Pandora's Box

                 Today I finished reading my novel. Success! It feels like a milestone completed. When I graduated college (1 yr ago) I slipped out of a regular routine of reading. Now, for myself, I'm a book worm. I have a feeling that most of you reading this aren't impressed; wow Tyler, you read a book! For me this small accomplishment symbolizes much more than a simple read; it symbolizes my ambition, my drive, my potential to push myself to new limits. This book could be a mountain I climbed, a language I learned,  or a house I built. But it's not, not yet. For now it's just a book. A fascinating one at that. I mentioned this in my previous blog but it's worth repeating; the novel is Eastern Body Western Mind by Anodea Judith. I've read all the pages but I've yet to finish my work with the book. There are a few exercises for one whom wishes to find a better balance within. It's not portrayed as a self-help book but it has taken this role in my life. I feel as though I've opened up the Pandora's Box of my soul. By releasing these demons I can decipher their origin and bring clarity to the cause of my actions.

                       I've been feeling the positivity bursting out of me like a shaken up bottle of pop freshly cracked open. I am so thankful to regain the happiness within. I lost it when I broke my heart. Notice how I mention I broke my heart. Before I was even separated from my significant other I was heartbroken. Not for the predicted loss of him but for the fact that I had lost myself. I lost everything I held dear, my independence, my solidarity, my confidence, my self-assurance, and maybe most importantly my overall care-free, happy-go-lucky state of being. I've been down before, but each time I get up I stand stronger.


Rhythmic Expression, Poetic Possession

We write words in an attempt to define our feelings.
I have a hard time literally expressing my emotions.
You may be able to read my happy hopes of humble hedonism;
but does it make your heart skip a beat as you discover my devotions?

I want to wrap my sentences around you like I would my arms;
hugging you with every syllable you sound as you read aloud. 
When distance defines the resistance of our regression we are held together by words.
We tend to chose them more wisely, no slurs or blurs or ders or mumbled nerves. 

Maybe the healthiest relationships are those spent with geographical barriers.
With plenty of space to erase the chaos, the chase, the catty race, we are only left with our words.  
Many say actions reveal our true face, the essence of one they must embrace.
Without actions to describe the one we've prescribed there's no room to lay lies.

The emotions are right here, written for your eyes to read.
Your vision of me is thus conceived. 
You cannot compare it to how I acted last night or what I said in anger this morning. 
You only know the truth you've been lead to believe. 
Is this an illusion or an accurate conclusion?