get lost in such little things,
While simoultaniously not being able to spell (hah)
, being able to stay on track with the bigger things,
Like that,
Those last two lines took incredibly long to format.
Reminded currently of strong visuals.
Feeling good about relaying recognition.
Revising the idea of introducing music into these moments,
Change “these moments” from i don’t remember.
The weather has been steady,
So that’s calming sort of,
Gunna step outside again,
Go outside in confusion,
Found clarity and more jitters,
Opened the door and was blessed by a critter,
It was a frog,
A baby one,
Very weird to think he’d rather be in here,
Than out there,
Maybe that’s why we all trying to make things…
Wrong words.
Revisiting beer.
It has been about 2 hours,(3:00 a.m)
I just get so distracted by so many things,
Waaaaves of emotions,
Felt like the last 20 minutes happened in about 10 seconds,
Either way,
The total thing has been around 2-3 hours in at this point.
This doesn’t paint a clear portrait as reality has many more layers than I can easily describe in real time trough thought to text translation.
Having global thoughts,
Witch are misleading in my description of what’s happening.
No easy way to describe it all though.
Feel very happy with it,
Was so warm so to speak,
That’s gentle,
That could be my wood stove heating up (hah)
Is this for me,
Or will I be reading to someone,
Will that be changing it’s corse,
Or should it not.
So many questions,
Can easy cause spirals.
Can be avoided with simple open eyes.

What an interesting way to convert and convey the complexity of what’s seemingly happening in my perceptual conception of my current situational reality.


Revisits beer almost systematically,
Can’t tell if things are wearing off or not,
Could be from splitting it up the way I did.
Have been very aware of family,
But don’t know how to address,
I’ll avoid.
Thought of just recording myself speaking the thoughts out loud,
But no,
Cant tell if certain introspections are myself or the drugs.
Very confusing,
But fun to combat with,
Or co-experience so to speak.
I can see how this would be unsettling for others,
The experience,
The lack of control we really do have on our minds,
Why is it that spiraling certain bits of vocabulary,
Gives me such satisfaction,
Alike the same as shameful,
Still very lovely,
Not lonely,
Get that right,
But still very,
Jittery so to speak,
My mind really is allll over the place,
Hard to keep track of,
But fun to run around with as well.
Laying down repetitively when my back is in discomfort,
I know I’m bad to it,
My back that is,
So I mustn’t complain,
Once again laughing at needing a sense of purpose for even simple thoughts or actions.
Been a few hours and I’m very impressed with even a split dosing of 1 between an hours time.
Strongly debating cutting hair and cleaning up,
Don’t know,
But this has even been happening mentally outside of recreational drug usage mind time(?)
Should I stay up for the sunrise or use sleep to reset?
There’s that spinal discomfort again(from bad posture)
Very jittery still,
I can rewrite my own definitions of things to help my own mind conform to subjective momentary situations.
Just visually in my mind,
Laughing at the fact that I can’t keep track of thoughts,
If I was recording this, it would either be really sad or weird,
Not sure yet,
Maybe neither,
All I’ve been doing is pacing,
Laying down,
Having thoughts,
Feeling things,
See what I mean.

Distracted (haha)

But either way, not much entertainment to be recorded visually is all,
Most of the experience is mental and personal.

Gotta pee.

What is it from this that I crave,
Every time it’s good,
It’s like this,
But seemingly everlasting,
Then different,
Every other moment.
Not peeing,
But experiencing.

It sounds exhausting to maintain a personah.

Deep thoughts
Deep thoughts.

Lays back down and laughs,
Because this is all so ridiculous.

Mind is all over the place,
I’m good spaces though,
Even when thinking of the things I personally feel would cause others darkness,
I see the light in those very sad moments.
There needs to be light in those moment.

30 minutes later and I feel as though it hasn’t slowed down.
I may be in more control at this point.
Of my mind that is.

