Author: Jake

Moments like these,
I fall to my knees.
I cry out loud, 
Forgive me please.

The scribe 
is not someone who writes, 
but instead 
the one who breathes. 

They take in this world 
courageous like the Sun 
goes to their duty 
before the day has begun.

I am no scribe. 
No poet to say the least. 
I could bear no burden.
It would shatter my beliefs.
 
Believe me though, 
when I say, 
light 
doesn’t have to bend that way.

I was reminded today 
who I am. 
And now 
who I was. 

It felt nice, 
rage and all, 
I couldn’t get through to them. 
Not until I fall.

I like to remain collected. 
Absolute to the world. 
Is this a crime? 
Depends on whether I crawl.

Anger flooded my eyes. 
I drank blood at my own demise. 
It felt right to lash out loud. 
For my thoughts to be heard. 

I just wish they knew the cost. 
The vibration that my body remains, 
even after the life 
in my eyes drain.

I sit here, 
now wanting to cry. 
Or maybe to die. 
And I don’t know why.

Life is this internal game
that we are so lucky to play. 
I mean that. 
Who we are is nothing but what we have become. 

I am me, 
surely that should be enough. 
But in me, 
they sit. 

Upon a throne. 
Picking and prying, 
saying 
they are home. 

I don’t like the control they have. 
Getting me to split 
apart my order. 
so that I will start all over. 

With time away, 
I could breathe
I now see the light 
within me. 

I don’t think they like that, 
and I’m learning not to care, 
but the devil inside me 
is self-aware.

My brothers and sisters, 
humans if you may, 
I hope you join, 
as we pray for today. 

As a scribe in training, 
the pen is never far. 
For life when full, 
is always hard.

Find riddles in my speech
for in there lies
something
that you must have.
 
Color is one
vibrating
in a ray
it conjures one
and then another
compiling, separating, mixing
there lies it
dot for dot
dribble down the canvas
mixing in the unknown
at an expected rate.
 
You find you’re looking at something that you thought was only paint
but now it has become something more
in these colors, you see a heart
red of course
with much else to mix
purple, blue, green
slithering down in slides
seeping into its pores
this heart is explosive
it pops
from the 2D surface, you once thought it could only be contained
in this popping
you see
more than you thought you ever would
from blank to colors
then lines
now a heart
a meaning
a symbol
something you are now going to connect to others as you had to do to make that thing
you had to connect everything together to make that one thing which can connect to all the others to make one thing
connecting, making, merging, creating, compiling
this is the rhythm our heart beats
the way our breath goes in and out
we take in
everything
and call it
its own.
 
Yet really it’s just one step before the next
and once upon that next, it’s one step before the next.
 
I don’t know how many shades there are
for when i have one and mix it with another
i will be the mixing of that next with the original
it can go as far as i can see
yet it can continue
and from the tools we have
it would tell me that there is more
than even i know.
 
But how do we know what we do not see?
how do we know what we do not experience?
faith in the things that align with our experience that can travel farther than we
for if we are a line that has an endpoint
if you could make such a line bend
move as we move
then surely as it passes and transcends through our endpoint
we will assume it to be true for those things as well
there is of course no guarantee
but a probability that we will hold and assume
for there is nothing else we can simply do
except to say,
that the endpoint is the end and everything else is make-believe
that the things we do not experience are just rules and laws and parts of the imagination with no actual basis in reality other than those very things we conjure them from.
but this must inherently be flawed
since we can know quite well
the difference in things that we do not see
for they will act upon us, regardless of whether we see
you can switch the air that i breathe from oxygen to carbon monoxide
you change the experienceless situation
into one that results in the end of my life
yet i could never tell
for i shall not smell, i shall not see, i shall not hear, i will not taste and i will not feel any difference except for my lungs unable to breath
therefore these rules are even more credible than we first thought to be. for we can find experience that tells us they know more than we.
 
