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, Unfinished songs

Rant #1


This World is fucking terrifying,
It terrifies me,
The terror tearing through the broken streets,
Broken dreams and hopeless needs,
Hopelessly hoping we
Happen to,
Find some peace.
In a World this fucked up and fearful,
Get an earful of a lust filled,
Feeling that must spill,
Into the lines when I’m seeing the signs,
Signed by demons that find time,
Into my right mind and my left mind,
Gotta split this brain into two just to think fine.
Do i seem fine?
Fine, tell me, is it the stress lines?
No?
It’s this World right?
We humans can’t get this world right tight together,
We miss the point of being remembered,
Do you remember?
The last time people on this planet could stand it?
Cant begin to imagine a place where their passion,
Is issued like texts books instead of a fashion,
Fashioned ways of teaching, reaching out to children,
Seeming to forget what it means to find meaning,
In life, you get one shot, Eminem said it best,
One openly oppressed opportunity to give workin a rest.
See, this started with worldly issues, now im searchin for a tissue,
My situation isnt changing, im sustaining.
Gaining knowledge everyday like the books are fucking raining.
This is lame see,
I’m making a damn fool of myself,
You wanna see whats on my shelf?
Not gold bars or platinum stars, no.
Shit written about stars,
The people and planets, all forms of philosophy,
And shit you cant manage,
I can manage to manipulate my words with written burns
Verbally abusing the right read my shit out loud to say
“Hey, Your story is preat great”
But if you can’t participate is something really fuckin great,
Then wait,
Determine your future in the future, cause future you will know a thing or two.
A thing more than you think you do,
One day you will know this too,
At that point you will sing this through.
Singing,
“This World is fucking terrifying”
“It terrif…”…”no, this world is freaking true.”
Dark at time when there seems to be no rules,
Written to tell what to do,
Next, but then, anxiety takes over, fucks you up,
Has you tucked up, under the covers searching for mother.
You start to feel smothered by the World that gives wonder,
To the times when the sounds outside seem like thunder,
Thundering down lightning to my mind to create cracks,
And crevices creeping through my memories.
But the sounds are not there,
its this World that you fear,
When the demons get near,
You start to forget your cheer and exsist with your tears.
Tearing streams down your face fast paced,
Like if you stop all the crying youd be lieing,
When inside it feels like your dieing.
Im sorry, things always take this dark turn,
I dont know why,
If I think and try to learn,
It will be me who will cry.
I’m just a regular guy,
But when I look to the sky, I see my future arise,
As high as the sun rise when the moon dies.
And in a World that seems like it wont try,
I guess I’ll just give it some time.


NV. – written on April 24th, 2018 started @ 2:33 a.m. finished @ 3:06 a.m.

Just for context, I had no idea where this was going, not when I started or when I finished. Kind of cut it off at the end a bit, usually I have no idea when to end most of the stuff I post on this site, so I just force it at times. Seems like if I let some thoughts flow they would go on forever, finding the right words once typed out in front of my weird wondering brain conceiving them, mmm. Anywho, just a randome collection of word up above, sounded good to my mind as I typed them out. Thanks for all the support and have a grand ole everyday.

SF.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts, Unfinished songs

10 Years


I stumble through the pictures of you on my phone,

Never keep them in one folder,

That would be too easy to delete drunk, fuck that,

I want to keep them,

See them whenever I settle for nothing better than what we had together,

Even though you went through hell and back,

Id never bet the stacks I don’t have against the love we once had,

We had the purest kind of love but the kind that you could not stand,

All those feelings you had, the feelings that felt mad,

Not angry, but crazy,

Because we went through shit we should not have,

All of those times where we got sad,

your love was the only fucking that thing I thought that I did have,

I can say that out loud and it makes me a little bit more glad,

I gave up just about every single person that came back,

Into my life when they needed me,

Abandoned them all just to find that we still couldn’t be,

Simply serious for more than a moment between breaths,

I needed your heart when you need my loves rest,

If I ever go back in time you’re damn right I would change paths,

Find a way to make you feel like the girl you wanna be known as,

Not the girl that my definition finds hopeless and broken,

So lost she don’t it know but rather control it she’s left me unknowing,

If we will ever keep growing,

This love hasn’t stopped slowing showing,

Showing submissive similes to try and create some history,

participating in the pondering while pandering about possibly,

Having not hurt you enough for you to attempt to forget about me,

The last thing you said would be,

“I don’t want anything to do with you.”

10 years down the drain, Babe, I guess I can try too.

But fuck these emotions that this part of our path puts us through,

All I wanted was peace,

Now I’m struck with the blues,

Fucking up all of these love songs that I post here for you,

As if my brain is still stuck on you too,

Not only my heart to you has been glued,

She has encapsulated my entire existence,

Not only for in this instance,

But like in our paths,

We love far in the distance.

From distractions deep in the reaction you would give me,

When Id be free for a moment you’d know that I’d be happy and simply,

Content with my friends and then you would hate me instinctively,

Find a text on my phone the next day telling me you will end this completely,

Erase me and our history now have fun while you miss we.