Really enjoying the totality of it all,
The fact that I’m sitting back and laughing at bits of myself,
Rather than criticizing them,
Is very,
Feels…ear opening…the fan just seemed louder for a second.
Have had all sorts of auditory…complications so to speak since taking the active chemicals.

I laugh at my own narcissism,
Simply because someone else would have focused on the frog and bettles from earlier,
Instead of turning internal and investigating the mind, in place of an organic relationship with a different life form…literally.


Our personal problems go deep.
But only as deep as we let them.

Laugh at having become more of a character than a person.
In ways.

Every time I put the phone down,
Stop describing for a second,
My mind relaxes,
Then goes wild,
Then comes back to phone for validation,

4:04 am,
The fucking roosters are crowing.
Still into this though,
But I would like to think it’s wearing off.

4:08 am,
Definitely just saw something very particular float in an unorthodoxy way through the air from the tip of my finger into my bowl piece.

Revisiting music again,
Still have gotten nowhere,
Thoughts are too distracting.

Noticed a fractal pattern,
Drinks beer,
Had thoughts,
Rambles in mind,
Comes to unhelping conclusion on pent up energy from having to pee,
Goes pee,
Turns around relieved,
Just like every time before hand.

But so much goes on in the mind,
Between those times.

Recycling beers because I can’t feel it,
Bad idea.
Still going through with it.

At the end of the day I was gunna talk about symmetry’s day then another frog jumped into my vision….
So fucking cute.

Definitely the same one as before,
How he got where he is,
I have no clue without having one,
Either been stepped on,
Or two,
Been caught by eyes before hand and recognized as way more important than my current thoughts and written down to validate.

He jumped.

So many bugs,
So dirty,
Must not pay attention to such finer details,
Enjoy the more prominent ones.

I have had 7 beers,
There are 7 on the shelf,
If I drink one more,
Then they’ll all be evened out.

Realizing how small I really think,
Self centered I can be,
It’s damaging,
If not to me,
But to the opportunities that could happen.

By limiting myself from expansion and experience,
I limit those that I love, from the same.
Is that internally selfish or selfless?
I’m lost between understanding.

At the moment.

4:39 am,

Still feeling effects,
But enjoying every complicated section of it.

Everything is so systematic.

Or can be,
If we let it become so.

4:52 am, just re-read this whole thing and couldn’t help but laugh and relate.

Which make sense.
Because it’s me,
Reading to me,
At this point,
So hi,
It was a good time,
You’ll remember that later.

4:54 I see the poor side of thinking I need to validate every thought and experience by displaying them here to revisit.

I’ll go on.
Must still be under effects.
Can’t begin to explain how wonderful this batch is.
Very amazing stuff,
In my opinion,
Which to this point,
Is now set,
I know the difference.

As far as I know,
This is indistinguishable,
Fuck English,
Took me forever to spell and say that out loud.
From the rest.

Then again,

Everyone’s experience,
Is different from the last,
Even when revisiting,
Moments from the past.

I have no major influence,
At least to me,
I don’t yet.

I have family,
But that is different than public reach.

When your opinions are back by the faces you no longer see.
That’s validation in America.
To me…
At the moment…

Time stamps become important in the relativity to consistency of thoughts.
We all know how this change so sudden.

Wrote that last part at 5:07
It’s now 5:08 and I’m not sure why any of this was relevant to…anything.

Things seem a little less intense, for sure, at this point.
But definitely still in effect.

Love all my friends,
So many beautiful people and individuals that I take for granted like we take our manors.

Don’t exactly know what that means but I’ll leave it for later.

Mind and body.
Feel like a whirlwind.
5:22 am.

As in,
I unsettle the peace and organization in my surroundings with chaos and dissolution.


I’d make a terrible sibling,
And a worse friend.
Can’t even imagine the immense-damage a narcissist-like me does to someone I speak to love but fear to show affection for.

I’m sorry to my past lovers,
For all my disrespect.

