MP #5 – Identity

Don’t ever let anyone define you.
Don’t accept anyone else’s ideal as your own.
Do not let anyone, let you think,
you are anything other than what you feel.

Do not ever take yourself for granted,
because you have the ability,
to be powerful beyond anyone else’s comprehension.
Don’t let others, let you believe otherwise.

Don’t be worried, that you haven’t figured yourself out.
Don’t be scared, that you haven’t found your purpose.
Your existence, should be all the purpose you need.
Never devalue your thought processes,
your opinions, your beliefs.

Allow no one to take away your dreams. Not even yourself.

Believe in achieving the impossible,
because it will force you to work harder.
Remember that somewhere,
someone has done what you want to do –
but YOU haven’t.
As long as YOU are there, and YOU are doing it,
you are original.
You are the best YOU, anyone could ever be.

Do not let trends and fads shape your identity,
let your ambition and your talents, shape it.
And never, ever, say you don’t have a talent.
You do, you just haven’t discovered it yet.

It is okay to be you, in a world where it seems,
‘you’, is everything you don’t want to be.
But without you, there’s no them.
Without them, there’s no us.
Without us, there’s no existence.

No one should ever undermine you,
because you are everything that keeps our eyes open.
We don’t exist, without your existence.

So, believe in you.


These Words.

Listen to the spoken word version (HERE) and read along:

These words of mine.
Spend tonight as typed words.
It’s quicker.
Easier to edit.
Hit backspace and hold.
Of these words that are in my mind.
That I don’t speak and say aloud.
Because I don’t need to.
Rather I write them.
Type them, without uttering a sound.
But these are my words.
And I speak them,
because I read them in my voice.
But I never allow,
my lips to move for a moment.
As to distract me,
from these words of mine.

The purpose of words,
is to speak with a voice.
To get these words heard,
but I don’t even whisper.
So if these words stay silent,
and are never voiced.
Are they really my words?
If I don’t ever speak them.

If the only sound you can barely hear,
is the sound of my breath,
and my fingers tapping away at the laptop.
Would you peek over my shoulder?
Or would you wait, for me to recite something?
Would you ask me? Because if you did,
I would probably read this to you.
But, what if you never ask?

See, as these words formulate in my mind,
a vision them overshadows the written,
into a context where I see,
and I absorb. I stop, and let things in.
How can I put such indescribable visions,
into words.
And if I could, how could people understand.
Fear of being subjective.
Fear of letting these words paint a picture,
that for some reason,
looks like a different painting in the minds of everyone else.

These words I believe can change our lives,
but we don’t give them the time of day,
because our words are usually discarded,
for other words that try to be realistic about life.
In other words, I have to refrain from art.
To chase up a version of reality,
that others deem acceptable in a world where,
you’re only as good as your last hit,
and you’re only as wealthy as your last cheque,
Because you’re only as intelligent as your degree reads,
and you’re only as visible as, you let your self be.

But this is where I discard no more.
I absorbed everything around me,
and allowed it to be everything about me,
And now these words have more fuel behind them,
and more deftness and wittiness,
and intelligence backed up with endless references,
based on why we need to be the best that we can be.

You see, these words can have the power to do anything.
To overthrow kingdoms, to challenge laws,
to remove hatred, to empower the oppressed.
To build movements, to achieve excellence.
To silence critics, to spread positive energy,
to energise the weak, to save the world..

To speak volumes.

These words, are your words.

– So, what are you gonna do to change the world?

Jaded Peace.

Feeling troubled in a relaxed state.
As if my entire being is conflicted with.. being conflicted.
Hearing silence in screams,
and echoes in a vacuum.
And peace in chaos, and emptiness when filled.

As if the glass isn’t half-full, but it’s not half-empty.
It’s, half. Of the other half.
And without each other, they wouldn’t exist.

Broken phones, with the clearest sound.
Broken voices, speak loud.
Louder than bellows and bombs, and terrorist threats,
and bombs, and accusations, and bombs,
and dying people, and us.

We kill,
without intending. Or, at least, you believe that,
they don’t deliberately, intend to spin media to suit..

We’re at war with each other, at ourselves.
Ourselves are at war with others that are at war,
with themselves.
And we do nothing to mend, but everything to
antagonise. And we always, always, get a chain reaction.
Because that’s how we function.

We destroy the world, and only once our actions,
are reciprocated on us,
do we wish we mended, instead of antagonise.
And only when it suits us, will we see that.
And only when it’s too late.
Will we see that.
We are our own enemies.
Because we put everything we love at risk,
by forgetting what Peace is.
And by neglecting our fellow man,
because to you, they are not your fellow man.
But a man below, the fellows.
A man deemed unworthy of the fellows,
due to societal tags bestowed upon him,
by the fellows.

