“The Process” Live Prose

How am I supposed to feel? Where should I be at this age? What can bring me fulfillment? Achievement gives me fulfillment. Respect. . . and being a part of a community. I find making other people happy fulfilling. I like being appreciated. I like feeling valuable to others. I want to be special. I like to express my “special” ness. How? How can I let people know what’s going on in here?

I have been given inspiration by others. Musicians make me feel things. I sweat a little when I feel it. My senses light up a little and I get high. I feel a tiny piece of how alive they must feel when they hear their own voice and expression cutting out into the world. I want to make my cut. I want to cut open my own hard shell and let myself out. I feel so dormant and faded.

What would I ever do if I lost that part of myself? If I have ever dreaded something, I dread forgetting how to feel.

I feel angry.
I feel tingling on my skin.
I want to punch something.
But I also want to lay down and dream.
I want people to see who I am
. . . but that doesn’t make sense because I’m so private.

I want to create meaning.

Creativity and expression give me something to live for. Why do I feel so drugged about sharing myself though. Do I have anything to give? What difference can I make? I want to make waves.

. . . but even as I’m saying this I feel tired. I feel like I can’t. I feel damp.

How? How do I put myself in inspiration’s way? How do I call her out to find me? How do I shake hands with my dreams and make a deal? How do I make good on life’s promise? Is the question the destination? Is this process the art?

I believe in the process.

I’ve always loved the phrase, “Where do I go from here?” There’s a song with those lyrics. I feel people in music and I want to bond with them. I want to meet them where they met me. Where do I go from here? How do I meet them? How do I translate what it means to exist as me into a hearable, manifestable expression? Is anyone listening to hear? Or do I just need to do it, so I can hear my own voice?

Enlightenment

When lifted from a shallow view
Peering through the confines
One captures something hidden
The eternal expanse within the mind
Of clarity and actuality
Then curiosity’s unquenchable sensation
Gathers all energy forward
Pulling from within
One’s capacity stretching thin
Then in a marginal moment
Your aura sings a piercing tone
Dissonance dissipates
Where enlightenment resonates
Breaching the barriers of perception
Birthing a new conception
On old self left behind
When epiphany elates the mind

Art Credit: MaRia Rose Skinner