Camel Cigarette

To me cigarette smoke will always dance,

Always find a way off my finger waving in patterns within the wind,

Maybe it’s because I am ignoring all the mental rants,

Making myself believe that there is happiness trying to push its way within.

The world is always going to spin but so is my head,

Sometimes its just better to feel everything in the moment,

Rather than

 

 

 

I want to write a poem but when it comes down to it all I want to do is rant on paper. On the screen. Watch my words come out letter by letter. At least here I don’t have to beat around the bush, because who is there to judge me. I believe that I am feeling a little lost, however it doesn’t seem to piece together just right. It feels like yesterday I was just talking about how I am happy about everything that is happening and how great life is, and blah blah blah blah blaaaaaaaaaaaaah, yet here I am three months later….not there anymore. I don’t really know why though, things have only been getting better, better than they have been my entire remembering life…so why do I feel so…empty. I say empty because I can see sometimes in the mirror that I look empty. My eyes are empty. My expression, expressionless. I know how my eyes look when I smile, and how my smile looks when my eyes see something I like, but right now nothing is there. I know why, except I don’t want to believe it. More like I don’t want to admit it. I can’t say I have a problem, however I do. So, with this being said; am I okay because I recognize my feelings, emotions, and behaviors…or am I completely insane in the coocoo train brain that has me jumping though unexplainable hoops? I don’t want to admit that I am “unhappy” because it is such an ugly word BUT! I am. Not by choice though, I know that sounds a bit nutty (aside from the fact that I am a nut and then some from crazy) but I feel as though I have always since I was a child felt emptiness and unhappiness in the bottom of my head, even when I have been at the peaks of happiness. I felt like I lost that youthfulness grasp on things like songs and sunsets that do nothing but fill my gut with butterflies and high spirits. On the other hand, I found something. Something that has allowed me to dig deep and feel that again. Smell it, taste it, and most importantly feel   it. The sunsets look beautiful again, and the sky oversees what only our minds can imagine. I love being able to feel so free again, let my hair down and stand with my arms wide against the wind and say “hello world, how ya doin’ today?!” But just like what goes up must come down; I feel those moments of amazement and in a blink of an eye it’s gone. Gone and I kept trying not to let go but the grip just isn’t tight enough. So, what do I do? Well, I go through unwanted journeys to uncomfortable places only to reach a little bit of bliss. I wish it could just come to me, have it just be there when I wanted it to. I. Do. Not. Have. A. Problem. Although why do I keep saying it? Paranoia? No, no I thought I told you…just crazy. I have not a clue to where I am going with any of this; I thought that maybe getting it out would make it a bit easier on my head to organize the clusterfuck of things going on up there. I think I am ranting because I’m scared. That is a word you won’t hear me say nor admit with the exception of clowns, spiders, and forest fires (I’m serious). I’m scared that because I want to feel happy, I’m going to get addicted to happiness. I want more, I want to find different ways and I’m not too happy at the paths my eyes are imagining. There are days where I feel so angelic, confidant, and completely in check and in balance. Then there are those few days, the ones where the horns come out and just a dab of gluttony and sinful pleasures of rebellion to taste a bit of heaven. I just want to stay in the clouds, and I can manage to do that on a daily basis, only because I’ve been doing that for more years than I would truly like admit because I feel old. However, even up in the clouds it gets boring so I just want to add a silver lining. I’m tired, and I feel like I haven’t slept in months, I’m unhappy because I’m cranky and moody due to lack of sleep. Nothing more. Everything else above was me just trying to get my creative juices flowing to write a beautiful poem. Right?...

or am I not the only one who thinks this