The tragedy of conformity

It feels sometimes like a large portion of our life is out of our control. You are shaped by societies’ standards, the need to fit in, to be liked and to be admired. We all suffer from it. 

Life is an evolutionary process; I evolve a little bit each day. Sometimes, it’s a step back; Sometimes it’s a step forward, but most of my life I’ve spent getting to know myself. It’s why I don’t mind spending time alone. It really takes time alone to figure out the person that you are. If you are so wrapped up in the world and people and expectations how do you differentiate between yourself and the self that you’ve created for the world to see? So, I discover things about myself a bit each day and a lot of this I discover through my writings.  

In this post, I am going to share two poems. The first is a poem I wrote a few years ago. It is about how most of us are not living, but conforming. We are so consumed with what is expected of us that we don’t take time to really listen and really hear the things that we want for ourselves. Sometimes things get so twisted and it’s hard to decipher between what you actually want and what society wants for you. Who are you? I think everyone needs to ask themselves that or else you risk sacrificing yourself to the world. We are all guilty of this. No one is excluded.

The Suns mutual understanding  By: RRK

The world is but a place and life is just a box

Where we hide all our secrets from artists

Who capture it all in a portrait

I’m looking out of my window

The sun and I meet in understanding

We watch the silhouettes below moving blindly

It all seems like one big dance

This is our state of longing

I’m ashamed of its purity

I envy the burden of a dove

To symbolize love

I hear the song of the caged bird crying to be free

Lying and denying the caged bird is me

Sometimes I want to lend my eyes

So that you can see what I see

The death of our souls in its honesty

I dream of living. I dream of shores

I dream of never ending Aurora

I dream of cures, but most of all, I dream of love

I dream of eyes staring back at me

Sharing our souls honestly, peacefully

The second poem is a poem that I wrote recently. It is pretty much based on the same concept of the first poem. The first time we fail at something, fear is instilled and us and so our lives are based around this fear. It’s constraining and suffocating. It prevents most people from following their dreams and breaking through barriers and expectations. Enjoy. 

Fear                             By RRK

How does it start?

When you walk?

The first time you stand and fall

And are confronted with the pressure of it all?

And though you try again, you have inadvertently made a new friend

He stands there dark and tall,

A secret owned by all

 

He cuddles you in the night, whispering in your ear

That you are lucky to have him as a friend

And so you thought that he is right.

He keeps you safe from all that is fright.

So you lie for the sake of him

Play mute and compliant and forsake for him

Though drums are ringing in your ear

And the loudest silence screams for its release

You cannot shake this persistent beast.

Mute all feelings of wants and wishes

Desires, dreams even words of whisper

You’ve come undone.

Your dark friend will have no one

He reminds you that you must always be afraid

Afraid to touch, afraid to think

Afraid to love, afraid to create

Afraid to speak, afraid to be

You must be afraid of everything

He reminds you that he has give you the greatest gift

He has been alls most loyal friend. He has been your Fear.

And with your fear you shall become the most highly protected of them all

And as he grows, you shall become small

Hiding behind him

Eyes at the floor

Forbidden to see all the world offers

With shame and shy knocking at your door

And with his companionship, soon you will become hidden

Covering your head

So small to the world, so invisible, so dead

All the gratitude goes to your once small friend

Now tall and dark and handsome as he smiles

He has been your friend. He has kept you safe

He has made you so small you no longer exist

What will you become?

Surrounded by his gown

How will you let out your light?

How will you get back your sight?

How will you begin to fight?

How will you let go of the fear that haunts you at night?

Beware of artists

Wow! It's been two months since my last blog post. This isn't to say I haven't thought about posting. In fact, I've had a few things I've wanted to write and share. Alas, I have a case of pseudo-ADD so getting me to actually sit down and write these elaborate blog posts I think up in my head is actually a daunting task. I'd much rather be in my head.

So anyway, this will be a short post. I've been writing a lot more since being here. I think mostly because I actually have time to do it. As hard as it is to pull myself away from the books I get so lost in, writing is as much as a necessity for me as it is a freedom. I'm not going to say I'm exactly good at it. In fact, I am very insecure about the things I write which is why I rarely ever share it. Recently, I read this post on Facebook about ways to be happy. One of the things was to open up and let people in. I struggle with this because I am such a private person without even realizing it. I often wonder why it seems my closest friends and family don't know me that well and I realized it's because I don't let them. This is not on purpose, it's just that most of the time I am so wrapped up in my head I forget about the people outside of my world. They want to know me too. Sometimes, I feel like Einstein, not the genius part, but the recluse who was so wrapped up in his mind that he let his hair go wild. Let it be known that Einstein was a Pisces and an introvert so we have that in common. Anyway, in an attempt to share more, I've written this poem about writing. Currently, I am working on a few short stories and putting together a book with a collection of poems I've written in the last 5 years. I might share a few in this blog, so stay tuned :) Meanwhile, I've shared a poem below.

