Senseless Time

As time goes by it becomes harder and harder to trust my senses, to know exactly how and why my body reacts to the world. My interpretation changes by the second and some days it’s impossible to keep up. Each sense working on a scale that changes with every new piece of information I gleam from it, a drastically fast kaleidoscope of broken images and feelings. Brighter lights, clearer sounds, sharper temperatures, and a swaying scope of scale attack me constantly, wearing at my view of the world. Each shift defines a whole new set of actions and reactions to reinvent, a constant game of mix and match, find the value, adjust and prefix.

Check my vision, watch for space, rescope distance and speed. Always a broken game, a losing battle against a shattered brain. Skills that wain faster than their use, moments of clarity that set me free. Moments by which my motivation flys, a vision of broken skies and solid ground. The heavens lost, confounded in their great scope, with solid burning ground screaming it’s putrid truth.

Adjust and prefix

Watch the scale
A distance around you
Measure the falling hail
Shattered parts in view
Leaving burning trails
Make your perspective true
Your center motion rail
Feel each push pass through
Moving you by sail
Shaking you broken and skewed
Counter actions or fail
Reaction and survival impromptu
A new sound prevails
The world coloured in blue
Cracking foundations hollow and frail
Prefix the action in due
Lest you end with an action designed to fail
A motion written in the best of truth

Watch for Space

Hear your dreams
Become a master of seams
Find the open lost scenes
Hidden behind noise that screams

Hear the space
Watch it race
Rushing into place
Ending with a blasting face

Hear it’s words
Know what they hold
Waiting for time to scold
Teaching a lesson of life gone cold

Hear the shatter
A pattern of broken plaster
Each its own single splatter
Tearing through space and matter

A shattered brain

Men define their world
With a mind short of pure design

A preemptive idea of hot and cold
Flying truth a feature undefined

Vision is but an image to hold
Ideas forming the world they find

A broken game for time to mold
Perception built to define the sane

Brightest light

Reflect the world my light
Show the feature rich world in sight
Shape it’s contours just right
Bleeding edges of colors fight
A diming future for all of life
Brighten to fight the waxing night
A future doomed with unbending might
My vision all but burning bright
Fighting the deadend fright
Colours burn the world alike
A feature rich landscape a colours flight


The world will scream as long as I live

My senses have been at war with me for as long as I can remember, always tricking me, forever showing me more than I need to know. My earliest memory that I have a date for is 9/11 on a military base, and in it I remember nothing but mechanical screams. I remember standing on my porch as the base rallied itself, sirens and flashing lights on every car, tearing at my body with monotonous pulses. I remember the jets overhead, the bone wrenching blast of movement that they left behind. I remember the cracks in the concrete, wavering in front of my tiny face as I trembled in the wake of the neverending onslaught. Just waiting, watching the world shatter in my mind.

Even now, 19 years later, I still fight with the world my body shows me. Always having to predict where my senses will fail, where and when they will alter reality. I’ve built my whole frame of mind around constantly predicting and verifying my own thoughts against the world as it should be. Always having to watch for context and verify what should be there before trusting what I see, forever watching my step in preparation for the world to run away. A knife edge between life and agony.

The world is a changing mass laid out before me, too large to grasp and overwhelming without context. Sound and motion holding stories too subtle to put to words. Stories of interactions between man and nature, of a never ending cyclic energy. The world is on fire while color and heat make shapes in the wind, marking scenes out in oily swirls. Each ray of light showing beauty in my pain and forging a vision of non reality that burns its way into my dreams.

I will never have a quiet moment, as long as I live. There will never be any form of stillness in my mind. The very vision I wish to define is broken and mismatched. A jigsaw puzzle smashed together in reaction to so many constraints. A machine running on false information, never able to produce the desired output. But as it is, this is who I am. The man who struggles to see, who values moments of clarity and vision beyond its worth. A faulty process by all standards, but one that nature has wrought out of it’s own jagged methods.


In different tones

The world screams in different tones. From the thoughts of fleshed minds comes the multi toned cacophony of need that permeates our world. We all desire something, those desires changing in intensity and focus every moment of every day throughout our lives. Desire fuels our actions and by those actions our next desire is defined, our thoughts formed by our surroundings.

