Tiny dancer from my dreams,
Just out of reach
And outside of my present reality.
Where do you go during the long
Hard
Nights?
Whose dreams do you dance through
When not dancing for me,
and how can I keep you?
The silence seems to grow with the black of night
And it only drives the splinters of loneliness deeper,
But there is hope in that smile.
The worst part of loneliness
is hope.
Hope for somebody to cure it –
some magic creature with a perfect mind, body
soul
but thats a fiction or
it is not
real
loneliness – or deep or true loneliness
as if it is so easily pinned by by signs.
And what signs shine through?
certainly none better than a tunnel
through the brain
or the light through a rope
but then why bother upsetting people?
Bukowski felt it,
he was a coward too – the kind he railed about
with his mouth full of vomit
cheap wine and
the vulgar
taste of a run-down old tramp's vagina.
Something stagnant,
but comfortable,
and safe.
Something taken for granted,
chokes and fails,
giving way to,
nothing of value.
Something appreciated and nourished,
gets back up,
with every fall,
and won't die.
Boredom battling,
against an ideal of novelty,
scarcely acknowledged,
never understood.
Take it from a man,
who has survived many trenches,
nothing comes easy,
but something breaks easy.
Progress is possible
resistance is not futile.
Hi everyone,
Friends come and go throughout the years, and one's friend circle is always changing. If you're reading this right now, you're involved in my life to some degree. Maybe you're one of my childhood friends, a close friends, an acquaintance, a fellow poet, a twitter friend, family, a mentor, a client, or even a teammate. Either way, this post is meant for you.
The last couple of years for me have been rather interesting. I've loved, and lost, hard. I've grown, and learned a lot in the process. I've launched myself into new business, and gained new skills. I've played the highest level of sports that I ever will, and beat out many people's expectations of me. I've lost some important people through break-ups, falling-outs, and even death. I've gained a lot of new important people as well.
I'm 23 years old, a month from being 24. I'm in good health with the exception of my broken leg, but it's healing well and relatively painless now. I'm at an interesting crossroads in my life at the moment, and I wanted to take the time to discuss it with all of you. First of all, I should discuss the meaning of this post.
I wanted to write this post for a couple of reasons. First, I wanted to reconnect, to an extent. I feel like there's a great disconnect in communication amongst people. I think the prevalence of social media has increased this divide in some ways. Social media has made it easier to get in touch, but more difficult to get close. It brings with it a lot of distraction, and an automatic distance in communication. Social media lets us extend the amount of people who we can keep in touch with to an extent that is impossible to manage. I wanted to let everyone know that I haven't forgotten about you, even if we don't talk often.
Second, I wanted to let everybody know that I'll be making some major changes to my life in the next couple of years. Next year is a question mark. Will I start a master's degree? Will I move away for part of it if I do? Will I start my business before my master's degree? Will I juggle both, if so? Will I even start my business? What if one of the careers I applied for hire me? You get the point. The next couple of years will be a time of dramatic change in my life, and I hope you will follow along with me and offer advice.
Most importantly, I wanted to say thank-you. Sincerely, thank you. If you're reading this, you're here for a reason. Life is fragile. It can leave us unexpectedly and suddenly. I never see people take the time to thank their social net, despite how important it has been. I would not be where I am now without all of the wonderful people that have pushed me, and picked me up when I fell. You're great, and I've been fortunate to be surrounded by such positive influences in my life. Thank you all, I look forward to being in your corner and encouraging you all to accomplish the wonderful things many of you will be doing. Never give up.
Haven't remembered my dreams in weeks,
there's been nothing worth remembering,
you've managed to slip away from them,
there's nothing you were resembling.
And that's the life of it,
and what happens by the death of it,
always trying hard,
always suffering a split,
in your guilty conscience,
maybe I was obnoxious,
and maybe you never tried,
hard enough,
to prevent the greatest loss,
so grimey and well-stuck in,
you couldn't prevent the deterioration with floss,
and constant brushing, of your teeth,
more appropriately, fangs,
you sucked the life out of me,
but i kicked you away in the nick of time,
the hero never dies,
at least not without coming back;
unexplainable life through a time-stream,
or I'm-better-than-Jesus resurrection dream.
And I was better, and definitely still am,
because I'd never abandon you,
or pretend I existed in a fake book,
with fake people, living a fake life,
floating on a boat that became symbolic,
of people's dreams;
forgotten after they led them somewhere else,
ungrateful, but thats the way humans are,
we don't care what brought us there,
after a trip, nobody thanks their car,
and maybe we should,
or at least the vehicle's engineers,
if not its inventors, who brought us the technology,
just don't take a look at the product's toxicology,
and the way it's destroying what really matters.
But we never look behind the curtain,
there's too much risk and work involved,
we only want you to bring us the riddle,
if it's a Sherlock-problem, sure to be solved,
and that's the way our dreams dissolved,
when there was nothing left to boggle us,
and keep us guessing and hoping,
because hope and guesswork died with the dreams,
or maybe it was vice versa.
Nothing is certain, and nothing is eternal,
humanity doesn't understand the permanent,
because our relationships aren't,
and neither are our lives,
bbut maybe our souls are,
or at least our presence,
and I'm not talking social media,
or even the famous, and encyclopedia Brittanica;
nothing lasts.
I would say it's better that way,
because it makes life feel more important,
that's a suggestion from Dorian Gray,
but an expiry date never made the milk taste better,
or the dream have longer legs to walk with.
Dreams still die,
a lonely, cruel death,
curled up, vomiting,
in a forgotten corner,
the party still rages on.
One down goes unnoticed,
in this unnatural selection,
when there are still fifty-two up,
and flipping like madmen,
giving out drinks,
and playing games involving thumbs,
which separate us from other animals,
but never from ourselves,
and thats the struggle of life.
The fine walk along the line of,
community and liberty,
falling apart around our ears,
the ones in the know reduced to tears,
or clouding the pain with smoke,
not accompanied by mirrors,
it's real life,
no illusions,
there's no David Blaine or Criss Angel,
and no saints or sinners,
all losers, with no winners,
and that's where life is,
the edge of heaven or hell,
purgatory,
and we'll all waiting,
but it's never long enough,
the Ticktockman's clock is ticking,
a little faster than we'd hoped,
because nobody's only working forty,
not in North America.
Time runs in fast shoes,
before the gun even goes off,
it's cheating us,
but we're cheating ourselves,
so who cares,
that's life,
what's the rush?
We'll all meet end up at the finish line,
one way or another,
no winners,
but new records.
Andy Veilleux 