Another Year for Renee

I know it's over a month since the anniversary of your passing but I did write this near the day and just haven't posted it until now.

Just

Just let me live

Please, just let me

Let me just avoid

A permanent lethargy

I want to eat when I’m hungry

Drink my way into a good night

Hear the sound of a woman’s breath

as we lay side by side

Let me find comfort

Let me find joy

Let me be the hero

in a child’s story

Let me live today

and carry it to tomorrow

Let me live because you can’t

Let me forget this sorrow

I’ve seen people torn

Ripped apart by life

Guts splattered on the floor

Mercy holding the knife

I’ve seen depression overtaking

souls that had happiness

I’ve seen the cave go darker

individuality dead to the masses

I’ve seen you on my doorstep

years down your face

crying for me to come back

a ghost accenting my disgrace

Afraid of what you are

and uncertain of what I am

Please, just let me live

because Death, she can’t

A New Poem for a New Year

“Doing As You’re Told”

They told me to be silly

And I let myself go

Would burst with energy

Avoid any lows

They told me to be funny

And so I learned a few jokes

Found humor in bad puns

And wrote fun birthday notes

They told me to be smart

And I achieved the grades

Studied and was astute

Never sacrificing for the pay

They told me to be strong

And I sewed up negativity

I performed a tearless roll

And kept a level of brevity

They told me I needed to feel

And so I released a little

Expressed a few feelings

They said I was too brittle

They told me to be honest

And I gave them the truth

Then they got angry

Said my tongue was too loose

They told me they’d miss me

While I wait for a call

An answer to my message

A sign they knew me at all

They told me to never fear

As I’m terrified by society

I fear the human race

I fear what’s inside me

They told me everything

And I learned to listen

Paid attention to the words

That no longer had a mission

They told me nothing

Since they never acted

They told me nothing

And I never asked for it

Something a Little More Lyrical

Here’s something I wrote while at work yesterday. I’m starting to realize that I seem very negative about our generation but I’m really not. At least, I don’t think we’re any worse than any other generation. But that doesn’t mean we still can’t be better. So, here are a few of my thoughts on the matter.

Our Stride

We hit our stride in immaturity
Void of knowledge, full of purity
We think we know the price of certainty
But we’re in debt to future mistakes

Thinking we’ve seen all the options
We are only making assumptions
But still we have all this gumption
How quickly the fuel runs out

We feel so young, feel so right
But we don’t have any sight
We could stand to be a bit contrite
But then we’d have to think

I’m not sure about our evolution
Finding our prime with no conclusions
We love our games, forget solutions
The world can fix itself

We’re all for love, don’t value loss
We’ll put complications on the cross
Just nail our hands, blame the boss
While we’re bleeding to simplify

We’ll murder the old, frame the young
The word of God on Loki’s tongue
All the songs have been sung
But we still think we’re original

There’s a similarity in our time
Roman ideology, entertainment’s prime
We’ll waste away in consuming grime
And we’ll be sacked just like the Fall

Sure we’re happy, or at least we think
Vacant minds let intelligence shrink
And though our lives may fill with stink
At least we have the virtual

And so we’re done with all this talk
Pretend to accomplish then we balk
Glorify individuals but join the flock
We never judge the guilty

A Game

I keep playing this game, maybe you know of it. I sit around and watch movies, maybe good television, and I find ways of relating them to you. The romantic comedies and dramas are pretty easy. Sometimes I’ll add in a little challenge with some absurdist piece or an episode of BSG. The goal of the game, as all games need a point, is to fall in love with you. To fall in love with you and motivate myself to tell you. I’ve been playing it for a while, I’ll put the number around 2 years, and the interesting fact, as I’m sure you’re about to guess, is that I’ve never won this game. If I had, I probably wouldn’t be writing this. There must be some irony in never winning a game you invented, though I’m sure many other idiots along the way have played something similar if not exactly the same. Maybe I could start a group. A little online community where we all play a game together none of us has a chance in Hell of winning. It’ll be kind of like an AA meeting but just filled with some saps who need to get over themselves and realize that things will never get better by remaining on the couch. Sure, the pizza is good and there are some really funny threads or memes to read, but you’re basically just chewing on a twenty-five cent gumball. Of course, me putting this down in poetry makes me the biggest sap. But, then again, I suppose the group will need a president. A sappy leader. If I’m going to make myself depressed, I might as well be around enablers.  It’ll make me feel better. And then make me feel more sad when I’m alone. That could be another game. How sad can I make myself about being sad? Maybe I can turn these into board games. Make a little money on the side with my depression, especially since being a poet doesn’t really do it. I’ll just make a sad salary. The money won’t make me happy but I’ll be able to continue my Netflix subscription so I can watch more movies and television as a way of thinking of you. So. That’s a plus.