An equality that has never been too equal.
A purpose that has never been deemed purposeful.
A state in which we kill to create,
we destroy to rebuild. We rest in chaos,
because this world was made by man,
and destroyed by us.

I decoded this poem via Rap Genius, check it out:

MP #4 – Writer’s Block.. Blah.

Clean Your Workspace!

Clean Your Workspace!

This post contains explicit language. Do not operate heavy machinery whilst skim-reading. 

Writer’s Block: the beautiful struggle to materialise ideas whilst dealing with everything you could possibly hate to be dealing with.

Add that to the fact you’re most probably writing towards the end of your busy-as-hell day, with little to no energy.
Irony falls, as you’ve just backed your 6th cup of stale coffee
(or the sixth can of Red Bull if you’ve a distaste for warmth. You cold-blooded infidels).
A couple hours of thumb-twiddling, Facebook-roaming, Twitter-ranting, and
finding-something-healthy-to-eat-by-staring-aimlessly-at-an-empty-fridge-whilst-you-should-really-be-asleep later, you decide to call an end to an unproductive night.

Me: Lord, it’s so frustrating!
Them: (Don’t blaspheme!)
Me: I’m not even religious?
Them: (It may offend others that read this)
Me: How?! It’s not exactly offensive.
Them: (But it’s politically incorrect)
Me: Wait, wha.. oh, just fuck off already.

Alas, we have Problem #1 – External Opinions

As writers, we put our hearts and souls on paper,
knowing how easily that paper can get discarded.
It’s a scary thought to know the emotion and experiences you’ve gone through can (and often will) be judged so fickly.
It’s a unique feeling, that specific kind of vulnerability.

“Too self-conscious. They tell you to write for an audience, but sometimes you need to get back to writing for yourself – without judgement.”Bee, Mysterious (and Awesome) Tweeter.

Problema Número Dos – Yourself

Sometimes, we couldn’t care less about what the outside world thinks.
After all, this may be something you’re writing for yourself, and only yourself.
It’s a form of stress-release, and can unlock hidden emotions.
This – in some cases – can be more petrifying than publishing!

“I don’t want to feel in a dark place so I avoid the dark writing I have to do.”Sacha Wise, Spoken Word Poet. She also shared another gem, “not wanting to start something I can’t finish… I don’t start it until I am in the head space to be able to finish it.” 

Incredibly insightful, Stephe Meloy added: “When I was younger, I tried to control it [creativity] rather than harness it and that invariably blocked the very flow I was trying to maintain.” Ah, Zen.

Bad moods, lack of inspiration, restrictions and lack of coffee (I see you, Hiral) are common reasons for why Writer’s Block may settle. Note: procrastination isn’t usually a cause of writer’s block. Procrastination is usually a cause of procrastination.

Problem Tree – Frustration (think about it visually, the tree)

Everything whittles down to this one, bastard, thing.
Through frustration we force ourselves to get something done.
It’s vicious, because the needlessly added pressure,
makes writing that much harder.
Never allow yourself to get sucked into that.

I’ve gathered a few pointers to help keep Writer’s Block at Bay. Now there’s a great self-help book, if you’ve ever heard one:

  • Step Away: if you’re struggling, don’t touch it until you feel you’re ready to. Do anything and everything to take your mind off of it: go for a walk, make food, watch mindless television or films, call someone that makes you laugh.
  • Lose The Time Limit: don’t look to ‘get back to it soon’. Just leave it in its entirety. This doesn’t mean you’re giving up! You’re just continuing when you’re in a better frame of mind.
  • Drink Tea (or Coffee): seriously. If you don’t like it, drink it until you get accustomed. Very therapeutic, very earthly, very Zen.
  • Create A Framework, and Don’t Seek Perfection: when getting caught up in writing, we often stray from the point (which leads to frustration, which leads to not being able to finish it). Write the aim/point of your piece at the top of each page.
  • Clean Your Workspace: cluttered environment, cluttered mind (see above image).
  • “Never be a third party evaluating whether your work is good or bad.” – Joel Hirschhorn.
  • Appreciate Your Talent: you have the ability to write, creatively and expressively. Don’t let anything or anyone stifle that. There are millions of people that would kill to write like you, so never doubt yourself. Ever.
  • Lose Needlessness: is there any reason for the Facebook tab to be open? Tumblr? Twitter? Pinterest? Instagram? Why is your phone even in this scenario? Why are you reading this! Oh, wait. Never mind.

If all else fails, just switch off for a while. If you’re writing to a deadline… have some more coffee.