i know what i want

Why do I have to know what’s good for me? Inexplicably I’m still drawn and the fool in me wants to live beyond the balance of my upbringing long enough to have a story or two to know on my death bed: I fucked up and I knew I was doing it.

I keep saying it.

I just want a chance to let it all burn down.

Australia is on fire. And so many good people live there. The car crash is unavoidable, I want to believe it.

I know what I want.

I want to use your mind, hear it, touch it, and love it.

I know what I don’t want.

I don’t want to watch you pile expectations on yourself.

Not that I’m asking you not to, I’m just saying what’s more unattractive than hearing someone romantically recite their pain?

Fuck this hurts! Say that, once, it’s more fitting. In the moment. No bigger picture. It hurts. Right now. End of story. Other potential moments for happiness is passing us by.

Be your pain, don’t think it, don’t speak it. What reward is there to let others saturate it?

I want her. Ritalin says otherwise. Time says otherwise. Unfortunate circumstances keep adding up. The trouble is…you’re on the road.

Constantly moving while I occupy the monitors make it easier for you. But I’m lonely and I want your intimacy. I won’t get mad anymore. My head is too small to get lost in it over matters other than me. Second guessing is a fucked exercise. I swear to god I’m going to commit to its elimination.

Familiar territory, commitment out of fear.

To a place where I love to be, but sex is devoid where my cock wants to be. She fights not because she cares but because she never decided to. And here I am, thinking about what I can’t forget, fighting what I want to need, loosely holding on to the beautifully bold, and all the while trying to fuck enough to will the word “commitment” out of existence.

One fucks like no other creature in the galaxy.

One holds out with unlimited conviction.

There’s no debate. I want to do what I want.

women will drive thru glass

here lies a monument

of concrete flower displays

so when the inevitable happens

ladies i’m looking at you

you’ll have something pretty to look at

while your husbands put you in your place

in a phone call that’ll only last 2 minutes

despite his fury

the football game is on

and you know where priorities lie

so keep dreaming of the carpet

that’ll soon flow through your home

but as hard as you try

he’ll never remember to remove his shoes

as he tracks mud across

the unforgivable and unchangeable nature

of how you’ll always remain

exactly as you are

gender kill pt. 2

Everyday I’m reborn into a different mood surfing a giant wave capturing my general demeanor. I used to get upset. Now I embrace whatever I wake up to. Being joyful about the impermanence of anything is the most terrifying feeling the first time you feel it. When you’re finally able to tap into your full Atreyu and get across the Oracle laser beams, then you realize how much you appreciate it. Short bouts of happiness outweigh long stretches of sadness. Flip it, I still believe it.

My mom told me I was a listener by choice. A toddler never in need to put it out but only take it in. I forgot for awhile that I needed people to do either. No matter the way I feel about people, it’s a fact that I trust rarely. I stopped caring why. But I figure it’s got something to do with people not picking up on it. I can listen with ease, I trust where I’m allowed.

Honestly I’m over using romance to find identity. I’d rather be brash. Communicate with no hesitation. Start to believe in this Leo mood, whatever that is. Call me condescending even though I asked a question. Answer it, we’re not getting any younger.

gender kill

everything is obvious already

never mind below the belt

anything that is real is implied

important when it matters

not important where it happens

and our parents sometimes understand

but forgive them unless they won’t let up

needlessly and restlessly amped up to be right, they’re able to learn but maybe not

what’s alive is alive, evidence unfounded, still true in our minds

numbers are nothing but a bore

now imagine just two of them

understanding is to each their own

but so imperative for some to take as their own

don’t speak to me with be a man or you know how women are…

honestly i barely know myself no less six billion people

i’m not concerned with fighting a fight, PC culture sometimes crossing the lines to become what they loathe

just let people have their confidence where they find it

never mind the demand to make sense of why the children are fucked

the future generations can live only their future, so keep to the parameters of your body. i swear it’s the limits to your reigns

man, woman, whatever. i don’t care.

forget the praise. be unforgivably you.

 

finding peace in noise and chaos

I’m going to listen to some dark shit.

Some sick satanic beats.

LOUDLY.

Furthermore, I’m going to use it to concentrate on important matters.

We are always looking for silence to speak to us because it lacks sound.

But allowing our auditory senses a chance to be overwhelmed blocks out everything.

Silence is waiting to be disturbed.

Why is it only effective to create with a free and quiet mind?

Sometimes amplifying the gravity on ourselves can pressure our imaginations to places we never knew existed.

To feel the peace and tranquility in the beauty of the pain and suffering.

It’s like breathing.

Breathe in the quiet, let out the chaos.

Just don’t hold on to either too tightly.

“compatible”

  • A word that feels reserved for artificial intelligence
  • How can you apply it to anything human?
  • Surely chemistry is more organic, more in line with what makes up us
  • Compatible sounds like a third party computer processor making a decision for consenting and fully able beings
  • Pretty insulting to some degree
  • Intuition would have been a more suitable piece of vocabulary
  • How do you tell someone their future is hard to see though?
  • Let the computer do it I suppose
  • Yet my intuition wasn’t a completely reliable source, one might say incomplete
  • Let’s say 55-65% complete
  • So what we’re saying is that both the arrogance of the CPU and the statistical data of our intuition didn’t have complete information
  • Now is the time, do or die
  • I can’t blame myself, I’m only human
  • So let’s blame the CPU
  • …and we’re not compatible?
  • Fuck you computer boy