Remembrance

Every year on July 2nd, I write a poem, sometimes two. I write them as a reminder and a remembrance of someone I care about very much. She passed away on July 2nd 2010. Her name was Renee Michelle Rhodes and she was my best friend until I stupidly let someone get in the way of that. The poems are a way for me to express things that I don’t normally express out loud and a way of helping me confront myself. Here’s one I wrote at the bus stop today.

We have so little time.
Deadlines for work, papers due,
Exam studying, catching the bus.
Schedules make us feel in control of relativity.

We have so little time.
Rehearsals and bills to pay,
Waiting for promotions or lay-offs.
Money is just an idea.

We have so little time
And you grabbed me in seconds,
A race into friendship.
I never understood your smiles.

We have so little time.
We waste it staring at clocks,
Digitized information, and virtuality.
You had a strange and wonderful warmth.

We have so little time.
Fixated on what I could’ve done,
Regret puts me in fast forward.
Death takes away second chances.

We have so little time.
Across the country, now, I look back,
realizing why they call the mountains blue.
I hope my sadness can combine with another.

We have so little time
And you barely lived past twenty.
I hope angels did lead you in
But I’m not religious, like you.

We have so little time.
I have nothing of yours.
I should’ve kept a loving reminder.
I’ll frame my mistakes for nostalgia.

We have so little time.
And it seems I’ve already fucked it up.
I think fondly of the nights you cried, sharing
And trusting me. I should’ve known better but

We had so little time.

Rehearsals and Being Finite

Sometimes I forget how wonderful rehearsals can be. You get so used to just thinking about performing the show that you put aside the absolute joy of working on a play. Or sometimes you're just going around from audition to audition never getting cast so you forget about the wonders of rehearsals as you're just clawing around Seattle looking for a gig. I digress.

As you may know, I was cast in the Live Girls! Theater production of Quickies, a one-act play festival they do every year. I am to perform in the play "Leap" by Joy McCulloough-Carranza. Needless to say (though I'll say it anyway), this is a wonderful short piece where I do a magnificent job. Obviously. (Pssst, this is just feint cockiness) For this role, I get to play a 12 year-old boy named Sam and the other two actors, who are also quite talented, are also children.

Being that the characters are kids, our director, Ashley Flannegan, decided to try and branch us out a bit with exercises. Julia Beers, our AD, led us through some terrific little exploration pieces that hearkened back to my college days, oh, so long ago (about 3 or 4 years). We threw hacky-sacks around, explored different centers by imagining a light within our body, and created a silent piece that involved climbing chairs and building little forts. If this all sounds strange, then you've probably never taken an acting class.

I forgot how freeing these exercises can be. I'm not really one for meditation or prayer (especially if you read my last post) so these exercises are really what help center me. They allow me to let go of silly problems and just exist, even for just a few moments. You completely come out of yourself and willingly walk in someone else's skin. You move differently, think differently, speak differently and it reminds you how human everyone is. With social media and Twitter, I think we forget that there are real people with real thoughts and real emotions on the other end of the screen.

We held our second rehearsal just a couple of nights ago and we were more straightforward about it, as we worked on blocking the play. But still, that idea of exploring something new and freeing yourself from menial troubles still remained. Sometimes it's even therapeutic for problems that have more substance.

I found out about thirty minutes before my rehearsal began that the mom of my ex-girlfriend died. She was a great woman who kept in touch with me and helped me with my move to Seattle even after I broke up with her daughter (If that isn't saintly then I don't know what is). This loss isn't the worse that I've had but I was deeply saddened to have such a wonderful person no longer existing. It was a passing that I didn't know was near and if she was still around, I would give her a much bigger "thank you" than I did before.

