What You Need

Spade, Bourdain, who’s next? Which lavishly compensated, globally loved celebrity is going to off themselves? Which person, who seemingly has the fucking world on a string, is going to end their life today? Tomorrow?

Damn right I’m fucking mad…

…but not why you probably think.

I’m not mad because they were singularly selfish leaving loved ones to forever…FOREVER…wonder what THEY did wrong and why their loved one; dad, mom, brother, whatever was such an asshole to do what they did. And I’m not mad that they seemingly took in all that life, good luck and happy circumstance had to offer…so much more than the rest of us could ever hope for…and basically threw it all in the trash.
Nope.
I’m mad at them because there are millions, maybe billions, of folks suffering the same dark and scary things, the same deep depression that Spade and Bourdain were suffering but who do not also have the luxury of experiencing all the success, money and fame that they did. What the fuck are they supposed to think now? If wealth, fame and success—the very fucking things that society demands we strive for—do not offer any hope, any relief or happy distraction from the black and eternal hell that some people live everyday inside their heads…
…what’s the goddamn point??

Well…the point is NOT to strive for those things that society demands, it’s NOT to try to make yourself into some smiling automaton eagerly consuming all the garbage that gets shit out of the societal greed machine. The point is NOT to look at people like Spade and Bourdain, to love them as some kind of consumer elevated gods…
…but to look inside yourself, and simply love that person.
To understand that you are not meant to be compared to anyone else. That you are not meant to subscribe to anyone else’s version of happiness…that you were born with everything that you ever need in this life to be happy and to love and cherish yourself. And that by doing so, and ONLY by doing so, will you ever truly love another person.

You are all that you need…to be needed by all.

Believe. Go. Do.
~TrevorZen

Advertisements

the next detail

Have you ever
gotten angry
at your eyes
because something you’re
looking at
is too large, too detailed…
to beautiful
to see it all at once?
And your eyes scan and focus,
unfocus,
move to the next detail,
the next detail
the next detail
because you want to
you HAVE to
see everything at once,
the whole thing
its entirety
as if you could inhale it
in one
long
breath.
But you can’t
because your eyes aren’t fast
enough, aren’t
large enough,
don’t have
the ability, capability
to absorb the massive
amount of information
that you want,
need.
You.
You make me
angry
at my eyes.

4 words

We know the words, the 4 words most
important to our journey
our sailing ship
the words that are the difference, the
true difference
between knowing
and hoping
between here
and there
we know the words and wait
to hear them…
from ourselves, from others, from
inside and
outside
in darkness, in
a chilled velvet November New York night,
in a
blast furnace August Miami morning
we know the words;
‘you are not alone’
and they are vital not because “alone” is horrible
unwanted deprived diminished
frightening
but because if we hear
them, if
they land on eardrums waiting;
then
then
then someone
said them
to
us
and knowing that , feeling that;
having that be the friction on skin that warms
the beating of blood
within
that knowledge becomes
a beacon
a shining lighthouse in storms
of hazard and casualty
and by setting
our compass to a distant point
on a hidden
horizon
we will always be able
prepared
capable of going
home
even if home is wherever we are
right now.

Now

Now I watch as if I am living
in
a moment of suspension, a madness
creeping by on cat feet,
on
the edge of awareness
I watch her
walk away and felt
my blood cool inside of
me
felt the street beneath
my feet
the air against my
skin
and sadness
blanket the noises around me
until I heard
nothing…felt
nothing
and I realized
that
I was happy to once have had
something so amazing
to lose;
the places where her face filled memories
her smile, eyes that
looked back at me
briefly
too, too briefly
as the dinner hour rushed by
as
she became and at once went
into a past cluttered
with meaningless and thoroughly abstract
echoes of a before
before
there was a
now.

The guessing crowds

We want it all to make sense, to
be clear, intelligible, sane and us
in control but
but
it will never be, it is only a mask
to the madness
and what is inside you
only guessed at by the surrounding crowd…so
we accept obvious lies from
people we trust, from
words on paper, from
beginning to end we are and have always been
alone;
exquisite
magnificent
moving
alive
we have always been singularly in control, but
not out there;
in here
where we breathe think believe and are
ourselves
and only
ourselves…
beautiful full moving staring
relentlessly outward
as if out there is an answer in the many faces
the naked bodies like breadcrumbs to follow backwards
the dream
defined…
there is nothing out there; there is only inside
and we create everything else with our
choices decisions preferences bias hatred indifference disgust
love
we make ourselves whole by the people we create
around us
we create them by choosing
how we are treated
and often it is quantity we choose
because quality
exists inside
very few
so the cacophony of guessing crowds
however maddening spiteful and damaging
takes the place
where quiet
sincere
love
should
be.

info age

We don’t know what we used to think
it was something
hidden
invisible
masked
what we couldn’t see hear touch
feel…and
we wondered…we revered and rewarded those
who wrote poetry and stories
guesses
about who we were
trying to get under the covers
the skin
to divine that which was
concealed
and there was joy in the guessing
love
even
being wrong was normal
was accepted, was
the rule
but now today it is an avalanche
a hard rain of information for days and
days
a heavy scream sitting on shoulders
on our minds we
try to hide but it’s a magnet
drawing us back
no one is wrong…ever
everything is there
uncovered
technology murders our dreams in the night
yet
here we are all dolled up
at daybreak
waiting for a like, a LOL, a thumbs up
wanting to be noticed
wanting to be noticed
needing
to be noticed
because that is us now
willfully exposing the soft squirmy inside
no speculation required
and we don’t know if poetry or stories
will ever
replace what is
lost…what we know now
we willfully
gave
away