perilousthoughts-blog

[perilousthoughts-blog]

It wasn’t the first time I had the thought, “I’m going to drown” but it was the first time the water itself was holding me down.

Swimming in rough waters.

♀|} R.A.

[perilousthoughts-blog]

AND SO WE WRITE.

Spilled ink, blood and tears; fears play a part in our existence. Resistance to the accruing of years; pioneers to go the distance. Insistence in a train of thought; caught in an echo betwixt our ears. Gears grinding to define the plot; brought to boil, the turmoil clears.   Spheres of emotion pour right out; doubt, damnation and love long lost. Crossed friendships weighed by clout; a route re-taken, with heavy cost. Tossed torments typed on the page; sage sorrows captured in black and white. Plight painted bars, to reveal our cage; waged a war with words-- and so we write.

♀|} R.A.

[perilousthoughts-blog]

(via Daybreak from Look Past It)

Once again, I’ve been painting. I call this, “DAYBREAK” and believe it or not, it was my first attempt at painting a crashing wave. (Acrylic; matte & glitter 36″x24″) Also, my first Pelicans! Though I admit to cutting out sketches and then tracing an outline on the canvas to paint, so I wouldn’t mess up the painting trying bird silhouettes I’ve never done before.

I miss Florida and the ocean, that’s for sure. I’ll try to take a better set of pictures of it later, so you can see the glitter that makes the wave sparkle.

♀|} R.A.

[perilousthoughts-blog]

BEING HUMAN

Among humans there's a saying, "some people never change." Strange as it may be, there's always evolution defined by the individual constitution. Execution can be harder to see, especially under the surface, as people become pregnant with purpose. Nervous gestures can mask the metamorphosis, and present itself as carelessness. In essence the change is internal, an inferno of bubbling perspective and respective circumstance-- chance encounters filled with apparent happenstance. Malevolence perceived through benevolent intent, causing a demoralizing decent within humanity. Insanity to think such wouldn't change a person. Worsen the light of hope, maybe,  but more often it's the impact(gut-punch) of inspiration. Mutation of morals may also be provoked by the culture of modern society. The variety of violence over recent years is a sure sign of Human Evolution. Public prosecution pushing some toward lethal retribution. Distribution of supplies based on lies and favor for those they savor… teaching others the same behavior. Nature of all flavors dying under the filth of the same corruption and its never ending eruption. Quality of Instruction is evidence that evolution (with humans) doesn't always mean improvement. Entombment for example, takes up space-- graves replace groves of trees, bringing mourners to their knees. A change toward profit that too few see. Sadly. Madly people strive for spiritual absolution, fall into absent minded contribution of air pollution, ignore cultural dissolution, and join the money making institution for which there's always a substitution. Execution of illegal acts of greed and necessity-- clemency given to those who can pay-- it's evolution on the day-to-day. "Swayed, fed false tongue from sewer lips and acid smiles; java mouth mockery in the gossip gallery like swine among swans." Pawns in someone's game, forcing you to think things will always be the same, taking orders from what's-his-name... A tame change it may be, but falling into the -follow- may have hounded your life hollow. Swallowed pride, along for the ride in search for success, telling yourself, "I did my best." Lest I beat a dead horse? Of course this is change! Arrange a climb up a mountain and plateau across a grange. Rage the ages and learn how even in stagnation there's been evolution, particularly in agricultural distribution. Attributes of food changed on the molecular level-- devil be damned, growth injections altering our bodies -- being so hormone slammed. Jammed with chemical sugars, our nourishment disrupts our brains chemistry. Ecstasy aimed concoctions designed to excite our taste-buds. Prescription drugs riddled with side effects, affecting the unsuspecting. Accepting new treatments to alleviate the symptoms. Systems that train us to take a number, "Here's a pill for better slumber." Thunder on our parade any day, because humans never stay the same. Blaming and flaming aside there's one aspect of change people can't hide. Abide or ignore, the option remains-- sure as blood courses your veins-- humans have a choice. A voice across so many venues, the scrolls which we account our emotional tolls. Wholes broken into individual segments the remnants of husks we shed. Led astray but found our way while we learned what-- and when, to say... what we've seen, what we mean, and why it is we sometimes lean. Screen friend from foe or want to know how to grow past acumen-- the evolution of being human.

♀|} R.A.

* another theprose.com challenge response of mine

[perilousthoughts-blog]

It was sad; no one liked it

seven word story

♀|} R.A.

[perilousthoughts-blog]

Why do we change ourselves because of the perception of others? What makes societies opinion or perspective more important than our own? When did the judgement and opinion of strangers-- people we don't know that know not of us, when did they start carrying more weight in our lives than we do?

♀|} R.A.

[perilousthoughts-blog]

What is Good?

* old challenge prompt from theprose.com

Good isn't great, but it's not bad either. Good is the happy medium like the content among the blissful. The acceptable over the untollerable. The kudos instead of the promotion. Good can be a cover for bad and mask for the sad, but it can also be a smirky downplay of something better. It's meaning is in the execution... "Good on you!" "Oh, no.. it's good." "Good job!" "Good Graces." "You did good." (never mind that people do things -well-) "Good night." "That's a good one." "Good News!" "We good?" "We're good." "Good Friends." "Good Game!" "You're good." "Good condition." "Right here is good." "Uh... pretty good." "Good save!" "Really Good!" "Good enough." (Like a) "Good Neighbor." (StateFarm is there.... ahem) Type "Good" enough times and it begins to look foreign. Maybe it is. Maybe that's why it has been used so diversely. Good is not just one thing or even one degree. Good is like temperature in its variant fluctuations, punctuated by tone and delivery. Spoken or written, it comes down to the interpretation. Perception. Good is a matter of perception as much as anything can be. Good to one is bad to another and some can't even define it. Good is a compromise, for which we're often willing to settle.