That little section of like 20 minutes,
Was a whole little deal I cant explain into its own little self if a moment worth noting.

So there’s that.

Well here’s this.
5:31. First time on the other couch.
Big deal.
Enjoyed the potential of it.
For the dosage and the way I timed it.
Was super intense,
But controllable,
Yet irrational and erratic.
At times I was there,
Deep in introspective-thoughts,
Then bam,
Self realization and overwhelming humbleness,
Then bam,
Reality and layers of expectations.
But slow down to calmness within interventions.
5:36 am.

5:40(preemptively at 5:37)
Over to the original couch.

I didn’t wait for 5:40.
Found that Vuse I never mentioned before.

‪I have ruined so many things in pursuit of feelings that no one should have to endure.‬

This hasn’t gone dark,
Just sympathetic for the pain I feel in connection to the pain I’ve caused.

Thankful for it all and the recognition of its complexities.”

SF- 10-3-18

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts


This is to all you privileged,

Self righteous faceless fuckers,

Never have known seldomness,

Never have had a helpless mother.

Or an unsuccessful father,

From a family that’s a bother,

Without money for our problems.

We never had a way to stop them,

Payments after payments,

Do you know what day to day is?

They all say “I’m so alone”,

Yet you sit and stare straight at your phones,

Full of people that you chose,

Nah, you don’t even fucking know,

I bet they’ve never been this low.

Take a look at all my limbs,

All you’ll see are scars and broken bones.

From where I have had to go,

The limits of my patience,

And all the damage I now know.

You don’t wanna know what’s it’s like,

To have to re erase your soul,

Over and over again,

Changing faces as you go,

Never knowing who you’ve been,

Who you should be,

Or if you’ll ever have some kin.

Always feeling unimportant,

And as if you’ll never quite fit in.

If only I could find my ending,

But that’s simply where it will all begin.

Now I hear everyone may be feeling insane,

Still they all know growth and gains,

Never felt full of real sick shame,

Still it’s my kind of people who get the blame,

We may all have a heritage,

But some of us have no names.

No fortune and no fame,

Less opportunistic change,

More redirected rage,

Our society is nothing more than a corporately constructed cage.

Built on laws and governments that are simply meant to take,

All its citizens hopes and dreams,

Monetary values and everything in between.

I bet all of you have had some help,

Probably never really hurt,

Never screamed and never yelled,

For more than materials or your wealth,

Always had a sense of love,

From any one of the beings up above,

Yeah, they’ve never had it rough.

Always had just enough.

What happens when hope takes off its gloves,

Smacks you right across your face,

And asks, “how’s it feel to forget love, never have anything to dream of?”

Have you ever actually been homeless,

Or hopeless,

Remotely contained,

Or throat less,

Had no voice to portray,

Or not felt,

But actually been worthless?

I was told life is game,

That makes me feel lifeless.

As if it’s something to be tamed,

What a joke,

It’s meant for those rich,

And those famed.

So when you sit there,

Do nothing but assume,

As if you could even have a clue,

Don’t begin to think you will understand,

Any of the feelings that I’ve been through,

Or what I have had to do.

Everybody’s life is little different,

And I wish that mine would just end soon.

Take me out of the gutters that I’ve construed.

Away from the problems that I’ve been glued to,

And all the situations that I can’t seem to get through,

Unlike the drugs and alcohol that I so habitually find ways to consume,

As if they can settle my symptoms,

And make my mind feel new,

As if I can drunkenly just pick and choose,

Motivations and places to not be riddled the fool,

This life it just gets to me,

So now I’ll enter the rope.

SF – written between August 10th and September 4th, 2018

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

What’s New


What’s new?

You’re choosing to walk away?

Oh, cool.

You get to do that to me again?

Cause I’m the fool?

With nothing to loose?

Well then fuck it,

Were through.

What’s it gunna be this time huh,

Another six months,

For nothing to get done?

