Solitude forgotten

I used to know what to do with myself in the past.
Spend entire weekends with just myself.

Im afraid company has now ruined my ability to provide self sustenance.

Maybe i'll beable to recapture what i could do not so long ago, maybe theres hopes yet.

Lesson learned though, people are trouble, or maybe this is just me finding ways to be untrusting and for good reason..



Regards,
Desmond Frias..

The honest truth?

When you hold your head up straight and stare life square in the face, you realize that you are absolutely alone.
There's NO one that you can call yours, don't fool yourself.

You might disillusion yourself by surrounding yourself with "friends" and even people you love. You might go out socializing, drinking with friends or even engaging in old world coitus with the aforementioned other.

Don't fool yourself.

when the time comes, when the axe is raised, it'll just be you.
Everything changes, the world, circumstances, the people you love and even you. What do you do then? I know exactly what you do, i've seen you do it a million times. You pretend like nothing happened, you learn to sacrifice, you make excuses for your own as well as other peoples behavior. You're pathetic and so am I.

Why can't we move on, Live life with being slaves to other people. Why do we seek validation and why can't we live without it? Why are our actions so governed by our chemical balances in our brain and why are we so ignorant and defensive about it.

I hate how I am.
I'm trying to change.

Are you happy with who you are?
Are you really?

The Subconscious Mind

The Subconscious mind desires
Often craves and requires
The world around to warp
Twist and contort
Fit the insides of itself

TO understand and be understood
Comprehension of itself
Questions to be answered
Questions to be posed
The little mind steadily grows

And as it matures it begins to knows
That as the mind can only ever grow
So do the questions of life
And the pertinence of itself
Is soon dependant on life

The universe was static
Cold dark and vast
And in its infinite vastness
Created a mind so clouded and overcast
That in its insignificance
Imagined itself to understand it all

The little mind grows old
Only to realize it has lived in a mould
Would it ever be capable of knowing
The secrets of the universe without going
To neatly hidden a backroom away from itself?

Tired and desolate, utterly depressed,
The mind gives up and eternally rests
The point of life, he surmised,
Was not at all to question why
It was indeed after all, to do and die.

Found the next day stiff and cold,
His friends called him wise and bold
But yet, a man in search of fool’s gold
But the smile on his face disagreed
He’d found peace, through such a simple a deed.

The Time keeper

Oh how i've missed you, my legions of non-existing loyal fans.
My time away from didn't mean a hiatus from writing it self, but merely meant thought weren't being shared on such an accessible platform..

Here's one of the thoughts i've pondered on.

One good evening after i decided walk a bit, this eventually turned into a 4km walk. i crossed about four stations on foot, then a good three albums of music later, decided to call it a night, hailed a cab, went home.

The next day i was struck by a fascinating thought. just a few generations ago, this was time that had to be planned for, there existed no quick mode of transport. my ancestors HAD to take this long to cover that distance.

Today, with the advance in technology and infrastructural growth related to transport, what was a 1 hour walk is covered in just under 5 minutes.
I have therefore gained just about 55 minutes on a task that had to be done.

What did i do with this time? nothing.
This was time gained, and subsequently squandered.

Imagine going back in time with a car, to the days where life meant hard work and offering a farm worker the option of cutting his commute by an hour. would he then utilize the left over time as a boon?

The number of hours we've saved is phenomenal! our callouses in utilizing this time, is even more fascinating. And yet, before the icy fingers of death grip our neck, what is the last thing we desire? More time!

Ironic isn't it?