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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1300042-SuperNova-Afterglow-End-Of-Days/month/9-1-2021
Rated: 18+ · Book · Writing · #1300042
All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know.
The Idiotic Ideate??

Formerly: New Zenith To Hell…(all started with arc as writer here from the trials of Rising Stars to Preferred Author to WDC Quills Best Poetry Collection to the falling action I feel now that settles in a white case.)
Got to hustle to preserve the best of me before fully fading on that virtual horizon glowing more brilliant with each passing day to permanent nuclear winter.

if people don’t get it, I don’t need to explain it.


We kill all that’s beautiful before we question it’s purpose. So many people find it easier to think in the black and the white. God forbid you get lost straying in the gray.

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it…he does not become a monster.”
I’ve been to the abyss and back. Not so bad.

The loneliest happy person you'd ever meet, when not the saddest person who needs to be alone.

In an ever-changing world, we need to handle topics at the ready. If you roll over and give in to the narrative without lending a voice of your own, you might as well hand over your civil liberties. We have voices that should connect to true conscience and spirit for honest and open discourse. Why feel so redacted?

Unify on issues and put drama aside. Open minds require complete objectivity. If none need apply, question the unbendable sources for answer. If you knee-jerk react to every issue lurking out there that clutches your neck, you fall victim to your own ignorance born from a life of apathy (no doubt) in pathetic cries of injustice.

Just writing what I feel without the narrative-altering mind f---ing with my head.

[MY Chorus]
In your house, I long to be
Room by room, patiently
I'll wait for you there, like a stone
I'll wait for you there, alone

"It amazed me how truth was often suffocated in minutes, but lies were given sufficient air to breathe indefinitely."


"You are all better than you think you are, you are just designed not to believe it when you hear it from yourself."


Merit Badge in Second Time Around Contest
[Click For More Info]

Congratulations on winning the Grand Overall Prize in  [Link To Item #2164876]  with your beautiful poem, [Link to Book Entry #933358]. This poem really moved me. Great writing!

Rachel *^*Heartv*^*

                   A signature image for use by anyone nominated for a Quill in 2018                    

"...lasting art is never anything more than a mathematical expression of the relations that exist between the internal and the external, the self [le moi] and the world." -Jean Metzinger

I'm in love with carefully chosen words, arranged just so, audible, edible, to inhale. I attempt to post new poems and epiphanies daily with some links to what inspires.

I am legally blind with a rare, genetic form of glaucoma. I'm described as "end stage" after two successful surgeries, still subject to further vision loss. Cataracts complicating matters. Writing Can get strenuous but seldom deters what yearns to emerge, despite a documented history of depression and recently diagnosed ADHD and undefinable social disorders and/or PTSD.

My recent poetry:

BOOK
Life’s Little Misdirections 🥀🦋  (18+)
10k views, 2x BestPoetryCollection. A nothing from nowhere cast words to a world wide wind
#1149750 by He’s Brian K Compton


Sometimes epiphanies about my insights on writing and life and what goes on...

Making sense of life is maddening. Why do I need to know, when truth may not actually exist? Learning to accept would be a better pursuit? Flailing about in my own mediocrity, hoping to bust out.

I am visible. You can put a face with a name. I would like to see other writers, too. Fiction is what you write, not who you are.

Reinventing myself. I couldn't continue on the path I was on and needed a fresh start. This time around I want to put the focus on writing and the world outside of this community as it affects my life.

I realize now that I have been baring my chest a bit more, as when young. fake me much more boring and unliberated than the real me.

A world arriving as silent as that blossom in your garden that I told you about...
September 29, 2021 at 6:33am
September 29, 2021 at 6:33am
#1018258
When I hear soft
ruffled sheets and bedspread tucked and smoothed
from her side of the bed
on the days she's off for work early
and I'm nestled in the warmth of blanket heater in dry winter...
When I hear song
the door swings wide and she bursts and bounds inside
after school, bringing crisp leaves swirling and bus brakes unclenching
before the slam seals my world,
while enjoying a cup from my kitchen window perch...
When I hear agony
of floor boards' expansion beneath his feet
after hours of dark illumination by X-box light,
begging some culinary creation to savor because
the aroma of fresh bread and bubbling chili from the kitchen reminds
a neglected appetite...
Love.
Joy.
Needed.