Is the when you’ll have had enough,

Of the distance you developed between us?

Is that when you’ll wanna take another chunk of what little bit of love I even have left?

Now I’m loosing my damn breathe.

Now I’m questioning all of the things that I do,

Why I give up my time to be there for you,

Sit in silence so somber just thinking life through,

Wondering why the hell you always give up so soon.

And what the hell is the meaning of truth,

When all that you say,

Has more meanings than two.

SF. – written on August 8th, 2018.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Do or Die

What do we do,

When we recognize our failures,

Sink into the un true,

And see all of our stale years?

People say to persevere,

Overcome the problems,

That’s all I ever hear,

Yet still find no way to stop them.

Bad habits and reputations,

Digging holes and feeling useless,

Can become a situation,

Even if you never choose it.

What do we do,

When we become what we shouldn’t,

Forget so much too,

And recognize what we couldn’t?

Do we pick ourselves back up,

Follow through with all our dreams,

What happens when things get tough,

And depression is bursting out your seams?

I don’t know about you,

I can only speak for I,

But when it’s pain that you’ve been through,

Life becomes do or die.

NV. – written on 8-11-18

Rants and Thoughts

Some Context

We all have parents or at least a “parental figure” in our lives. Some of us know ours well, others I’m sure never met theirs. There are those who have lived with them a majority of their lives and still have only the superficial understandings of who their parents might be. It’s all part of this wonderful thing we call life, knowing, not knowing, understand, confusion. We as humans live for this to some extents, with many other distractions and things to enjoy as well of course. Personally, my parents were together, not always happy, but tried their best (as far as I know) to be the parents they wanted to be for my siblings and I. We ran into problems, disruptions and so on, like any family. Where we differ to some and fall into similarities with others may be in some of their…choices, actions and ways of living so to speak.

My mother has brought six children through the light and onto planet Earth, a pair of children with three different men. Most of my mothers children weren’t born in hospitals, she had a sister or two of mine in bathtubs, but she gave birth to most in the comfort of her own homes. The way she wanted to, natural and with an in home specialist of her choosing. My father had two children, my closest sister by age and myself, with my mother. He also had a pair of children with another woman. So in total, my immediate family started with seven sisters, myself and my parents. There have been a few additions and a loss here and there in the twenty four years since I have been part of this family as well. The loss was of one of the sisters in our family, Lacie, she passed away earlier this year(2018) from an epileptic seizure. She had been batting with epilepsy for most of her life, the worst of it coming the year before her death, it hurts to say it because she loved her two children with all her heart, but she is in a better place now. She can be with her children everyday now. As for the next generation, In total, currently I’m blessed with three blooded nephews, six blooded nieces, and a nephew by marriage, who were all born in hospitals. Now that we have all that information, onto the story.

On the note of my mothers unconventional birthing situations; she so graciously gave birth to me in comfort of the house I would later grow up in, live in after my parents moved to a new house, then wake up in during a fire that became a total loss. With that said, coming from a family of eight siblings, I was the youngest of them all. Born in 1994 myself, with an average of a two to three years between us all. My parents didn’t always have custody of all their daughters so during childhood I mainly lived with three of my closest sisters, with the older ones coming to stay at times or being seen at family events and such. The earlier years of my life and my siblings were spent fairly normal for lower-middle class Americans, we played outside, went to family Holiday gatherings, and every so often traveled to somewhere neat when expenses were in order. We had a pool, not the greatest house, but one my father had built by hand over the years and was very proud of, about 5 acres of land to explore with a lot of state land surrounding the area. The setting was never and will never be anything to complain about, it will actually come up later on.

