The Messenger

They like the message,

They don’t want you as the messenger.

You’re too brash, unsteady, unclean

While they look at you with shame in their eyes

Their minds are seeking guidance from you with all their heart.

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Social Politics

For some, it’s important to look a sure way to maintain an image they worked so hard to fashion. It is a good thing for people to be keen on how the public receives them, but it’s another thing when that’s all they have to their being: the image they are “selling”.

That image they’re selling cuts the real person short. They’re cutting themselves short to be an aspect of their personality they’re not all too comfortable or familiar with.  While we, the close spectators to this disastrous parade, are supposed to sit and receive this new person, because of a personal public relations power move they had in their head.

It’s important for people to grow and evolve. Life wouldn’t be life if people stopped increasing. However, pronouncements of forced growth through menial verification of life milestones isn’t the way.

They trick themselves into thinking that a positive social attitude or image another person has that is well received, will work for them. They see what positions works for a great public response, they steal it for themselves, and try to do it better while insulting the same people they’re copying from. They always find out the hard it’s not the case–they forget people can’t be people who are already here, they can only be themselves.

It would be better for these people to understand and recognize what mental games it takes for them to reach this new image they are continually constructing in the name of the public and not intrinsic values in maturing. They may find there is more harm than good for their mental peace at copying other people to make themselves feel good.  Depending on who they think they are at any given time. These people forgot its better to have a solid foundation of who you are than what you think others what you to be.

Sail

I’m too old

like ship quietly drifting in the ocean through the night

I passed by silently

no signals from the lighthouse

there was no interest to point me to shore

I didn’t navigate here by accident

I’m childish for the way I set sail

none the less, I’m cruising.

False Engagement

Never look to jump off the ledge to prove who you are. When calls of identity are mixed with a judgment of being someone you don’t know exist within you. The best thing to do is to not engage and walk away. People will use you what they want from you, true. That does not mean that you have to further engage in the destruction of your character because you decided to do something that abruptly stopped the claims of false engagement.

Moses: One, V

 

I am stuck with The Margies for the rest of my life.

Fifty-six of us proudly call ourselves Margies. As a Margie, you’re on the top of the food chain when it came to staff ranking.  Literally, it’s the best thing someone under lifelong servitude can ask for.  We are still subject to the same whimsical brutalization others suffer, depending on how Moses feels that day, but our punishments are not as final as the others.

I try to tone down our excitement of my title when around others who have more menial, difficult jobs, but sometimes I can’t help to shout my excitement for trips around the world and exclusive entries to functions and parties. Margies are chosen which makes the title more delicious, it is rare to find someone who has earned the spot of a Margie— that has happened twice in the Franks’ 323-year rule.  I am not sure what and why we are chosen, I tend to stop wondering when something amazing pops up due to my job.

Our important motto:

“By any means.”

The main role of a Margie is….guiding how information is distributed.  We are the world-class public relations firm, as good as it’s going to be for anyone in a certain position of absolute power. We are the media, knowledge, and understanding of this country. National conditioning is done while we are on vacation drinking native liquors, standing around in bathing suits. If we have to spill money or blood, for a something to be projected in the media in a certain way, whether it be good or bad, so be it. It’s our job, no, our duty to keep things interesting.

Everyone spills here, everyone— You learn quickly what an innocently hollow face is capable of. It’s amazing what people are made of when it comes to being a Margie.

The only thing that makes this job horrendous is the executive president Marsha and her Vice president Rita.

I like to call Marsha ‘Miserable Marsha’. Marsa is just as miserable and tacky as her constant calls for competitions. She always has to compare herself to someone else over the smallest things. if she feels she is in the lead, she gives unneeded advice about “catching up”, if she does not feel like she is in control, she harasses the spark out of you, making your charms and personality seem like you’re “showing off.” Marsha, Queen of Gas, second to one. She is never satisfied with just keeping her empty achievements to herself.

I think she’s miserable because her frame. She’s ugly to me, short and stout—not like a teacup, which is cute, but more like a melted pot. With no pieces of ‘pot’ in place. The only thing shapely about her is how her stomach and buttocks stick out in unison. Let her tell it, she, “doesn’t need to worry about her looks anymore, she can ‘get anyone she wants who is of substance. She announces that everyday when someone else gets a compliment.  I guess that’s her way of spilling her beans that she spends a copious amount of time waiting for the boys to get drunk so she can have a turn. I mean, why else? Other than the fear of losing their jobs to lies she sells to Moses for sympathy.