9.29.21 rewritten from prose
20 lines free verse

September 23, 2021 at 3:27pm
September 23, 2021 at 3:27pm
#1017932
You know, I consider all the contests and activities, but...there are some who slip in way too many rules and I have to mentally check out.
Sometimes, I pursue something with earnest and submit only to find out there are too many rules to proceed.
I don't know what this need is to limit length. I get prompts and themes. I do understand content rating. But, while I'm considering each and every one, some rule might get left out or forgotten in a toilsome process.
I have a notion the idea is to encourage participation. Some activity organizers have caught on, dropped nearly all rules. No one actually gives reviews or a reason for their decisions, in many activities.
If it is because too many rules get enforced, it's a shame these shackles in the spirit of encouraging writing and participating.
Just know, I'm still trying. But, the tedium of each contest with it's own unique sets of rules is limiting.
What is the true aim of these activities? I have to step back and reconsider whether it's even worth time to *click*.
I'd like to think, it's not just me. Vision is part of the problem. ADD might be another. But, with the pool of potential participators on this site, might want to consider all the types of limitations we seem to share here, at WDC.

This was more than I planned to share in newsfeed. Copy and paste to blog and forget again?

I think, lowering my expectations of participation in this community leaves out the emotional fuel I desire to write. I have to abandon most everything in this desire to seek and reach higher plains of understanding through writing. But, mostly, this doesn't make sense and robs me of my energy, which I assume is also needed here for members to function.

Harnessed, but not a plough share. I have to consider that last thought for another time.

9.23.21

Can't Quantify How To Qualify? Quantification Has Ramifications? My Qualifications Have Limitations?
I know how you all like the sing-songy, rhymey stuff. *Bangs head softly on kitchen table*
I added 'kitchen' where most would not. Is it as simple as one adjective? Have I gone too far?


September 17, 2021 at 3:35am
September 17, 2021 at 3:35am
#1017595
Chimpanzees recognize rear ends like people recognize faces (and other articles not researched for this blog post)...

#DoesItFart

If I tag one of my poems or blog entries with that, you'll know what I mean.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/animalia/wp/2017/01/11/scientists-are-buildi...

Always researching through Google and investigating language for prompts with a sidelong, or sideways, glance/glare. *guffaw*

Now on to the menial tasks of a new day...

September 9, 2021 at 6:10pm
September 9, 2021 at 6:10pm
#1017140
How’s this going to play out? I’m waiting for explanation while Rand Paul is preening in his corner, ready to have the referee hold his bloody glove high…

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.newsweek.com/fauci-untruthful-congress-wuhan-la...

There are losers…and they were the unwitting participants. How can we know how much the NIH is responsible? When, instead of getting out in front of this Letterman style, they lied to Congress? How are we supposed to believe people in science? How will accountability now factor?

Just waiting for more to shake out.

September 7, 2021 at 8:22am
September 7, 2021 at 8:22am
#1016959
When coming to terms with identity, it shouldn't be sexuality or gender that we're grappling with, but humanity, and within in that, morality and how it acts as a compass for our behavior in society. Aren't we just a little confused on the edge of conformity, looking out at the sea of possibility, where we are restrained from really getting a good view? Why are we constantly mired in debate about our basest desires when we struggle to come out as the rare, unidentifiable unicorn that even eludes our own grasp? We are in some kind of conundrum/mystery (not meant to be a riddle), on display and not wholly alone within ourselves, nurturing our every whim and desire to seek what suits us best, without shame or remorse for outcomes. We second guess, triple guess, and more because we factor too many things and think too much with that brain that's rewired, recircuited through a labyrinth of mazes we shouldn't puzzle with but pass right through. Why leap? Why dig under? Why the hell are we going all the way around to those horizons we dare to glimpse, imagine possibility?

