Greater > than

The only thing that exists is the instance at hand
Yet we are greater than the sum of the moments we have
If we choose to rise above this fact
We could be greater than the sum of our past
Levitate from the death of minutes, emerge from the ash
We rise to the occasion, some willing, some kicking and screaming
Thrust from the nest, frantically flapping and screeching
Or jump from the crest, feathers fluttering and weaving
Through pockets of air and currents in the sky
Either way fall or fly, or fall with style
Do we call the ones that dream the bold?
Or those who rose to face the day?
Sold their souls to play the game
To hold their nose through tainted air
Till lungs explode to then exhale
Then ride the currents to the sky and fall again
Rinse the slate for groundhog day
Awake again, no scripts displayed
But played it with every step and word they said
A story greater than the sum of the ink that bled
Our silence greater than the words unsaid
Violins greater than the strings that thread
So, my brother, my sister
Stay greater than your worth on paper
Stay greater than the wounds and plaster
Stay greater than the selves we master

Widows and wealth

They say war creates widows and wealth
In the wake of the turmoil, the waves are felt
The rising tide lifts all ships and drowns the rest
The wandering eye sees all things but is blind to itself

The warrior had the world in his hands
And then watched it all crumble to sand
It felt strange to have so much power and feel so helpless
Like an elephant at sea, or a shark in a forest

Still, there’s something about widows and wealth
That leaves sensations only the past has felt
The rising tides kept us anchored in its depths
The wandering eye sees not what is chained to itself

At war with our peace, at war with our pain
Leaves us with losses that can’t be reclaimed
Leaves us with gains that could vanish in days
Though the fires are gone, the ashes remain

I’m afraid you’re cynical

Give it to my straight Doc, none of the sugar-coated nonsense
It’s not looking good sir, you’re going to want to sit for this
You’re becoming cynical
I’m afraid it’s terminal
We ran some tests to see how bad
And when we played you that song with the new dance fad
We noticed aggravations here, here and especially here in your facial areas
Not to mention muscle tension in your arms and shoulders
We might run a few more tests on some TV shows
Although we’re concerned a vein might explode

How long do I have doc? Just give me the damn news
Maybe 2 to 5 years before you become insufferable
So what should I expect?
It’s going to start at your bum and spread
Eventually, you’ll just be an asshole with a head
I don’t see any chance of recovery barring a miracle
But I’ll prescribe these to get you through
You could start on those things you’ve always wanted to do
Maybe try something new
Spend time with the ones you love
A few doses of daily hugs
Sir, you’ve become cynical
And I’m afraid it’s critical

Contraindications

Are you okay? You seem a little off
We’re in constant flux, it’s just a little trough
You should see people, spend time with the ones you love
You should take time for yourself, focus on self-love

You should take time to do nothing, spend some time in the sun
It’ll make you feel better if you got some things done
Your system is out of balance, maybe you need some meds
Perhaps all those chemicals are messing with your head

You never talk to God, maybe you need to pray
Maybe he doesn’t exist, you need to meditate
You need a plan, strategise or you fail
No one knows the future, take it with the day

Do something for yourself if you want to feel better
If you really want fulfilment, do something for another
There are twice as many answers as there are questions
For twice the queries, only half the response

Your hill

Never underestimate your battles
Never understate your victories
No matter how shallow
Some people entered that hole
And never made it out
No matter how long it took you
No matter how much of you it took
You’ll grow…
You’ll heal…
Still…
Not many make it up that hill

Instance of lucidity

I’ve been dying for a way out this life
Hope the darkness doesn’t weigh out this light
Silver linings don’t always play out this bright
Hope the blackness doesn’t grey out this white
Still, I slide in and out of love for myself
If I prayed, it’ll be to survive my mental health
I spend more time hating than I do loving myself
Like it’s so tragic being myself,
if I could beam myself out of myself
Just so I meet myself and treat myself
Like I treat others who aren’t myself
Maybe then I’d learn to love myself

See, I’ve never been the stay happy lad
A pessimist with a smiley façade
Happy go lucky is one heavy mask
Yet taking it off is a hell of a task
I wonder if being me is profitable in this economy
Or even enough to be happy
Enough to justify the means
Or enough to support a family
Nevertheless, I play for the wins
Nevertheless, I cheer for my team
Under duress stay cool as a breeze
Till I’m off to bed to take off my skins

Still trying to get a refund for the dreams they sold to me
Think back at my life and let the pain wash over me
Couple highs couple lows, wondering if I average wins
All about the quality of the highs like I sold coca leaves
I find myself slipping into unhealthy habits
Easy dopamine to raise my spirits
But it barely lasts long enough to grab it
There was a time it lasted longer than minutes
Hey,
Some people are born to choices
Some people are born to battles
Some people are born exploited
Some people are born to fortune

But,
I promise never to fall asleep at the wheel of my existence
To keep my pupils peeled and keep it consistent
Keep it 100 like centuries
Keep it 100 like a third of the spartan army
Give it 100 till there’s nothing left to give
Give it 100 till I get to my instance of lucidity

The dilemma of nothing

When we can’t shine, we glow,
when we can’t glow,
we twinkle,
even if it’s just a little.
It seems the universe rages against the very idea of non-existence. Sure, it is quite absurd that anything exists at all. It is, however, just as peculiar how difficult it is for nothing to exist, the absolute concept of nothingness. Even in our daily lives, we are constantly beaconed to an innate call within us, to be something, to be more. This drive is so present that it seemingly takes an immense amount of effort to defy it, and even when you choose to be nothing, isn’t that something? Maybe there’s some wisdom we can gain from the cosmos itself on the subject of nothingness.