Through the magic of rehearsal and theatre, however, I was able to work out some of this sadness. I was able to step outside of myself and consider the problem and the finiteness of someone else. By being within this character's skin, I could find the center within myself too. People harp on actors for either being self-centered or as people who willingly lie to crowds of people by pretending to be someone else. I won't deny that being self-centered can be an occupational hazard with acting as you get accustomed to people watching you and praising your ability. But actors are not liars. Not the true ones, anyway. Real actors like to delve into humanity, no matter how shitty, and find meaning. We like to discover and create something that has a positive impact on the audience and ourselves. Along with directors, designers, techies, stage-hands, we try to move society in a forward motion to that ever elusive Truth. (Unless you get too swept up in Broadway musicals)

Anyway, what I guess I'm trying to get to, a bottom-line, is that we all have things that keep us grounded and sane. Theatre is my sanity. Even when the exercises seem ridiculous and even if you have those frustrating times where you don't seem to be improving, I wouldn't give it up for anything.

Also, you get to work on fun shows that are called "Quickies" so you know it will be a good time (or at least expedited). That's my little thought for the day, however inconsequential it may be.

Fuck God: A Conversation

Preface: This is something that I wrote a few years ago. I was on a plane for Seattle to visit my friends Michi and Amanda. It was just an idea that I thought about and I think it's kind of interesting now because some of it is part of my personal philosophy, now. I'm even working on a play that works through some of these themes. Don't worry, this isn't attacking anybody or trying to put down a religion. It's just a conversation. A thought. I kept it as I wrote it those few years ago, besides a few grammatical changes, so you can get an idea of where I was in my thinking. This writing was also done quickly so if it doesn't seem fleshed out or fully explained, it isn't. That being said, please read and enjoy.

Fuck God: A Conversation

Why can't we just believe in ourselves? We're always looking for an out. For meaning beyond because we can't find meaning in ourselves. Or, if we look for meaning in our own existence then the best we come up with is to be happy. That's it. So, it becomes an independent game where my happiness matters so I can screw over whoever is in my path. "It's about my happiness! I wasn't happy so I left here with the kids." Then we forget the responsibilities. We don't need God to be moral people but we need to remember to be moral because there are people. It's not just about my happiness but others' as well.

We're not talking Utilitarian ideas of "greater good" but just that sometimes others need to be considered. Sometimes there are responsibilities. God is only hindering because the laws are too strict. You can't move. Also, you begin to feel guilty for being happy, like suffering is part of the plan. That's bogus. We make our own suffering. Pain will always come in our lives but we make ourselves suffer. We mull over the details and forget we aren't the only person in the Universe with issues. God makes us suffer, or rather the idea of him that we made up because we wanted people to suffer. Because we got too rampant and too frugal. We needed to suffer to come down a notch. The Romans we're too free, they must suffer. Or, we found hardship so we made ourselves the "chosen" by God and the hardship came along with the prestige. We only suffer because maybe someone will say, "Poor baby." I think it's an instinct, or perhaps a social product but I can't tell. If it's a product of our society then it started long before I existed.

I say "Fuck God" because what we've designed him to be is something that holds us back. He makes us look to the beyond so much that we forget the present. He makes us feel like someone else has control so we don't need to steer. We need to steer. Maybe I should say "Forget God" but that didn't seem as powerful, as eye catching as the word "fuck" does. We put so much meaning in such a small word just like we give so much meaning to what doesn't exist, at least not the way we've molded him. Maybe there's some sort of higher power but it would just be a being with power, not almighty and not perfect.

It's not about personal pleasure, though we should have some and enjoy it. It's about making things better for everyone. It's about getting rid of the prejudice that comes with organization. It's about taking the individual as just that, with no other outside perceptions or ideas. Just, "Hello, what's your name? Pleased to meet you." Simpler. Happier. Equal. It's about being able to breathe and helping others to breathe.

God is just a nuisance, something that holds us back more than an overprotective parent. By organizing around ideas and creating unnecessary rules and laws, we just distort messages from great thinkers and turn them into religion. We naturally organize but maybe we shouldn't. We're evolutionary beings, aren't we? Organizing makes us feel good: "There's someone who shares in what I like." That idea itself is good but when you begin to shut others out because they don't organize the same way, then you've delved into wrong. That's what we do. God is just another organization that we came up with but because we gave him ultimate power, we lost the control. Suddenly, an unanswerable nonexistent being controlled our fate. We gave power to nothing but that nothing became everything and if you don't believe in it then "you're a sinner and will suffer for eternity. I may suffer in this life as God wills but you will suffer for ever!" It's all crud.