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civilians shuffle silently through supercenters

money, money, money, in and out, but maybe

maybe money isn’t the only monetary thing;

time, with each tick, deliberates, dictates truth

each second shuffled, each second spent

minutes mending, mentally meditating, maybe

more monetized than a mere fifty dollar bill

shhh! silence – keep shuffling the supercenter

too much thought tends to tantalize, overturning

traditional teachings of what’s truly important

left impotent when without – homeless, begging

“time is money!” without a whimper. head down

keep shuffling, keep spending, keep the silence

stifle the seconds then the minutes then the hours… for cents; money, money, money! for hundred dollar bills

but maybe, just maybe —

headstrong, healing, healthily slowing the second

with breath, in-and-out, manipulating, to manifest

the seconds into minutes… into hours —

mindfulness

matters

more

than

money

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Wishes wistfully swaying, singing

Like children, cheering, cacophony

Like elders looking down on us, enticing

Waiting for when we least expect anything

Then lurching from the darkness to restore:

Like a check in the mail, a lost friend checking in

Or anything good that happens time and time again

A positive swirl in the (sometimes) otherwise bleak world

A fresh perspective, an excitability for life

A vacation, a good dream

Happiness, blatantly

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the words can come mentally, easily, fleetingly – floating, waiting, processing, conjuring, to be possessed, when suddenly —
pen to paper, rigged, wretched mind betrays slowing, thoughts halt, hammering, stammering, sto—
some thoughts pop up instead – something about the political landscape, some introversive insecurity, words in a line that don’t make coherent sense, deadened, blackened — ugh

-n.v.

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I’m so surrounded by life… and just often feel so dead inside. The city thrives, my mind wanders, days feel too short to be worthwhile, hours seem like seconds, my room is a dump, and I feel like a swamp creature. This is depression running rampant – a distortion mechanism and burden of the brain bestowed upon humans for the blessing of consciousness. Since we can rationalize, we sometimes rationalize ourselves into dark, small spaces. Remember (anyone who needs this) – there’s a whole world out there.

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Sorry for being so sporadic and posting intermittently without my normal formatting, alas… had a passing thought on the highway on the weekend, here to share.

I was looking at a tree on the side of a highway and thought: imagine that we found a tree could consciously unsink its roots from the ground. That the tree, being alive, was autonomous… would we ask it why it kept rooted and even cared about the world for so long? Why not let the foundation of the world slip, in such a careless world?

maybe we’d ask the tree

its history, to see the sonderness

of the tree. All of the lives it has witnessed come and go, the accidents it has seen, the disputes between drivers, and the death, repair, and rejuvenation of the seasons.

We might begin to stop, and spectate, and see that all around us are living beings. That we live in a living world. We don’t live in our minds.