Alone is still the best

Alone is still the best

Especially when it feels like you’re being chewed on,

and I’m no morsel for fetishes,

not especially for men of ingratitude,

nor women of lust.

W.E.

#lifesaver @morning.owl this arvo

Void fillers and stuff

We all supposedly have big black holes,
bad holes,
voids…
And we choose the void fillers.

At times it’s love, companionship, children, family.
Some choose adrenaline, others  religion.

Food can comfort some, anger, rage and guilt for others.

Art, expressed through the body, mind or spirit is as fitting a filler as can be.

I chose it all except for drugs and alcohol, but I don’t think I wouldn’t have written any differently, lived any differently, loved any differently, fought any differently, nor do I pass judgement on those who couldn’t find another way, whatever they choose.

I’ve hearkened to the darkness of being alone with it far too long to discount someone else’s hole.

But irony is that the hole is needed. There is nothing that can fill it. It’s there to keep pouring things into, beauty into, life into. To keep finding something to contribute to and throw it into it. The nomenclature of our generation has been hijacked by irresponsible and inexperienced liars, sometimes naive,  mostly materialistic liars.

The reality is, it’s not a hole, it’s the inside of you that needs goodness, love, kindness and poetry, it needs music and fierceness. It needs a passion crackling at times and rain to quell it at others.

These are normal things, balanced.…things.

The uncertainty of being able to live up to its need is the driving catalyst.

You cannot loathe that hole, you cannot fill it ever, all you can do is keep inspired and keep creating.

Keep generating energy even though they tell you it cannot be created nor destroyed, fine then, transmute it. But do something.

There’s no dark hole,
there’s no void you have to fill.

To imply so is falling prey to a lie,
a lie that tells you that you need stuff,
to satiate that void,
and it’s all just stuff.

-Wesam El dahabi

She should have never asked

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She asked me how I was.
Bad question to ask an introvert.

Long or short answer? …. Cacophony of words or mannered and pruned response…..

One has no punctuation,
grammar,
logic,
order,
and chronology.

It has no meter,
pause,
advance,
or retreat.

It has no introduction,
body,
or conclusion.

It has no theme,
context,
or background.

Coherency?
Unless your gifted with Aristotelian wisdom,
the Selflessness of Rumi,
and the prose of Khayam,
you’re not gonna’ understand a thing I am saying,
not that you’d want to anyway,
I probably sound like a freak unleashed.

Its semblance is of the schizophrenic….
on acid,
after snorting a line of Columbia’s finest,
on steroids,
fury unleashed without reservations……

Filters?
Fuck that measure of acceptability.

No holds barred,
zero fucks given,
balls to the wall,
pedal to the metal,

She’ll get my answer alright, my day has been full of questions, answers, thoughts, ponderings, meditations and struggles….voices

But then I thought,
Did she really mean it?
Did she really sincerely mean it when she asked how I was?

I guess I’m a liar because I replied “I’m well thanks”.
Truth is,
I wasn’t thankful,
I hated that she asked
and I wasn’t well.
She smiled and said “That’s good”,
and I continued the answer in my head.

-W.E.

Have you ever thought?

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Have you ever thought,

Asthma might be an allergy to breathing?
Because despite the ‘no, no there’s no proof’ from doctors,
my eyes don’t lie and my heart knows better,
this shit wasn’t as prevalent in my youth….
No, once every now and then you’d hear about an asthmatic.
Not every second child needed beta agonist’s
to do what their lungs were meant to do.
Not every second child was banned from having a peanut butter sandwich
because of fear they’d break out in a rash or worse choke from asphyxiation,

There’s that breathing again.

Wait stop, they can’t even be around a child that is having a peanut butter sandwich?
No they can’t even be around a child that didn’t have a peanut butter sandwich
but may have been around another child that had a peanut butter sandwich.
Have you ever thought about this?
Have you ever thought about why boys can’t even have a chocolate bar
even if it doesn’t have nuts in it but may have been produced in a factory that also processes food with nuts?

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!

Vaccination,
Medication,
Medicalisation,
Indoctrination,
Legalisation of forced inoculations,
Owned by corporations,
Creating patients of mass consummation,
Inflammation,
of organisms,
Brains and bellies and central nervous systems,
For what?
Sterilisation?
Control of population?
Americanisation?
Systemisation?
Engineering of civilisation?

It’s a scary situation.

Have you ever thought,

Blindness might be a mercy from seeing?
Because seeing bodies discarded and severed by shrapnel,
Is just as bad as swallowing
a capsule,
a mouth full ,
an ear full,
a gut full,
of hateful,
enticement through media rich-imagery that’s spiteful,
inciteful,
designed to excite you,
and at the same time scare you,
have you swayed like a pendulum, – un-remorseful,
No it’s not normal,
for it not to move you.
So what use are your eyes if this is what you see?
When they’re disconnected from the organ that inspires you,
to good, to beauty, to love, to sorrow, to pain, to forgiving… to you?

Have you ever thought,

Deafness is ease from hearing?
Listening to the gossip,
the lies,
the screams of what eyes,
were closed for but the ears could not escape,
the sound of souls extracted as death comes to take,
the innocent cries of motherless children taken in Gods sake,
the shrills of a woman being raped,
the sounds of fathers sobs over coffin drapes,
Its not a mistake,
the ears are not meant to partake,
in this senseless heartache,
this is stuff no soul should be burdened to take.

Have you ever thought,

That your thoughts were not yours,
Just rallied up scores,
Of effects and cause,
Like the deceit of the Moores,
April fools trickery of war,
Outlaws,
Mining your minds for flaws,
Just so their profit shares can soar,
To sell your habits like whores
To the highest bidder with more,
More money than clause,
So they can keep steering those thoughts,
as they please,
making you believe,
You’re free to conceive,
To achieve,
to retrieve,
Thinking memories you recollect are fact,
But if you retract
and delve a little deeper,
realise they planted that seed right from the start and you’ve been an asset,
a keeper
and been doing nothing more than responding to the carrot that’s dangled,
I can hear you all quip,
‘That’s a bit far fangled’.

Then again,

Have you ever thought?

-ME