I could walk out into the world and trip on the sidewalk of life because of a crack and blame myself, call myself stupid, rather than accept these obstacles are difficult and not meant to be easy. We are on a journey, an adventure, and we must assume there are lions and tigers and bears and might get eaten. That shouldn't scare us, but exhilarate, because we can overcome if we choose not to be scared but daring to stare down the uneven pathway and yell louder than the blood thirsty creatures lurking about.

But, we also have to get a handle on how we are to proceed and need a compass. Wouldn't that be a lovely tool to figuring out just exactly what we are before 90 years of life sails past and we still haven't reached the precipice to understanding? To even view our brilliant sunrise dappling a water flowing beneath a heavenly construct glowing in our eyes?


I'll take a minute to consider what I just wrote and how it applies, because this is just one flowage of feelings of words surfacing on a long journey where I rest by a sign post that I read from another writer on the internet. I know they are searching for themselves, as am I, and share now their beautiful struggle and scrawling to share with others to absorb like a ray of light from that horizon we're all summiting:

https://www.passagesnorth.com/passagesnorthcom/2021/8/13/when-you-dont-get-bette...

And I might ruin it by reiterating, I am not confused about gender or sexuality, but that I am a monster that could wreak ruin upon another because I lack the right amount of humanity to conform to society's standard ethos, in a world that would push back if I don't act nice, behave as others inside the construct? That I am living down every base impulse deemed wrong since I could crawl?



I do have a secret to understanding and watching a human up close melt down and rebuild day-after-day because of what society and oneself imposes harshly without a moment's consideration for unity within one another. Hmm. Vague?

On the Camille Ferguson piece:

I only read it once and thought: 'get out of my head', until it turned in directions I would not go, but came back to me time after time. Great potential for a young writer who has surpassed me and would never consider me on their journey, except to acknowledge a word or two. There is a struggle revealed in these words boiled down to a reviewer's restricting introductory descriptions that identify with the gamut of sexual and gender identity. Can we just consider the writer expresses foremost revelations of humanity and how who we are, and not solely about what gender or types of people we desire? I think this is where the world has gotten stuck in this liberation battle, like looking at the edge of something instead of looking past it to the horizon. There are greater monsters out there and yet the greatest resides within us, and how do we navigate within our DNA and how it is instructed?

The writing was expressive and visual and seemed like a focused stream of consciousness that is grasping for meaning, to which I can relate. I've often said, I write to discover, but especially myself.

9.7.21

This was just a quick and raw reaction to Ferguson's piece and wondered if this is a man identifying as a woman. I don't want to be quick to assume, but seemed a natural conclusion to draw. Should I reread, or reconsider what I have written here, I might further fathom the piece and/or my own thoughts displayed here, warts and all (suggesting the potentiality for ignorance on display in full or part).

Me: Life is a slow burn you get used to rather than salve to overcome, because it's persistent and unforgiving while desire for Truth is grasping at tenuous constructs that fall apart from the most tender grip.

Leonard:
Like tears, it rains. *Smirk*
September 6, 2021 at 5:32pm
September 6, 2021 at 5:32pm
#1016912
Sometimes, I like to mash up words to get new words. Today, I thought of genudeflect, which is what I sometimes do. But, somebody already thought of it and gave their own definition:

https://www.verbotomy.com/verbottle.php?jargonism_id=8890

I thought the caption under the link image was funny --
"DEFINITION: To reject a compliment. May indicate low self-esteem, or false modesty, or even a psychopathic aversion to flattery."

When I genudeflect, I think about things I revere but steer away because I don't feel worthy. I also feel it diminishes me when the thing I covet doesn't reciprocate or acknowledge in some way, for which the definition above applies externally. I prefer to ignore that pretty woman, rather than saidle up.