Is this a crime?
i do not know
is this sad? maybe pathetic?
you could say
these tools protect us
as we will protect them
sometimes
even more than ourselves
we will protect them with our lives for they can live longer than us
we will give them more than just ourselves because they are more than ourselves
they enable us into becoming greater things than we can be
and therefore, with them, we are greater than we were before
and so the utility
in that they put into us
is more than another may put into us
and so as the individual i am, i may just see these things and declare that it is more important than them
that an object is more valuable than a life
that something which is unconscious and unfeeling of this universe
with no actual care
can be of more value
and deserve more protection
then something of similar experience
and experiencer
than I.
 
So i shall do what i want
and i shall do what i can
to protect the things that enable me
if it so be that a human being is less
then so be it.
 
this is a rather new phenomenon since humans for so long have been the most capable thing
but isn’t it strange now that we must decide
for we are now challenged to decide between ourselves
and me
and to make the decision easier it is rather phased
as them and me
because apart i can care less for them
i can resort to more rational thought
and withdraw myself from the feeling and understanding that they are to me as i am to them
ignorance is strength
i need not be stupid, for that will come with its own plethora of problems, but a need to withdraw from feeling and understanding that i am in no right to actually pick something other than them
if i can extract myself from that very obvious phenomenon
then i am capable of endless destruction in the name of i
i shall do as i want
for i
from this
has become greater than you
since you are without this
i am god
i am king.
 
What are we to do when we simply have these technologies
that allows for everything
now it is partial
maybe forever it shall be but eventually, there may come a time
where pleasures and happiness of all sorts
and purpose
will be satisfied
not a from an us
but from a godlike me
what are we to do then?
could we do this all so individually as to allow the other
to not be bothered
i suppose it is possible
i suppose we are headed that way
with automation and capabilities allowing us to not have to dedicate our lives for something so necessary as food, water, shelter
but there are more complex ladders of consciousness and that it what i question
will companionship also be automated?
will compassion
the desire for love
to receive and give
will adventure
purpose
direction
can those be fulfilled in a more involving imaginary tale?
virtual reality says so
can we find a way so that the goggles never need to come off?
and if so
again
the question remains
is that what we want?
is it that we want that for it is possible
for it is absolute
for it would create
a sustainable way for all
without needing to extract from the bottom to allow for the top
some will declare it is not real
it is wrong
it is artificial
and as much as i agree
i must also question
what is not to be labeled artificial?
what is not a construct of our own demise?
everything you experience is in your head. Does that mean to say it is not real?
how foolish you must be
to believe that you are real because it feels natural
don’t you see that natural is just artificial over time?
 
If the feeling i get from another human’s touch can be as genuine and true without the need for a human touch then maybe i need not to bash this world view
maybe i can learn to accept it
not even for myself
but for us all
because i myself
as me
believe that i would be okay
but i ride on the backs of so many fallen
the privilege and power i have obtained
i cannot even imagine
the pain and suffering so many must go through
without these things that i ride upon
but that too is such an injustice
as the quote may go
“rich people are bothered by little, pointless things. So why can’t poor people as well?”
to think of them as anything other than yourself is to simplify something into
a group, a subhuman, an other
at which is less complex
and less knowing than yourself
that is ignorant
for simplicity is rarely correct when looking at the development and worldview and the understanding of conscious behavior from a human psyche.
 
Objectivity is never that which damns us
it is more that we damn ourselves when we feel we must
and we are undamned when we feel that we must not be damned
so to look upon the world and say it is such an injustice is to really not know
is to really make yourself ignorant of the possibility of you, with all your privilege, may suffer more at your own hands than someone without
you don’t know
so don’t tell yourself you do.
 