♀|} R.A.

[perilousthoughts-blog]

Rhyming Silliness (or is it?)

Rhyme-zone aided rhythm to lead me into the schism,   a prism of rhythmic clowning... drowning sorrowful cries abounding accounting a mournful surrounding resounding darkness is .. astounding pounding points we're grounding scouting talent amid the crowding clouding the shine of our … gold told what can be bought and sold rolled into a cookie cutter mold bold to rebel despite the cold poled for the secrets you hold fold your hand wishing to die sigh out the questions why lie a little more just to get by tie the noose don't be shy cry me a river of rhyme prime as a dime I'm out of time

♀|} R.A.

[perilousthoughts-blog]

Knowledge in a Dream

I once had a dream I was locked in a cage (in the basement of a prison) left to rot and rage. Sage solutions to handle all my angers-- through the unending provocation from total strangers-- was learned through acceptance. Sentenced to total darkness with utter dependance on others for survival; revival of old reverence riled up inside me with a vengeance.  In essence, I earned for what I once had, and gave up the good, to give into the bad. Sad days stretched for years, my keepers torments always changing gears, often bleeding me dry of all my tears. Fears were swallowed in favor of spite, damning the difference between wrong and right. Night or day, I could never say-- no way to tell time beyond my oppressors stay, kept random to manipulate me with their sway, forced to play their damnable games. Names were forbidden to protect their shames, but still I riled them all to flames. Plains of their minds were shattered into repentance, my ever steeling will instilling a guilt I knew they’d pass onto their descendants.  Remnants of their presence in ascendance to my caged attendance; remembrance like a haunting for the participation of my transcendence.  

♀|} R.A.

[perilousthoughts-blog]

hey peri, sorry to hear about your depression, damn thing - who invented that! and what on earth is its purpose? bruce

You have no idea how much I appreciate the moment of compassion! Thank you so much for this message Bruce.

As for your -- rhetorical, question...If I had to take an educated guess, I’d say I think originally it was a natural means of weeding out the “strong” from the “weak.” Which is to say, those with the mental strength and will to change the way they think enough to prevent or cure depression would live, and those that didn’t would kill themselves one way or another (either intentionally or through a strong of bad choices.)

These days I think it’s being exploited for profit and oppression. Which is depressing in of itself. Nonetheless, I’ll get through it, I always do. Sometimes simply take longer than others and I prefer not to write-- I don’t like to “share the misery.”

Alas, I encourage you to keep posting your art because I love looking at them and intend to bomb your page tomorrow when I have another moment to spare.

~R.A.~ The Analyst

[perilousthoughts-blog]

Sorry for the silence. I've been painting and hating inside the bubble of fluctuating depression. Same as I ever was, another nobody drifting further from the shoreline of hope, out into the turbulent and damnable ocean of uncertainty.

story of my life

♀|} The Analyst

[perilousthoughts-blog]

Where's the phone?

Twin: Where's the phone? You still have it don't you?

Me: (looks in my painting apron-- that eats things) Nope. You have it?

Twin: No...

Me: Tell me we didn't leave it somewhere (after a day of running around)

Twin: We did leave it somewhere-- the car.

Me: You left it in the center-console again didn't you?

Twin: Yep.

[perilousthoughts-blog]

When the cosmos weeps rivers of rain the water washes up the Earth’s pain all the converging molecules of emotion trickling off toward the turbulent ocean embracing mother natures harmony cultivating the next wave of progeny.

♀|} The Analyst

[perilousthoughts-blog]

brain spasm nothing to write mental chasm an emptied fright I hope it doesn't last the night

♀|} The Analyst

[perilousthoughts-blog]

Oh how my heart sinks in the best of ways when I watch the splattering waves of rain.. it would pain me not to share the way it holds me in a stare I cannot win. I must blink like the GIF resets, yet I’m entranced all the same. I find those who wish it away, a shame. Let it rain. ~ ♀|} The Analyst

[perilousthoughts-blog]

Being anxious about your future is a debilitating excuse for not enjoying your present.

♀|} The Analyst

[perilousthoughts-blog]

A different kind

Wasting time with so much thought, can't even put down an ink-blot. Blank pages of endless inspiration but little motivation to begin the recreation. That's what so many often are for me, thoughts I had and managed to recall, other lost in the dance hall of my wildly creative and dauntingly analytical mind. So much is left behind, evaporated into the steam-room of ideas and concepts. Rejects disregarded, a process which sometimes made the good ones departed. Started for a place to write but lost it all at the sight of so much white. Where to begin, a never ending fight inside my cranium, fighting between words like “steel” and “titanium.” Strong all the same in alternate ways, like me, wasting the days disputing over the computing of a thought. It's a different kind of writers block.

♀|} The Analyst