Nothing.
When we can’t shine, we glow,
when we can’t glow,
we twinkle,
even if it’s just a little.
One way to describe “nothing” is as empty space, a vacuum. Say the optimist, pessimist and realist poured out the contents of the half-filled glass of water on the table, they might all agree that the glass was empty, however, a physicist might smugly order someone to clean up this mess, and then add that the glass wasn’t empty, it was filled with air, precisely 27 million million million molecules in every cubic centimetre (a space about the size of a sugar cube). Okay, let’s try to get all that air out, shall we? The large hadron collider at CERN has the closest thing to a perfect vacuum in our solar system, even better than interplanetary space. In there, there are still about 200 thousand molecules per cubic centimetre, a vast improvement no doubt, but still not nothing. How low can we go? Well, let’s hop onto a spaceship to venture beyond our solar system, into the cosmos in search of the perfect vacuum. Our journey would first lead us to interstellar space, the space between stars, there, we might find about 1 atom for every cubic centimetre. Nay! Not good enough, let us venture farther, past our milky way galaxy, to the vast incredible ocean of “nothingness” between galaxies. Here, it’s cold, quiet and lonely, not too lonely, however. In this serene abyss, we may find about ten atoms for every million cubic centimetres (about a hundred thousand times less than interstellar space). Still, that’s something…

Still not nothing.
When we can’t shine, we glow,
when we can’t glow,
we twinkle,
even if it’s just a little.
Now you may ask, how about the space in-between those lonely atoms? That must be nothing right? Well, my curious clever compadre, it would seem that the universe has a few more tricks up its sleeves. It appears that the rules of the stage, the stage of space and time is that the show must go on, even when the show is difficult, the drums keep beating. It turns out, even in a perfect vacuum there is a quiet sea of energy and in this emptiness, there are things called quantum fluctuations. Particles of matter and antimatter pop into existence for very brief moments. These particles inevitably collide in tiny flashes, annihilating each other into “nothingness”, minuscule sparks in the dark.

When we can’t shine, we glow,
when we can’t glow,
we twinkle,
even if it’s just a little… Right?
Even in the infinite darkness, the universe wills itself into existence,
creating light from the darkness.
All anyone can be sure of is that they exist,
that whatever you are experiencing is real on some level,
the existence of the experience itself cannot be denied.
Being anything is hard and being nothing can be harder,
sometimes the best you can be,
is to be as you as you can be.

When we can’t shine, we glow,
when we can’t glow,
we twinkle,
even if it’s just a little.

Defiance of the dark

We are all prisoners to this reality
So, why don’t we make a break for it?
Claw through that tunnel to insanity
What do you say, ol’ pal? Keen to dig?

There’s something beyond this dimension
Something vast, it must be
The rest of the world is beyond this wall
There has to be more to the story

So, old friend, what do you say?
The reality out there could be darker
But I yearn to feel alive again
To break this monotony, to die faster

Let’s plot this path to salvation
Lest we become dead like the furniture
Hell, let’s dig our ditch to damnation
What do you say, ol’ pal?
Yes, let’s ride this road to redemption
It seems the options are to live lesser or die faster

Abandoning meaning

There were times when I didn’t think
I wouldn’t survive my search for meaning
I mean, sometimes I still have my doubts
It’s as fleeting as the images we see in clouds
Even when you’ve laid your foundations on some solid ground
Sometimes you’re locked outside, on a cold night with no one home
Knocking frantically at the door
Waiting for meaning to usher you to warmth
Yet, no answers
Emptiness
You hear your knocks spoken back to you through echoes from the walls
And you’re forced to weather the night
Or knock desperately on other doors
Damn, those nights are the worst

Perhaps the problem is entitlement
Maybe meaning is a luxury, an event
Meant to be celebrated in its presence
Not lamented in its absence
Like a visit from a distant friend
Slightly unfamiliar, slightly changed
Not owed the presence
Nor the pursuit
Maybe it’s meant to be abandoned
Or at least abandon the pursuit of
As we don’t run to summer nor chase the spring
But we weather the winter week by week
In the same vane as a pledge or decree
A declaration of defiance, a manifesto of malice
From this day forth with valour and glee
I hereby abandon my pursuit of meaning

Empty ransom

I’ve had my fair share of issues with this reality
But every so often I realise this quirky little universe has grown on me
And in this realisation I’ve updated my list of demands
Something that’s more attuned to the laws of this universe

I came for the magic
The damn ecstatic
The twinkle of the eye when
When the story’s climactic

I’m here for the magic
Nothing less than ecstatic
Adventure and discovery
For nothing less, nothing less than magic

You do that for me, little ol universe
And I’ll be yours forever like I hold the cards
I’ll ride on your winds of chaos into portals of time
Into the abyss, with a wild heart and open arms

Yes! I came for the magic
The damn ecstatic
The twinkle of the eye when
When the story’s climactic

I’m here for the magic
Nothing less than ecstatic
Adventure and discovery
For nothing less, nothing less than magic