It’s always a hard sell too. Sometimes, I want to shake Moses and scream that this woman is a liar.

At first, I adored Marsha. She  is intelligent and charming. She advertises herself as someone you can confide your deepest worries and secrets. However, as time goes and she starts to laser in her envy of you.  She became more and more of the beast the other girls catty in secret to each other about. First, it starts with her ‘over’ complimenting you, then those same compliments become heightened reasons why you are ‘showing off’ for the rest of the firm.  After a while, she always has a reason other people should watch out for you.

Marsha isn’t as annoying as her pet Rita. Rita is the type of person to play neutral when in reality, all she does is use your dirt to become more of a fan favorite around the office.  The only reason she has not been punished the way she should, is that when confronted with her disloyalty, she turns her bug eyes real wide, lamenting that she didn’t know what she was doing when she was doing it.  Everyone around here feels too sorry for a fool. Instead of a swift slap in the face followed by a humiliating demotion—it’s tea and a conversation about what she did wrong.

Of course, she’s back at it, playing all sides all over again.

She can’t be trusted, is my main complaint.

I remember when Kate, a mild-mannered scullery maid got into a huge fight with Inga, another scullery maid. While at lunch, Rita was excited to announce to Kate gossip about Inga. However,  Kate was flat out not interested because she, “didn’t want to waste air about people she hated.” Instead of Rita keeping quiet, she went ahead and told the news, as if she didn’t hear Kate say she wasn’t interested. It was wild, from that day one, I was weary of Rita.

You can tell Rita a story about being locked up in a tower for three weeks because Moses didn’t like your lipstick. A few days later, Rita will tell you the exact same story; only this time, it’s about her. No one would stop her while she was doing it, but everyone made fun of her doing it while her back was turned.

ten thirty-two, at night

She’s too much, she’s not calm to be around you.

He’s too loud, he’s not refined enough to be near you.

They’re too scary, they don’t master social skills like you do.

They’re not as graceful,

They don’t fit.

You hear they love a violent lifestyle with rap music and smoke spliffs.

 

 

Alas, you watch them like a hawk.

They taunt you with your attention,

voyeurism is unrequited.

Your eyes bleed envy

of style, you can never have.

You devour them whole as you

make plans to steal their thunder

because their magic makes you wonder.

You restrict their joy,

to mimic their carefree attitude.

They’re not good enough to be around you, but they’re good enough for you to wear them.

 

 

What will you do when you’re exposed?

 

 

To An Empty Room

So, I am going to post this to anyone out there that might come across this and need it. I may be talking to an empty room. But I hope you can hear the echo from outside.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s hard to break personal, toxic ways of how you view yourself.  At the end of the day, breaking brainwashing is a matter of perseverance and self-accountability. It’s  admitting that way you use to damage yourself falsely rationalizing the trauma as “humbling yourself”, as you ripped yourself from lobe to vein. Everyone has a battle they are facing all by themselves with the enemy in the mirror.  The winner has the spoil of narrating how you interact with your environment.  The crown goes to the voice that is the loudest in your head. You are at the mercy of what every voice you choose because you can’t shake the noise.

You are worth more than your negative thoughts about yourself. The truth is, whether you believe it or not, you are loved, needed and desired beyond your wildest beliefs. Someone out there wants the best for you; even though they don’t show it and you don’t see it. There are always secret cheerleaders rooting for you like spies in the coldest of wars eagerly ready to pass along messages to their commanders.

It is not fair to yourself feeling and wandering in life no one is ever going to love or want you because of the things you used to do in order to survive your mental state at that moment in time. Hold yourself dearly, you are forgiven and loved. Embrace the thought you have compassion and empathy from others as little or as big as you make it. It could be a song that touches you, a friend you trust, or an activity you like to do. Know that you have an ability to touch others, even if you’re by yourself, is immense.

Change is not easy, nor will your outlook about yourself morph in a short amount of time.  I will say it is worth it. Starting small can lead to bigger, brighter things will nurture your growth discovering different aspects of yourself.  A great small way to start is to give yourself a short compliment. For example, “I feel happy”, “I feel the energy”, “I am loved”, and so on. You will be amazed how much it adds up in supporting a positive sense of self  Giving yourself little compliments can lead into exercising your curiosity in trying new and exciting activities, like singing or learning about art. Doing, making, and learning new things can also lead into meeting positive people with new ideas you might enjoy exploring.  New fascinating ideas made with budding friendships create ways to further mental and spiritual growth. It also a great way to make you smile.