Regarding the comic characters at that link: he looks like he would think she was hot. I only find her attractive. One of the commenters humorously suggested she take her shirt off. *Laugh*

September 6, 2021 at 2:13pm
September 6, 2021 at 2:13pm
#1016901
Abstract

This paper focuses on the concept of fear and the monstrous human. The first part of
this paper treats Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein as an examination of fear as a cycle that
produces rage when confronted by the moral detachment and shaming of others. The
second part of this project addresses aspects of societal fear manifested in the zombie
monster and set within the paradigm of the zombie apocalypse as posited in Max
Brooks’ World War Z. The conclusions reached in this discussion suggest that
compassion and reason are the antidote for the social toxin of terror.

http://dtpr.lib.athabascau.ca/action/download.php?filename=mais/Linda%20K%20Andr...

I claim no credit for this thesis, just the feelings that caused me to google and stumble upon it.
September 3, 2021 at 4:27pm
September 3, 2021 at 4:27pm
#1016696
I don't know why, but I always feel worse when I talk with someone about what is bugging me. It's not like I got it off my chest, but got it out there in the universe.

I'm dealt with limited parameters to knowledge, to complete understanding. And when I'm issuing forth my concerns, what I share is a complex formula of what I'm affected by and a search for knowledge like truth to hopefully fill out an asymmetrical thing.

I'm not going to give an example, though I can imply for others to infer. The whole point of having communication with others is to get on the same page, get resolution. Even if we are looking at the same thing from different vantage points. It's hard to walk in someone else's shoes and I wouldn't expect others to fully realize my conjecture.

But, there are words, phrases, mannerisms we have been taught to give another comfort, some sign that we acknowledge, to alleviate concerns and to empathize or sympathize. The latter I would rather not have, if someone is going to talk down to me, lecture me, unless I deserve it. And, that is for me to decide.

What is this about? Trying to understand a spouse, an employer, the salesman, or the people at the doctor's office or bank about what's ailing/befuddling you. You know these people come with some information you don't have that can help shape perception, inform a person who feels vulnerable from the weakness of not getting a complete picture to solve the riddle, dilemma, predicament. In fact, the process can get tainted, sullied, darker from those you allow participate in that process of knowing.

In the meantime, we are taught to be meek and step back and give others space around us as a courtesy. Don't bother us with your ignorance is all I may feel from some who are downright callous. And, they may be in a position to make someone feel safe, whole and to not worry so much about the not knowing everything you'd like to understand so you can sleep better at night.

Some people deal with their problems by saying I have more money than I have time to get to resolution. Me, I'm thinking I may need that money for when I really need it. I'm not just going to throw it at each question hoping for resolute answer. I live by my wits to figure out the system to get resolution. Systematic is how a lot of stuff feels. And, it feels dysfunctional with a purpose to keep me off kilter until I back away and go look at another unsolved formula written on the chalkboard walls that surround my un-equated life.

Can I just tear it all down so I can stare at the barren ground? What is this metaphor and what am I talking about? There is purgatory like a prison inside of my mind, where I'm different and jailed for not being able to decipher what might seem life's easiest riddles to solve. I could take medication for it and still struggle, but differently. I could do my due diligence daily to go through certain processes to keep life's little worries on my doorstep, away.

I'm still going to the porch for the milkman's delivery. Even though it's not there anymore. I can be trapped in my little home because I'm developing agoraphobia for the intensifying complexities of an indifferent, unfeeling world where neighbors put up taller, thicker fences and the only connection you get is to a Netflix account where you stream endless entertainment until he day you die in your recliner, face half-eaten off by the cats you employ for comfort, when they find you.

Is it me? Probably, but not entirely. I have a wallet with a credit card, but still not tempted to use it. I've gone pear-shaped with my obtuse-ness.

*Rolleyes*


Just something I was feeling after my last few daze. Really nothing related to my online life, either.




© Copyright 2024 He’s Brian K Compton (UN: ripglaedr3 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
He’s Brian K Compton has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1300042-SuperNova-Afterglow-End-Of-Days/month/9-1-2021