Be wary of artists    By:RRK

Beware of artists

For

Every artists is a little grumpy

Writers are no exception

All those words bursting in your mind

Writhing restless and begging

To be released from the prison they’ve been confined

Words waiting to be expressed and understood

Waiting  for a chance to warm hearts and be cruel

Writing is not a hobby, but a purging of the soul

It is the only way to be whole when drowning in words that demand to be heard

And words can do such wonders for the mending of a soul

For the body that is out of a body and lives in a dream

In a world where imagination is reality and dreams are key

And these words would not have meaning if not for the artists sacrifice

So when you read a book or a poem have sympathy for the authors’ plight

And do please admire the fight to put words on a page

That shed light

On the thoughts in your head that don’t seem right

But when put on a page give you sight

And nothing is like writing when words won’t be denied

Because when it’s all done

And you’ve got it all out

The mind is clear

The heart is settled

It’s as if you’ve cried

Be wary of artist, they test the soul

Be wary of writers and words that won’t be denied.

Lazy Saturday = Start a new blog

So this is how an intentional "Lazy Saturday" turns into a non-intentional " non lazy Saturday", thus resulting in the start of my first blog.

So today, I had a lazy Saturday. Not by choice actually, but by brokeness. I woke up this morning eager to skype with my best friend who I haven't talked to much since moving to Korea.

Oh that's right, I'm in Korea. Decided to do the whole living and teaching abroad thing. Not a bad life I have to say. You should try it.

Anyway, so I got up this morning eager to skype only to wait around for two hours. After two hours I came to terms with the fact I had been stood up. But then, I realized my best friend would never do that and the explanation would come tomorrow. So I went about my day, decided that I had nothing against spending the day in bed reading, eating an awesome mix of butter and consomme popcorn and checking Facebook to see how Mudfest was going. With my day planned out, I ordered some new books on my Kindle, fluffed my pillow, made a cup of tea and proceeded to carry out my self-proclaimed laze on top of lazy Saturday.


This went well for about four hours and then I finished the first book, got restless and decided my apartment could use a cleaning. So I set about cleaning and organizing. After this, I thought, now that my apartment is clean, I should put something in the fridge so at least it has some color. Currently, it was bare and white. So, I went to Lotte Mart (Korean Target) to pick up a meager amount of groceries (remember, I'm broke) to last until Thursday.

Deciding that was too much activity for a self-proclaimed lazy Saturday, I hopped back in bed and started on my second novel. That went well for a while, but my attention span is that of a gnat, thus my mind wandered and eventually settled upon the blank foam poster board I put up last weekend with the intention of starting a vision board.

Hey, why don't I work on that! All excited and determined, I went over, stood by it, stared, and realized I had no idea where to start. So, I fired up my computer, went on pinterest, but eventually got distracted by this purple folder I had brought with me from the States. Hmmm, I wonder what's in the that? Yeh, so needless to say, I looked through the folder and realized there was a bunch of important stuff in there I forgot I brought with me,  including my Microsoft Office product key. Yeah baby!  Long story short, for the last 5 months I haven't had Microsoft Office on my laptop thinking I left all the info back in the States. Most of the time, that's ok, but currently, I am backed up with work, planning three summer camps, catching up on lesson plans and also planning next semesters syllabus. So I was extremely happy when I found this.

In my excitement, I started going through my old flash drives, organizing and reading through some of the old stories, poems and other things I've written. Then, because my attention span is so short, I thought hey, why not start a blog. I debated on whether or not I wanted to keep it private or not; Sometimes I just like to write for myself. In fact, I can't think of anyone that has read anything I've written, save my aunt and sister who read the stuff written during my childhood.

Alas, I decided on a public blog, because what's the point of a blog if you're the only one who's gonna read it.  

So, it's 8:00p.m and I'm writing my first blog post about a lazy yet not so lazy boring day. Maybe, I needed this day. It forced me to start something I had been contemplating, gave me time to work on my short stories and writing, and my vision board. Maybe it didn't go as I intended, but I'm happy this day wasn't was lazy as I planned.

With that being said, the rest of the night is dedicated to my kindle and a bucket of fried chicken.