I just want you to know that someone out there cares about you and to not give up on yourself, it’s hard not to feel like you’re not enough. but you are enough. Everyone is enough in their own unique way, and I want you to remember that you are the best person in the world that can do you. You’re a star.

Trust

Writing is a tough one.

I want to be a famous writer. Before you laugh I would like to say, let small people have big dreams.

I wish I were the kind of writer that touches you because she was in her feelings one day and actually put out something meaningful.

I want to be the kind of writer that has cute bitches dragging her minks while she talks nonsense at a red carpet event. Not because she is nervous, but because she was with her hometown crew doing shit that had to make us turn our cell phones off because of my brand. By that time, my circle would be pretty much the same.

djioajfklda

drowning in a sea of my own self doubt.

One thing I have to side note: is that all of my friends talk a lot to each other, but we do not like to talk to outside people. It is a very small group of people. It is very cozy because they know me; the best party is the after party. So, we can’t record that. Nevertheless, let us put up the media friendly stuff.

I want to be that kind of writer that gets into public, destructive beefs with famous people because she misspelled a word, or did not put a comma in the right place. It seemed something so careless, yet created so carefully. Social media would have a field day, “We don’t believe you.” By then, id have to jump from that sinking ship, I panic, and do a media circuits back to my roots, humble myself and go back to writing in  small rooms.

It is extravagant and tacky, breaking mainstream takes practice, patience and. Right now, I am grasping at the rudimentary levels of writing, only to slip back into something that makes no sense when I read it later down the road.

It’s hard to stay motivated when I keep comparing myself. Most of my issue is that I keep looking at the amazing things other writers are writing. How they can pontificate on—something I have to read—so eloquently and carefully. It is like one of those fancy craft beers that I read about in the papers, but will never get around getting a Groupon when i happen to chance upon a deal. (That is actually how I find amazing writers on the internet; sometimes by chance, it is exciting.) I worry about how I do not measure up, and it is a limiting thing to do, it would be easier to put thought to paper to screen, but then it’s like, I can get to one of those, then it stops right there. In order to have something finished, I would have to have some type of constant time I would block some time to practicing writing, there has to be some form of consistency.

Like an ill-gotten change in a once great shampoo formula, I am not consistent. That is the core why I do not trust myself as a writer. I can point to the countless stacks of unfinished plot outlines, screenplays, ideas, letters, stories, and so on. On the same side,  I cannot show you one finished project that I can truly say: I kept going with it. I have bookmarked on my computer the studies, stories and truths out there; that even if it is a crappy finished draft—it is still finished—and that is the heart of it all, isn’t it? The start of any real project is when you complete the first draft. Getting over finishing a first draft is hard for me. Setting goals, times and habits to write have all been nice and cute, but staying on that task, that is another story. Most of the time, I have the great idea, and then maybe glancing over it another day, it starts to read as such terrible idea. Therefore, I am always stuck on what to write about.

Having something to write about is on the same line as finishing a draft, I suppose. On the other hand, well, you have to have something to write about to finish. Having ideas come and go and not having the pen to write it down as it rushes in like a wave has, a huge hindrance for me, other than. I keep telling myself to carry a note and pen with me, but I always forget. Moreover, when I do get a rush of something, I am usually doing something else that should have my full attention, but obviously does not. it wouldn’t hurt to just put a pen and paper in my bag now that I’m writing about it. But I want to half way finish this out before I do something else to not do what I just said I thought I should do.

Going famous is not a reason why I want to write, I mean, the money that would come with fame would help with me not being able to follow through with most things, but that is not the point. The huge downside of being famous is that, you are famous. You are constantly under a close eye of haters, fans, and everything in between, it would be too much, I would be creating P.R. nightmares with my virtues and vices. I understand I need to relax and not compare myself to other writers, I mean, there is no point, and that hinders me more than anything does, because I do not write, which is even worse for me. One of my best bets is to pick a half finished project, finish it, and then send it out and, keep pushing. There are going to be vicissitudes with this, but I am happy that this one is in the books for my Frida Hollywood. I’m going to try to keep it constant.

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