An individual voice may be drowned out amongst the whole of a crowd, but they have a plethora of actions by which they can take hold of the scene. While those actions are generally extreme, the impact they have on the world can be felt through time and across spheres of influence. Each voice has a mind behind it, a sentience that can change the outcome and desire of the hoard. Each voice a wavering solid glow that fuels the direction and intensity of those around it. We are sparks amidst an inferno, able to start our own fire by our choices, born of other fires, and kept alive by the heat that surrounds us.

I can never ignore the individual, the idea of that each of us can se`t the world ablaze is inspiring to me. Yet the scope of the idea overwhelms me all the time. Everyone has reasons for what they do, everyone has a story, a meaning to their actions. It’s the most complicated and thought out story to ever not be told. 7.7 billion threads each in their own sphere of influence and scope, each defining their own multidimensional sound while influencing those around them. A feedback loop that permeates societies of all species.

As a long standing worker in customer service, my everyday job is to make sure people get what they need, to ensure that their interactions in my store meets their desires. As anyone from the industry knows, some people come in with a very, very bad mindset. With this philosophy in mind, I still do my absolute best to get them what I can and set the situation right. Granted, this is very hard with some people, and it has been hard to do with me at times. I’ve stressed the complexity of a persons reasoning here, and this is why. Those people you can’t stand, the ones that have no idea what they are doing to your side of the line or have no shame when it comes to their expression of distaste, have their reasons for doing so. They may have come to that reason by a flawed system, but at its base, it’s the same system we all use. We rely on our past experiences for every descion we make, and it’s never easy to override those.

I can try all I want to consider the viewpoint and desires of every person I meet, to calculate what experiences could be driving their actions. But at the end of the day, there is just too much. There is way more than I can even hope to keep track of, so many steps and hitches that may shatter someone’s entire day. The best I, and anyone willing to, can ever do, is to do their best to think about their influence and what affects them. Take each interaction as it is, a meeting of two incredible beings with influence and goals. Two entities tied together in that moment with the power to change each others fate.


Of motion and meaning

The world screams of motion and meaning, of a story told in echos and shock waves. A sound contains more meaning than the information it conveys, but rather a whole scene laid out for the mind to interpret. A voice holds more than the person and the words, but the emotion and stance of the individual. The sound of a passing car can be more than an annoyance in a busy life, but can be a terrifying wind up as it nears a life altering moment.

For me, every sound has a certain… motion to it. There really is no better way to describe it. But every time I say that I feel sound as motion chromesthesia gets brought up, and it really doesn’t feel like that at all. For me its as if instead of hearing the sound, I’m watching a pendulum swing in a predictable pattern. As sounds get introduced that pattern changes in reaction to the sound and adds more meaning to it for me. That motion, whether its my mind reacting to or interpreting the sound, is how I recognize the sound. If I hear just a part of a familiar sound, or a persons voice in the background, then my mind starts reeling with that motion, searching for where it came from. Almost like getting a song stuck in your head, but its the idea of the song, an image of it effects rather than the actual lyrics.

Every day I get caught up by the motion of that pendulum, the patterns that random sounds will make as I’m going about my business. It gets me inspired over the most mundane things, like the methodical ticking of an office printer, or the sound of air around a cars tires. Things that happen everyday, 24/7, all around the world, but to me, in that moment, has every bit as much meaning as an orchestra.

Its so hard for me to describe what the patterns look like when it comes down to it. The more I try, the more flat and bland the end result looks compared to what I see in my mind. I don’t know if it’s due to my lack of geometry knowledge or if I’m looking at it in my head from more angles than i know how to put on paper, but its so impossibly complex that I don’t know that i’ll ever be able to capture what it looks like.

That is my one dream when it comes to art, and the large scale goal of this category of writing. To get better at describing the beauty I see in the world. To show how everything leaps out in fantastical ways that overwhelm my every waking moment and make the days worth the pain.
I hope I never loose the depth and significance that this mind frame brings to my life. That I will always look at, and hear, the world around me with new eyes and ears because, sometimes, they will surprise me with their elaborate brokenness.