So now we circle around and round
around a question, i have no answer for
i don’t know i suppose
maybe a choice is best
nothing needs to necessarily to be absolute
maybe you can set up your cubical
call it reality
put on those goggles
maybe you don’t need to
maybe you can do it for a few years and stop
or the other way
maybe you need a program which enables you to understand the value of one or the other
so that neither is fully lost
maybe
freedom does seem to be the easiest route
both fair and equal
allowing the individual to choose what they desire
but again
artificial we all are
to allow real choices
that’s hard to do
maybe that’s okay
maybe we don’t look for real
maybe we need to accept that real and natural is only artificial over time
maybe we just need to allow the options
and let them co-exist without any definitive direction other than the one we ourselves point
without any guilt or pity
any push or pull
other than the ones we already do
for that will naturally happen
we allow total freedom to be
which of course is scary
because if i or someone chooses to do something that inflicts upon another than i am directly infringing on their ability to choose
maybe that too is the way it should go
because like we said
nothing is natural
so maybe the push and pull
from others who decide that their will is to be put and thrust upon others is also as natural a course as someone who finds that to be barbaric
simply picking different sides of a coin
and calling it a completely new thing
so in its full entirety
we are all doing the very thing that i am saying for us to do
we are already living in this way
the exception of course is that we do not have the total emersion
we do not have the goggles that you can keep on for your entire 85 years of life
but then again
maybe we do
we do not have that technology
of course
but in ways we have because we are the guides of ourselves
and we can put ourselves in games physically and within us
we can create these stories for ourselves and live them our entire life
never needing to not
because that story is absolute
and perfect
so i suppose in this i don’t know
i worked to a current moment that is right now
a point which we are all doing at this very moment.
 
Do you see it?
do you see the beauty in it?
i do
but not
as well as i could
i guess because i too am my story
or i to am out of it and into another
if there is anything we are
we are fictional characters
as both the experiencer and the experience
we are the main character of a fictional novel that we are writing as we also experience it
going about our days
rewriting
writing over
unwriting
looping and looping
that is reality
i hope you are enjoying yours
i am enjoying mine
mostly
but i think that’s also the point
at least for me
that’s a story I’d like to write
total joy
seems a bit much
whatever your story may be
i will push and pull
not all the time
maybe never for you
maybe you never for me
but as we be we will pull and push
turn and twist
colliding and avoiding
mixing and mashing
all our little points coming together to make one big point
just as colors
come together
multiplying and bending into lines and shapes
together
create a heart
wonderful and red
it is so much more
will explode out of the canvas that we start at
and that will be us
hopefully
there’s many things to draw
maybe we will draw something else
i don’t know
We will just have to see.

I believe that many of us desire love for who we are

    Not for who we could be
    Not for how we act
    Not for what we can offer

We long for this undying love from others

    Right then
    Right now
    Right after

Solid in dreams, books, and movies, this love is transparent
  Slipping through fingers as we grab at what we feel we deserve
     We look for love… but only the “approved of” are so lucky

Who are they?

Put simply, 
    those with privilege
    But simple 
    is rarely complete

Put unsimply,
    Those who made the goals in their soccer games,
       but weren’t blamed when they missed.
    Those who are smiled back at,
       but weren’t told that makeup is the only way.
    Those who remember their weekly vocab words,
       but weren’t forced to study instead of play.

Those who were raised believing that they are enough

    Not for who they could be
    Not for how they act
    Not for what they can offer

But instead received love for who they are.

Leaving the television screen after a four-hour affair, my brain liquidates to the soup that my mother so vigorously warned me about as a child. Walking up the steps to my room, it’s 1:00 am, I feel hollow. Emptied by the ladle of death, I’m left with a gaping hole in my chest. I write this now in search of an answer to a simple question, what is it that I feel right now? What conjures this feeling of self-disgust? It’s a feeling that I have wasted time. Where subtle anxiety to do something brews yet a knowing that I must instead sleep so that I can do later.

I blame Minecraft for this. Eggs Wars was my demise. “Come on, play. You’ll love it”. I won’t lie, it was pretty great. Fun enough to say I had a good night, my dopamine junkie brain continues to smile through the pain. And once finally leaving the constant stimuli, the rest of my mind catches up. What have you done? How long was that? What about that book you were going to finish reading? Or the paper you were going to write? Where will you find the motivation? What a self-absorbed mindset. It actually assumes that there is something important outside of myself to do. Let me begin with a story:

A bit ago I was on a plane coming home from a family vacation. Staring out the window, as one does not do enough, my eyes laid on a sea of clouds. Infinite from any angle, I was trying to conceptualize just how much I was looking at. How many miles of fluffy write stretched in front of my eyes, I hadn’t the slightest clue. It was not until a plane, which I assumed to be the same size as the one I was in, came into view that I was able to have any type of depth perception. Seeing it as nearly a dot in the sky, I began to recognize the massiveness of this Earth. Probably only seeing a fraction of a percent of this massive planet, the surface area of the clouds I witnessed could have engulfed an entire city. Probably another, and yet another. All in view, I was reminded of a funny fact: we have always been on the same rock. Think of every place you have been in your entire life. Then remember that it’s all contained within the same ball. Pretty massive right? Do I need to even begin with this endless experiment? Infinite in either direction, I momentarily recognized once again just how insignificant I must inherently be. 