On the darker side of things, my parents were quite…rough at times. With my mother being from the hippie tribe and my father from the biker/mechanic tribe, there was conflicts here and there for reasons I may never know, but they happened. They also were huge party people, I don’t have enough appendages on my body to count all the times the 10ft bonfire pit in our front yard was surrounded by a countless numbers of rowdy, drunken, middle aged middle class Americans looking to forget for a night that this world is fucked up in ways. Maybe it was the place to let loose and have a good time, there are a lot of characters from those times that are still around this day, it’s nice to have history and a childhood with history that carries into the present, to some extent. As a child of that environment though, hearing my parents beat each other up, tear up the house, storm off and drive away, most while being intoxicated, it has an effect to who you grow up to be.

This place, this property’s history with me, having been literally born in the house my family lived in for the first 18 years of my life and would later see burn down here. Having experienced summers with relatives staying here, parties all the time, it seemed to be a place that people could come escape into themselves for a while. Forgetting the external and unconditional, maybe this is a product of my own perception, everyone else has history elsewhere for the most part. But all these things and more, have always brought me back in times of contemplation or confusion, brought me comfort when life had no reason or meaning, gave me a place to feel like I can exist without the effect of the greater world at hand and without judgment or ignorance. I have always felt like the only one really bound or tied to the eternity of the ground here, maybe it’s the birthplace connection that I can’t break free from or that when connected to our places of birth in life, our souls truly have a place of freedom or grounding. I’m searching for answers as much as I’m looking for serendipity in these explanations.

Noting on the house fire, which happened in 2013, before that I had never lived anywhere else. I had stayed with my partner at times of disagreements with my father or mother. But that was home and more up until then, when it became my own place, after my parents moved, I felt like I could extend the experience of serenity to others. Give opportunity for people to forget who they thought they had to be, exist for the moment and not for the future. That happened for a while, but became a problem and needed to end anyway. After the fire I left this property for the first time, now I had traveled to Florida as a kid and New York as a 6th grader. It wasn’t as if I had never left, just had never lived elsewhere. When the settlement came from the fire, I traveled out of state to live with a sister, that lasted 17 days and I was back. Lived with a friend and then again with my partner for a while, but whenever things became stressful or I needed a place to sleep in my car, I would come back to my fathers property, back to where my first home was. It always felt welcoming and as if time stood still here, the earth changed with time, but the feeling it presented was always there.

As I bounced around the west side of my home state for a year or two, lived with a couple other friends, it was relevant that there was something about home, something about that property that was bringing me closer. The farther I traveled the less of myself I get present. I started to see traits of people I’d spend time with become part of myself, tendencies transfer to my being. It was as if, by stretching farther from my home ground, I was stretching farther from my soul, leaving behind who I was to try and be things I am not. Maybe that is part of human experience, maybe it is something we are supposed to do or people like to do. I’m not one to understand the elements to everyone’s experience and perception, but for myself, I was being pulled towards my home every time I moved to get closer to my core being and farther from the existentialism I was finding away from it.

Snap to about a year and a half ago, I was evicted from the residence I was living at. Honestly for reasons I am still unaware of, I paid rent, sometimes a day or two late, I was always social, during hard and unfortunate times I resorted to the confines of my room, this is true, but I didn’t feel as though I was of the “needed to be evicted” category, but that is neither here nor there. The past is there for a reason and we can look to it for answers if we please I suppose. That’s not what I am going for. A bit before the eviction I had spent some time at my old home, the property, stay a few nights there in the hunting cabin that was previously my fathers motorcycle storage and barn. I had felt some sort of peace for the first time and had thoughts of what it would be like to live out there again, rough it so to speak. Well that thought right there, would become the clearest example of “be careful what you wish for” in my experience.

Pending the eviction I didn’t have money saved, didn’t have a place to go or anywhere to crash. But I knew there was a cabin my dad used for hunting on the old property, this became my new home. Consisting of my tv, couch and coffee table, a wood stove, a mini fridge, two handmade wall hung beds and a little propane stove, I was roughing it you could say. There is cold water on the outside of the place, no shower and an outhouse about…100-150 yards away from the shelter. Oh, and a river exactly a half mile to the west, follow a trail or two and you are there, it’s nice, there’s a camping spot as well back there. Aside from all that, my father had a chicken coop and that was it. At first it was stressful, irritatingly full of spiders and bugs, mice and shrews. It was very hard to adjust, even though I had wish for this at the time. Nevertheless, when you see your life become something you never imagined, always see you home become something you never imagined, there is a bit of internal conflict that is dealt with and sometimes never taken care of.