A passion for simple knowledge

Through me, the world screams.

Every sound and vibration in the environment around me is imperative. A key piece to what approaches, to the story that unfolds in my vicinity. Every piece of information is something that I can use, something that can start its own story or be its own work. A drawing, hours dedicated to research, a problem that I didn’t know about, or a solution to something years away.

Every moment I’m on the lookout for anything, a sponge for information as its known. Trying my best to find what is there without knowing in the first place. I’ve built my whole identity around learning and reacting to that knowledge. I’ve spent every free moment of thought cleaning up and verifying my methods to scrutinize and learn. There is always more to tear apart, always more to perfect and more distance to cover when it comes to anything knowledge based.

I don’t know everything, and that’s the amazing part to me, there is so much I’ll only ever know on the periphery, and so much else I’ll just never know exists. Even from the things I’ve spent the most time on, there are angles that I’ve never come from, avenues of thought that I may never have the opportunity to explore and that get further away from me the more I peruse others.

Every person has their own perspective that they bring into any problem, and each voice changes the solution. Those perspectives, and through those the voices, are changed by the information those minds have available to them. While everyone has their own perspective on looking for things, I love seeing how that bit of information that no one notices can change the entire outcome once its pointed out.
Think about all of those times you’ve seen a streamer struggle to find something that you plainly see and chat is silent, the obvious change is that they find what they are looking for, but the cascading changes are whats important here. The time saved now puts them in a different position for all coming actions, as well as reminding them that there are viewers looking out for them.

Another circumstance that goes a bit deeper and looks more at perspective is when your fixing a bike. An entirely new bike owner has a flat tire after just blowing them up just yesterday, he has no idea why they are going flat after he just filled them up. You have already verified that he looked over the tires and found no holes or missing or parts and he’s only ridden it twice. Looking at the bike, you see that the tire cap is missing. That’s the only thing that would hold the air back once the tire is blown up, so you ask the owner about it and they had no idea that a tire cap existed in the first place, only that you needed to attach the hose to the tire.
Now, while this is a really dumb example, its one I hope everyone can understand from the perspective of the person finding the missing tire cap. The point is that one of the two people had information the other didn’t and saw what the issue was right away. It wasn’t hidden information, and it wasn’t something that took a lot of skill or effort, but rather it was something that they knew from their interactions with the world. With their knowledge built perspective, they were able to solve the bike owners problem in a way that the bike owner never could on their own.

Through me, and every other thinking acting human being, the world screams. The world cant act, its voice and knowledge is only useful when put through the processes of conscious thought. Be that cousins thought and act on it. Take what you see around you and build on it. Take every moment and learn with a passion.


The scene

To me, the world screams. Every ounce of air vibrating in perfect silence. Every detail standing out against the static filled background. Patterns consisting of objects in motion leaping forth demanding attention. Grand schemes standing out in relief against a scene so vast itself is comprised of worlds in countless scales and forms.

As I move through the world, myself one piece cast upon the scene, I see patterns so tangled and long cast it captures my whole focus. The height and placement of a tree a story so grand and old it throws my mind reeling all on its own. A shattered car on the side of the road tells the story of a ruined day and months of grief over a vast financial investment. A single cigarette but on the side of the road was thrown by a person looking for their relief with less thought towards the end this fix as the start of the next one.

People bring stories and reactions into the world every moment, whether by accident or intentionally. They and we have the ability to change the course of hundreds of people’s lives with each breath taken. Every moment is the chance to start another story, to open a new avenue of ideas. When two set pieces interact, conscious or not, the exchange changes both of them. The more malleable a set piece, the more it gains from the interaction. A piece of paper is better than a puddle of dust for example. This idea is exponentially true for humans, we are perfect companions when it comes to changing each other. If everyone involved is willing, we can change everything.


To me, the world screams. Every object a story, every motion of the air a long awaited build up. To me, every moment matters, every detail crucial in the structure of the world, every spot and set piece defined and placed by you and those you see. But thats me, and that’s why my set piece matters. I make my world change moment by moment every way I can.