My time is the time that I have to do as I will. Nobody else’s will. No further plan must be carried out and pursued. It’s strange how important we think we are. How meaningful our moments must be. I don’t think this pertains to everyone, but most people. The full-hearted are exempt. As for the rest, us monsters that lurk in the dead of night, you know who you are. Haha, well you probably don’t actually. That’s how it works. Only a handful of demons are lucky enough to be able to look in a mirror as their hidden form is revealed. 

Anyways, it’s not that big of a deal. That’s all I’m trying to say. Trivial it may be, but understood it rarely is. 

Calm down, take a breath. Count to ten and close your eyes for a moment’s rest. I can’t make my point more clear, you are not special. If that hurts to hear, well I’m sorry, but it’s something you should know. Your time on this Earth is nothing that hasn’t started repeating long ago. Eventually forgotten, your dust will one day be among the stars. It’s needless to say that everything you make today will eventually wither away.

Some will hear this and proclaim nihilism. They will state how life and death are all the same, and as true as that may be, it’s also such a silly thing to me. Because what the rationalists fail to see is that nothing matters, that includes you and me. Our stress over the lack of purpose, or mind you “free will”, is just a funny game. The intellectual minds state indifference if death were today, but always seem to run the fastest away. Living in the mind, and calling themselves trapped, all I need as a bat!

My point is that as you long for a reason to be, you fail to smile at me. One day a fish swam up to another fish. The fish asked the other fish, “Where is the ocean?”. With a tilt of the head and slightly squinted eyes, the second fish explained, “You are in it”. “No, no”, the first fish began. “The ocean is expansive and beautiful. It has depths that you can only feel and places of paradise you must explore. This is no ocean, this is just water”.

Life is not a journey. Life is a place that you are always in. One where most of us seem to forget its beauty over time. So do as you please, but take it from me, everything is okay. Stress if you wish, or if you can’t resist, but just remember that it’s you who sets the flame as you begin to burn.

Don't let god send you afloat. 
Sometimes we forget where our minds are headed 
when you ask the unknown 
to be our seer. 

If I am to be rich one day, 
please just let me bathe in clay. 
A model of the structure I'll surely create. 
For with freedom comes a need to extend this blessing into hate. 

My god 
you have learned to age. 
Spending our days 
withering away. 

I haven't the faintest clue who my creator is. 
Art does not know of its painter. 
I am unknowing, 
and so I Am ThereFore AlL KnowING. 

In a world with nothing 
but self-manifested clues 
comes a reality I can stick together 
only with glue. 

Let me bathe and soak 
in all but the sun. 
My riddle for you
is that we have already won.

**This is an opinion piece. I use very direct language in this post and want to first make it very clear that this is my own take on aging. I’ve given the idea an immense amount of thought and believe that I have summarized the phenomena in my own words. But please understand that these are my own words, and nothing more. I hope you enjoy!**

I, as we all, age by taking on the responsibility of keeping oneself safe. Defining safe as the state of being with no foreseeable impending harm, we begin this life truly ignorant of the fact that our safety is nothing guaranteed. With this simplicity in mind, there only remains a desire to play. As a means of joy and pleasure, a child is brought into this universe with curious eyes and creative thoughts. Fabricating nothing into everything, this freshness allows for an innocent state of consciousness. Extremely vulnerable, for not even the idea of self-protection initially exists, this way of being does not last forever. If that child may be so unlucky to carry such a burden before they take it on willfully, the individual will not only mature but also suffer. For when a weight to carry is desired, it becomes a challenge. When not, it is merely a bother. 