communicate

This is delicate territory for someone like myself. Communicating what you want or need but trying to remain open and receptive to others’ desires and perspectives is an area I’m still not the most comfortable. Bending to others’ viewpoint has been my standard default because I’d rather not argue and fight. Where some crave it, I find it taxing and exhausting. However, I’ve learned the dangers about compromising my own needs and wants to keep some sort of collective harmony. Even worse, I assume both sides are working towards satisfying each other to find some middle ground. What I forget is that there is no middle ground if it hinders what you need or want. Not to say finding some middle ground isn’t beneficial, but it needs to be on terms that works for you. You have to do what you want for you in the end, and fearless communication is the only way to see that you’re getting there. It’s no longer worth getting frustrated waiting for someone to “meet me halfway”. This is a long winded way of saying to stick to your values I suppose. I need to learn that communicating yourself is everything, whether it leads to an agreement or argument. I’ve been so quick and dismissive of others when they are willing to fight against me. Maybe I’ve trained myself to believe that one single attack by them is equivalent to permanently dismissing me. I’m so easy to open myself to the many different outlooks of others that it often surprises me when people quickly and sharply disagree with me. What I forget is that they have a right to stand up for what they see as truth, as do I. I’ll keep an appreciation for my ability to listen, but this so called balanced scale must always tip in favor of my direction first and foremost. Communication can’t be effective if both sides just blindly accept what the other offers.

let people “use” you

It sounds self-deprecating. It sounds like preparing yourself to become the world’s greatest doormat. What it really is is letting go of your own ideas about how you are received. To know ourselves is not a matter of being able to recite amazing qualities or flaws about ourselves. Knowing yourself is living in peace by being ourselves. Knowing this peace is the only thing we need to remember. People will take what they want or need out of us. Lovers and friends alike seek this, as we do from them. All we need to remain aware of in this sense is whether their “use” of us is disturbing our peace. If we keep this on the front line of thinking, then we’re less susceptible to judging others. I may know or never know what people get out of me. But to demand to know or try to control what I want others to get from me is an egotistical fear tactic. It all comes down to accepting that the world is out of your control sans the boundaries of your own being.

love and intimacy

Scattered thoughts. I’m avoiding thinking of the act of sex, but rather only moments leading to it. Different circumstances trigger different emotions that lead to sex, but those moments often get overlooked for the act to come itself. I imagine the eye contact that draws you closer, sometimes so intimate that sex actually gets in the way of this connection. In these moments, some part of me is falling in love. It might be atom-sized love or the full package, but I don’t see it as important anymore to know how great or little (imagine saying “I’m microscopically in love with you.”)  I guess these moments are defined by gaining trust, which sometimes feels violated while having sex, letting someone dive into your vulnerable state, only to be met back with cold, lost and shutdown eyes. Makes you wish you could go back and just stay in that moment preceding sex and learn to appreciate it more. Love fades in and fades out just as quick sometimes. I don’t necessarily mean this as a bad thing, more in a way that you can see it in front of you, but then goes dormant and returns again. No one can remain attached to someone 24/7 with their love stuck to each other. Being in love is what you have for yourself that just happens to co-exist and come into contact with others’ love for themselves. Never are you permanently one, never is the idea of falling in love or being in love always running at maximum power. Teenagers spending sixteen hours a day scribbling someone’s name in their composition journals beg to differ (do they still do that?) Life is incapable of attaining some sort of supreme control over, so I think I’ll stop concerning myself with what the perfect idea of falling or being in love is and take it in any sized doses that it comes.

no more self

no more self

Waking up in the morning and clearing the slate  has been the most real experience I’ve had in awhile. Meditating on nothing more than a white blank canvas while I let any other thoughts fade to ash has been hypnotic. I hate moving and starting the day. The loops of thoughts are waiting there, ready to drag me back down into my anxiety, my self-doubt, and my inadequacies. I’ve grown tired and weak allowing myself to feel unworthy, inexperienced, and naive. I wrap myself in shame and guilt for things I’ve done and things I’ve failed to do. 

I’m tired of this version of myself. This “self” needs to die. I want to capture the imagination that I paint on this white canvas and run with it. I’m tired of allowing myself to believe that I’m not good enough. That the people I encounter on a daily basis also believe I’m not worthy. 

The easiest deceptions in the world to see are the most trigger sensitive. I removed myself from social media because a constant reminder remained that everyone else is extremely content where they are – they know what makes them happy and they know how to move on. I can barely watch TV – another medium projecting a life you don’t have. 

Even now, I ponder my guilt. So am I content to be alone in my apartment, quietly writing music and harmonies for the next several months? What about the life I’m missing? The bumps and bruises I’m supposed to get along the way? For some reason I develop the belief that I’m missing out on all the sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll that everyone waltzes right into. I’m nothing without it because everyone else is in it. Outside looking in again. The noise is otherworldly. It’s hard not to get ushered into what other people perceive as important. 

People tend to be loud, boisterous, critical, and supposedly experienced. All this peacocking makes me feel like an innocent church boy again. Go home kid, the grown ups are doing blow and lamenting their existence. You just don’t get it because you’re not brave enough to get it. 

When meditating, these thoughts dissipate. I feel good because this version of me is not present. The second I step out into the world, the innocent dreamer kid with not an inch of callous skin returns. I constantly ask ‘what if’ and dread over decisions I made months or even years ago. I want these thoughts to die. I want to be me with my white canvas. I don’t want to give a shit about other people’s opinions. I want to allow myself the ability to forgive myself, find my own happiness, and look forward. That’s the only experiences I want to aspire to. 

by ty miller