When that conflict would resolve, peace would enter the mind, I could remember where I was. Home. The property. Where my life began, it didn’t matter if I was in a cabin, it didn’t matter if I was living this way. I was at peace. Simplicity can really teach you how easy and carefree life can be when you leave behind certain conveniences. It was a situation I knew other people were experiencing and were striving to experience, living a simpler life in a tiny house. Knowing that helped me through a lot of anxiety and depression, the first winter was hard, cold and a very new experience. But it was knowing that other people had done this in worse conditions and that I was at home, if anything happened to me, I would rest where I began. All of that made it possible to get through the isolation and loneliness that followed living here. I had company, for sure, but for me, I felt isolated from a lot of what people were experiencing in the world outside of my situation.

Aside from the contents of my experience living back on the property I had tried to get away from, there lies the understandings I have gained. This property is more than a safe haven for my core being to reside at when avoiding the responsibilities of society, it is more than my homestead and the place where most of my family grew up or spent time. It’s more than just a little chunk of property. It’s a home, a zen garden, a place to escape, a place to relax, a cemetery now for my beloved sister and a place for my dad to come back to as well. But more than that, for myself, it has been a place to contemplate my existence, think about the past and what I want my future to look like. It became a burial ground for the parts of myself that are no longer needed, a birthplace for internal resolutions and spiritual findings. It’s life, for me, but also death to all the things I could be and won’t be.

I say, could be, in context to another dark side of all of this. Attachment and entitlement. Although I can distort reality around me to find peace and these serendipities in my experiences and understandings. There lies a black truth to it all, I am here to run away from my problems, if I wasn’t so tied to my roots, my birthplace, if this wasn’t here I would be forced to face life first hand. Not with the comfort of a rent free, simple tiny home life style that is easy to manipulate and convolute into bliss. I am not saying I am not happy here, on my property, but I see an underlying factor that has recently been pushing me to make changes. I am attached to this place, so much so that it inhibits my ability to grow as an individual, in great ways. Small patents of growth have happened mentally and internally, but not physically and monetarily, like what is necessary to succeed in life in America. I was full of entitlement when I came here because of my birth and history here, I still feel a sense of worth, as though no one else understands the ties I have here and how it feels like ripping off skin to live elsewhere. But these are delusions, made up excuse to exist here. Yes there is a peace and comfort to getting through the unfortunate aspects of all of this, there is love in my system for being home. I can explain the past, the beauty of its history to me, but it doesn’t take away the lack of progression I have gained in my time here, the lack of confidence it has created, the lack of awareness of the world I have found by separating myself to this extent.

When you find yourself falling back into your roots, your past or your birthrights. Know it can be a form of entrapment to the core of your childhood in ways. Many adults deal with miss understood feelings and emotions, many can’t even talk about what brings them down for so many different reasons. It develops into problems and disassociation, depression and so much more. Being able to address the past or the things you value from it can be beneficial and progressive, but some of us, the weaker ones, fall into its traps. I have been living in stasis on this beautiful property for almost two years now, only in the past few months have I made any real progress other than being able to contemplate things on a much deeper level. I have fallen behind in many aspects of life and it will take longer than my time here to resolve all the issues. It is a blessing in ways and a barrier in others, but in the end it is what I am experiencing and I would rather dive into the realities I perceive, than continue distracting myself with everything the world offers. The truth hurts, we all know this, I ran from it for years, now I face it, I face change and enlightenment on greater levels than internal, lonely levels. I seek life, not a dormant, reclusive one, but an expressive, exciting one.