The parent(s), in both an internal and external sense, that hold this responsibility allows the child to truly play. Unknowing of the need for their guardian’s watchful eyes, the child may frolic about in a carefree manner. Only needing to understand the command of, “listen”, the child can move about timelessly. And may I say that a parent who can play with their little one, at peace for at least that moment from possible threats, is involved in one of the most beautiful acts of existence possible. Both temporarily innocent, the parent once again can become their child-self as the one they love to protect reminds them of who they once only were. 

This, as wonderful as it is, is extremely difficult to do. When neither individual is standing guard, the parent will have trouble not blaming themself as danger unexpectedly occurs. Likely to coil back into their parent-self, the child will likely instead remain innocent as a confusion of what could have been done begins to brew. This is unfortunately why a parent can not be friends with their child. To be a parent is not to be a friend. To be a parent is to be the one who carries the burden of safety for their child. Able to go back and forth between the two is surely possible and healthy, but make no mistake, the friend is not the same person as the parent. Same body, but a different mindset.

Interestingly, as the child grows older in years, a peculiar thing occurs if not done naturally. Moving into the schooling system, or something of a similar nature, children of the same year but different maturities come together. All with different amounts of their own burden to carry, envy can and usually does form between these peers. Still thinking as the animals we are, with the typical need to be accepted, the power associated with carrying a slightly heavier load is one of many factors that may contribute to their social status. Responsibility, although a weight, is also a power. For as long as the weight above you does not crush you, you shall get stronger. And that which we commonly do not have but still desire is something we hope to obtain. 

Let’s be honest, the things we innocently first began to carry are barely anything at all. I said the F-word yesterday, unable to comprehend the N-word. I’m going to see an R-rated movie in the theater later, unfeeling that guns on the screen also shoot in real life. I kissed Dave yesterday, without either realizing he is gay. Believing the world is only as large as the sandbox, children desire to “grow up” because their backs haven’t begun to ache.

Another possible problem I see with this flow of life is that some parents aren’t ready for the job. Being a decision that one can not understand unless it is already made, these individuals begin to carry the burden that their children assume they live without. Like I’ve said once before, a weight not wanting to be carried is a bother, not one of life’s beautiful challenges. So if you are already bothered by your own weight, and desire to carry no more, then another’s may not be a good decision for you. Of course far too complex to actually make any such statement, holding a child’s burden may just be the selflessness you need to regain the strength to keep them and yourself afloat. Therefore, all I advise is to be conscious of the weight you will feel as your sphere of concern abruptly expands. 

Now, as a final statement, I may lose a few of my readers here, but I nonetheless find it important to point out. We age and mature in a healthy way as we willingly take on the responsibility of caring for ourselves. Relieving our parents of this duty, we begin to be seen by the world as grownups, but not always by ourselves. Many times I will look into a mirror and see a child. My big blue eyes starring back at me, still as confused and innocent as the day they began. I am a child within a twenty-one-year-old body. Am I alone? Do you too not fear the dark, just a little? Dred the opinions of others and pray for their acceptance? Not all the time, but sometimes. Sometimes I am still my child-self, just wanting to play. 

An odd thing will happen too if you really look closely. And I mean CLOSE. Because it’s not me who fears the dark. Something puts the possible threat in my view, and so I react. Do you notice that? That the voice inside your head is the one bubbling as social anxiety takes you out of the moment and causes you to look for safety. Of course it’s me, my brain, my human. But I who identity as myself, the one who reacts as a finger is pointed my way screaming, “YOU!!”. That me, Jake West, he is not the person who watches over me. Some may call it the ego, the subconscious, or even a guardian angel, I like to call it my internal parent. Yes, I have my parents in an external way, but also inside lies that same pattern within myself. Everything, and I mean everything, I have written in this post so far transcends inwardly as well. And so, as an act of gratitude, I will relieve my internal parent of some responsibility. Allowing them to play, just as I have done my whole life, I hope to create a more fair system. One where we can play together, and really let ourselves flow as a beautiful singular entity. 

We say that perfect is what lies within our core, but confusion that surely creates. Rationalism we simplify our actions to, yet emotions pave the way. Important we feel we are, yet invisible we remain. Pure souls seeing existence, but corruption is all we know to look for.

What does it imply that we are nicer as an I? That we give more to others when we in fact see them as an other? Rather than seeing the world as a me, we seem to be better with one another when I don’t understand the idea of we.

