My Vanished Inheritence @withoutbounds-blog-blog - Tumblr Blog

I used to live there In one cage. Six sides of an ironclad moment.

Changed? Maybe. An Axis shifted

One day. Scatted six ways.

I live defying moments Six, in the past, Six, in the future,

What happens today? Tomorrow, I exist Where I can.

Would it be so wrong to fall deep into a dream brimming with possibility?

I would run from this, But to be perfectly frank, I don't think I can.

You are an idea, A fleeting thought, Someone who cannot be. A person so intentionally flawed, Ingrained with sorrow, Too happy to cry. You are who you are, What I cannot, Would not, Be. You are an idea, I am me.

If life were so simple one might find it dull. Though complexity does not carve that edge, but rather circumstance will make the man, and softness defines strength. It's the little things that matter, Not money, not things, not life itself, for one cut short matters the same. It's others that carry weight, interaction that creates. Life is what it is, and also what it isn't. A path of life once said, "I could have been, therefore I am, But not in this time."

I want to look you in the eye and tell you to move on, But it's not my place.

Opposition is the precursor to success

Dreams of Sleep (Soulsearcher)

Can you truly see something in a dream, Your dream, to make you question who you are? What kind of crafted reality would it take? The inspiration, causation; a simple illusion crafted by the mind so undeniable, so incomprehensibly fake, and valid, trick the heart itself. So simple a query, do you know what, No, who you will find.

What knowledge is lost, What skills are forgotten. Vanished into the blackness, Buried in a hole of dark time. Minds mysteriously extinguished, Spirits suddenly crushed. What inheritances are lost, What brilliance is forgotten. What more shall we now see In the years to come.

The leaves came and went Somehow it seems I forgot to enjoy them My sincerest apologies Mother Nature

I like your raven colored hair.

It might be said that I am in a stage of growth which knows no direction or guidance. I have to wonder where this chaotic proliferation is taking me.

How do you feel you've grown recently?

Happiness is your lost keys

What is real happiness? How many opportunities are we given to find it? What might life be like if we had found it earlier? What chances were missed because of being caught up in misery and unable to see what was staring right into the black parts of our own eyes? How many a man has looked into the bottom of a shot glass looking for answers he already has? How many women have spent their days searching for an ideal that does not exist? Would you know it when you found it? It's like searching for your keys, 10 minutes later and without luck, you give up and stop searching, raise your head and behold!!! There they are! right in front of you. Who first looked at happiness and said it had to be something special? Real happiness is found in the small unimportant things. A kiss in the dark, a laugh for a joke, a tear that seems to be hotter than the sun on your cheek, the sun glaring into your eyes, making you squint. these are some things I found happiness in this last weekend and they remind me that sometimes it can better to leave well enough alone and enjoy what you have.

I don't know what happiness is, I just smile and invite it to stay a while whenever it sees fit to pass on through.

Sculpture

Becoming. Morphology without method takes its toll. Changing into something without shape, reasoning, or relativity. I am becoming something no one has ever wished for, Because no one has ever imagined it before. And no one will look upon me and say that I am beautiful. Not a soul will gaze at me in wonder. They will avert their eyes from my strangeness. They will mutter and murmur and wonder. They will not dare to approach me. I am grotesque, I am perhaps something that should not be possible. One day perhaps someone shall look upon my form and know, But for now I am nothing but something to be wondered upon. This is how I like it.

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I drew a comic about digimon and soda pop.

Is this all we needed? A dream to hold us down and tie us to freedom? I think this is it. This is what we were missing. A dream. It's an odd concept to me. Something do simple as looking forward to the future and anticipating possibilities. It bound us up and set us free.

I've got this romantic itch in my head. I want to dash off away from everything I thought I wanted. Somewhere along the way I found that I am unsure of what I want at best. A worst, I know exactly what I want and I'll drop everything to pursue it. God help me. I always thought I would grow up, go to college, get a job, and be happy with my lot in life (Though perhaps not in that order.) But now I'm not so sure. Now my dreams look like a muddled mess resolving slowly into the vague notion of a hole in the wall place selling coffee and making friends. Playing music and enjoying life.

I think to myself, is this really the dream I wanted? Selling my time to survive? It reminds me of the story I read in a Jimmy Johns one afternoon.

The American Dream

An American tourist was at the pier of a small coastal Mexican village when a small boat with just one fisherman docked.

Inside the small boat were several large yellowfin tuna. The tourist complimented the Mexican on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took to catch them.

The Mexican replied, "Only a little while."

The tourist then asked, "Why didn't you stay out longer and catch more fish?"

The Mexican said, "With this I have more than enough to support my family's needs."

The tourist then asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"

The Mexican fisherman said, "I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, take siesta with my wife, Maria, stroll into the village each evening where I sip wine and play guitar with my amigos, I have a full and busy life."

The tourist scoffed, " I can help you. You should spend more time fishing; and with the proceeds, buy a bigger boat: With the proceeds from the bigger boat you could buy several boats. Eventually you would have a fleet of fishing boats. Instead of selling your catch to a middleman you would sell directly to the processor; eventually opening your own cannery. You would control the product, processing and distribution. You could leave this small coastal fishing village and move to Mexico City, then Los Angeles and eventually New York where you could run your ever-expanding enterprise."

The Mexican fisherman asked, "But, how long will this all take?"

The tourist replied, "15 to 20 years."

"But what then?" asked the Mexican.

The tourist laughed and said, "That's the best part. When the time is right you would sell your company stock to the public and become very rich, you would make millions."

"Millions?...Then what?"

The American said, "Then you would retire. Move to a small coastal fishing village where you would sleep late, fish a little, play with your kids, take siesta with your wife, stroll to the village in the evenings where you could sip wine and play your guitar with your amigos."

~Author Unknown

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Well, As much as I would like to call myself an ambitious man, I can't say I want to work for 20 years to realize a dream when it's standing right in front of me. I'm not going to let a little risk stop me from pursuing something great, and I'm certainly not going to let a little fear stop me from being happy.

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