This has been a recollection of many contemplations I have had for some time, a rant in ways of my experiences and a very long message about my truth in falling into my roots when I had no where else to go. Thanks you for your time. I know mine has been full of relief.

SF. – 08-10-2018

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Mistakenly Masked

Where are you?

I can see your face in the reflection,

But that you isn’t true,

Your mask is too tight,

Something just isn’t quite right,

There’s a body,

That’s clear,

So where is the light?

You have a sensational mind,

So where is your fight?

Draw back both fists,Go on,

Now unclench your might,

Or not,

It seems in trying,

You have broken both wrists,

Mistaken to much lust,

For too little bliss.

I can sense you now,

Do you feel it here?

Between our barriers?

Where the mind lack fears,

Now as I start to feel you near,

Something isn’t so clear,

Your are still hidden,

Ridden with delusion,


And ill-invested illusion,

I’ve got a solution,

It’s called,

Stop questioning the recipe,

If you aren’t the one cooking,

Don’t follow a book,

If you aren’t the one writing,

Why listen to advice,

If you aren’t open to advising,

And why wonder what could be,

If you aren’t into being wonderful,


I just started to sense your soul,

As if,

It’s taken on a whole new role,

And if,

You can manage to take the toll,

I’ll be,

With you until I feel you whole,

That’s “goals”,

A reconnection to your own inception,

The chance to see your own reflection,

Without inferior misconceptions,

Or fear driven thoughtful sessions.

The you I was meant to talk to,

Not complicate and see through,

Nor convolute your whole truth,

But here I am now,

Together with the real you,

After all is said and done,

I think there’s more to chew,

Something deeper,

Deeper than we’ve been through.

NV. Written on July 19th, 2018 started @ 7:47 p.m. finished @ 9:00 p.m.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Compulsive Ramblings

Fumbling through empty bags of cereal,
Because I have no meal,
That’s half way real,
It’s surreal.
You might ask,
“What’s the deal?”,
But I’ll conceal,
Hide my identity,
Under lines of poetry,
It’s totally,
A way to roll you see,
Not poverty,
But possibly,
A test of will and greed,
And un-contagiously,
Contracting means,
To understand the rhymes in my meanings.
It’s freeing needs,
But displacing leads,
As its bleeds into my history,
I now believe,
What you think and what do,
Are simply different tunes,
You can say a bunch of shit,
Or create a thing or two,
Its up to you,
Come up with your own rules,
Or follow suit like all the tools,
You better use them too,
Or they’ll grab right on to you,
Then you’re through,
Become beat up,
Used wrong,
Then be twisted,
And screwed,
What’s to loose?
All that you’ve been through?
That’s not true.
You may change a thing or two,
Any who,
No matter what you do,
Never settle,
Never loose,
And never ever end on moo.

NV. – written on July 9th, 2018 started @ 7:27 p.m. finished @ 8:14 p.m. Just rambling. Thanks for any likes, shares, comments or follows. Keeps the people going. – SF.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Rant #3 – Growing

Growing daily like my peppers,
Send her,
Back to the beginning,
Where you met her,
Let that be true,
Because you,
Know it would be too,
Step into position,
Then you rule,
Dropped out because I couldn’t chew,
All the repercussions,
That I knew,
Be coming my way,
One day,
I did not want to pay my way,
To an education,
That I did not see great,
They said,
“Please participate”,
“Study, it’s okay”,
I say,
No way,
Here I am today,
No papers to validate,
The thing that I contemplate,
If not for the world,
Then what is it all for,
Open them all,
Or you’ll choke on your,
Ability to evaluate,
What you intended to reciprocate,
In the first place,
Close all the doors,
After you swallow their lore,
It’s something to adore,
Not a chore,
Or bore,
That to you,
I can assure.

NV. – written on July 9, 2018 started @ 6:42 p.m. finished @ 7:09 p.m.