I’ll tell you what I think. 

With nothing to gain but their dilated pupils and our self-absorbed arousal, erect we shall stand over those who have fallen. Blaming the vulnerable so softly that not even they themself can hear, a curse is cast across the land. Whispering in all our ears, “fall but not too quick, for I shall be there to catch you, and once safe, it is there that you must sit”.

This mission of good is forgetting one significant thing: You can not become good until you recognize that you are currently bad. That authentic giving will not come before manipulative craving. That affection will not come before perverted infatuation. That love will not come before power craving lust.  

Individualism was my diagnosed evil. Seeing others as a them, and myself as an us, I placed an assumption on this fact. I believed that we would be better off when together, yet I overlooked a very peculiar thing. Collectivist or not, evil any of us can still remain. And given now the recognition of our own disaster, I see that individualism may just be a good placeholder. Of course not the end goal, but instead a moment of fresh air. For we shall give, even if there is nobody to give to because self righteously we must persist as long as we love ourselves enough to do so. Therefore, if individualism defines the extent of you, then randomly thrown, your riches will go. Unbiased and “pure” the more needing shall receive, which, for now, shall be just. 

I can’t believe the people in my life are turning so scaly. Wrinkled temples, simple disease, they make me cry out, “PLEASE”. Push shove love. Laugh long ago. They seem to need. It’s… meh. Like, come on. Don’t do that. I want you to be the love that I once could only see. I ideally want you to walk with me.

I guess there is this point in life, as one moves alone, that they must stop walking and realize that where they are is far enough. Take a seat, rock side to side using your feet. Breath in the air and let your eyes begin to weep. Feel the rage that burns your soul and the fear that makes you call yourself an asshole. Let the tastes in your mouth sprinkle to life and skip a breath as your heart thinks twice. Touch your fingers, tip to tip. Chip them and pick at them as the nerves settle in. Follow the hyenas as they roll with madness. Strain your vocal cords and settle into the sadness. 

It’s hard to sit. Watching others walk past. They taunt you. They judge you. They look down at you. “Couldn’t keep up. Couldn’t handle it. Didn’t have the drive. No passion. No purpose. Just a lost soul”. Some will stop for you. Pull and push you to your feet. Demanding that you walk to their beat… they’re the worst. 

I guess I’m just trying to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the imperfection I just can’t seem to squeeze. You are the light within me. Sometimes it’s so bright that I go to my knees, and other times it’s so thin that I can’t breathe. Regularity, stability. I hear the words that are asked of me. And so I let go. I stop marching as a “we” and sit as a “me”.

One day we will all see. How beautiful life is as a me. Where pain is shared. Loss happens to all. And only together can we prevent the fall. My brothers and sisters, and non-binary alike, I ask, “Why must we fight?”. Why are tears the thing that makes me feel right? Why does it seem that I am only fully alive at night? 

You never know when it’s your very last heartbeat. Why can’t we see? The love buried within you and me? Give to others and you shall never fail, but give to all, you will possess the holy grail. 

I love you. Why must it be so hard to say? I care for you. I exist in full because of you. I don’t know how to explain this. How to tell you the truth. Please just hear. Feel our souls pass this knowledge through, “Stop fighting. Stop fighting. There’s only you”.

Please. I can’t take it. Our fuel of hate has to end. We must stop telling ourselves that we are better until the end. This hole… this hole in my chest is far too deep. It’s grown quite vast. And it’s all from you. Can you believe that? It’s from you.

If not you, then who? If not now, then when? If not this, then what?

Please just lie down next to me. Let’s whisper in each other’s ears. Count to thirty-three and then do it once again. Tell me about your dreams, and I won’t tell you what it means. We’ll cook together as we both learn how. Let’s go on walks and share some riddles of thoughts. And we will do this all so very slow because that’s the only way to truly grow.

Hold my hand, I’ll squeeze tighter. Sing out loud as I start to dance. Feel the vibe and join the prance.

I love you. So very much. Not all the time, but now, right now. I am larger than just myself. I am you. Concern and all. I am you. I love you all. 

One day we will see. The world is a me.