Is this even real, in these feelings that feel as cold as steel,

Like the coat of armor on her heart,

I start to try to peel back the plate,

To expose the parts of her heart that make her great,

It was when she loved hard that she was in the right place,

Get right up in my face when she was feeling fate,

Sweep right under her feet and drag her out the gate,

Of redemptions for the reconnection with resonating reason,

Found deep in the beliefs that being free from me would let her be,

Away from the thoughts and memories of me,

That’s just not how this works.

Even if you forget me first,

I still have every fucking picture of you to quench my thirst,

Do you even think that we will ever learn,

To take back what we’ve earned, look far away and chose to turn away,

From one another, 10 years down the road and no one stands above her,

In my mind, she’s my lover,

For now and ever,

No matter how far,

From one another,

My love will be there,

And just to be fair,

I know that she won’t care.


NV. – written on April 18th-19th, 2018 started on the 18th around 2 a.m. finish on the 19th around 12:00 a.m.

As before, I thank you for being here, supporting, criticizing, viewing, sharing, whatever you may find yourself doing before, during and after reading these blogs. I do appreciate every bit of traffic I am receiving as it definitely makes for motivation to continue in the future. This piece is an unfinished song/ spoken word poetry thing, I have worked on music/ a beat to put behind but find I lack the current skill to find the sound I am looking for. With that said, I am always open to edits, ideas, changes people would think wise, I am here to find criticism, creativity, and collaboration. Feel free to say what you’d like. This was written during and after looking through older photos of a lady I was with for a long time. Someone I am not afraid to say that I still have deep feelings for, I mean, even through pain it is hard to forget someone you shared 10 years with. Although it may seem like a bit of an obsession, these…blogs, the ones about this lady, are just my way of expressing the deeper thoughts about her inside of my head that seem easier to put out there in text, maybe someday songs if everything goes as planned. With that said, I hope that builds a bit of context around this piece and others like it. Thank you for your time here today. Feel free to ask any questions, I am happy to answer. – SF.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts, Unfinished songs

Energy


The energy inside of me is relentlessly overwhelming,
Can’t hardley tell a story with out ending up vibrating,
I mean that literally, if I get a little geeked,
Find neat people to meet,
Drive down a new street,
Find some info to leak,
Ill start shaking, making faces and changing paces.
This energy is just not containable, obtainable, or stable,
At this point are these lines even relatable? Repeatable?
I guess we’ll see one day.
Back to the shaking, the way it feels inside, thats right.
It creeps up from the core, creating more as it sores into position on your skin, do you feel that?
When it starts to begin again, it tends to trend all tremendously as it travels up your tendencies.
I love the feeling as it feels me, it steals me…in the middle of a line, nope, diatracted by it dissolving dangerously deep into the depth of my disassociated development.
Can you feel it yet?
That skin crawling enegery that sends shivers searching for your finger tips, tickling terriblely, totally taking over the emotion that currently connects currents of volts viciously vibrating variably all over me.
Are you feeling me?
That energy I speak of it keeps up, close up and personal, internal and irreplacable, inseparable from the feelings that frequently find time in your mind, the feelings of fallopian tubes fondling your foreskin, is that too much?
Should I start over, technically begin.
Ok, here goes,
The energy on my skind crawls over me sensitevly seducing me seriously sending sound waves through my system of soultions for ruthless polution of popultation penetrating my perception.
Have you ever felt something like that, find that, if you can’t, re-read this and try again stat!
You’ll never find a more satisfying feeling than furiously fixing the focus in your front lobe when energy so powerful potentially pulls you out of your confort zone, setting a new tone.
This my opportunity to open up all the ideas I can’t find when I’m shaking like a b****, twitching like a lonely little leaf on a stick.
To say this all out loud would take ludicrous lucidity leaping bounds over my marvilously maticulous memories, making more maliciously merry mountains of motivation to move upon.
Do you feel in now?
On your skin, in your mind, in the places to tight and locked up to get insight in to fix what isnt right?
This energy feels so nice.
I wish I could feel it all night.
Maybe if I share this, the end of this energy wont enter my sight.


NV. – written on April 14th, 2018 – started @ 4:03 p.m. finished @ 4:40 p.m.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Rain or Shine


Today is going to be swell,

Rain or shine,

This day will be mine.

No more dark ideas,

Bring life into the light,

This day is mine until the night,

When things start to creep,

Into reality,

From the deeper parts of me.

They areant real,

These demons,

Only I can see them.

Is it time for the rise,

I need the sun,

I can’t seem to run.

These demons crawl quickly,

As I stumble over my memories,

Can the sun come up and save me,

Please.

I need a new day,

One I can call my own again,

I CAN’T FIGHT THESE THOUGHTS IN MY BRAIN.

I swear if I can make it,

Into the light,

I’ll survive this futile fight.

I said this day would be mine,

At this point I lied,

Something inside me is just not right.

When the day turns to night,

I find myself locked,

I find my hope is blocked.

So as the sun starts to set,

I’ll sit quietly with regret,

For even the worst parts of me,

I just can’t seem to forget.


NV. – written on April 9th, 2018 started @ 1:03 p.m. finished @ 1:24 p.m.