Apps, Happiness, and the Quest for Peace

5 Jan

I have apps on my phone and tablet that tell me to record my happiness so I can keep it in the forefront of my mind.  I kept up with the process of recording my happiness but my effort dwindled. Now I find the reminder from my “happy app” annoying, and when I see it pop up I feel like I suck because I am not writing down how happy I am. It can feel like I am not trying to be happy, like I am not working at it. I don’t know if I have ever worked at something so hard in my life.
I am not complaining. I am merely expressing my confusion. Happiness is a state that is natural yet it seems like as a species we are obsessed with finding it and securing it, while we may not even fully understand it. Safety and happiness are not the same, although it seems often the two are considered synonomous.

I have spent years documenting my thoughts and feelings in this format. As I have been away from this medium for a while I have needed to assess what my motivation is here. Being a private person has been a point of contention while I have kept this blog. I find that I am less and less inclined to want to write about myself or the events in the past, which is what the bulk of this blog has been. In short, I am sick of writing about myself, about the traumatic events I encountered, and conflicts that have risen as I have tried to reprogram my mind. I suppose my focus has shifted. This is not a resolution or result of some bullshit obligation because of the new year. Since the activity of the winter holidays has dissipated I have had time to regard my feelings and found I am no longer interested in documenting how I deal with the world as a person with complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I would rather focus my efforts on helping the world heal (myself included), and maybe share my experiences in creating a life of peace and beauty.

I cannot avoid documenting for that seems to be a successful method for me to process information, however, I am choosing to document different things. I am not so hell bent on undoing what has been done because I see that it has given me gifts. I have had an interest in social issues since I can remember, so I will most likely turn my lens that direction in future posts, or other random shit that is fun and/or fascinating, like Buddhism, subcultures, societal evolution, and compassion. Maybe even a recipe. Hardy har har…

Have a great day.     

Avoidance, Atrophy, and Asshole Behavior.

15 Dec

I don’t know where to begin or what to say. I don’t know why I am writing at all really, because I don’t want to talk about much. Saddened is a term that fits, as well as disappointment, and a discomfort with opening myself. I am afraid that the world is too careless to be trusted with my sensitivity. It isn’t based in the time of year at all, which is a nice change. I feel like it is a mistake to trust that when I leave my home that I will be treated as a human being. I feel it is erroneous to believe that I will be treated with dignity and respect, so I don’t want to interact with that. This has led to great avoidance in some areas and anxiety.
In a sense I feel as though I should know better than to expect decency, but simultaneously I feel that I have a right to be viewed as an autonomous being. This has led to quite a conundrum. I do not want to be consistently disappointed, so I guess I have to stop expecting decency. However, I feel like that is not acceptable, because I truly believe people are good. I feel like wanting fair treatment and expecting fair treatment are two very different things. Wanting fairness doesn’t put me in a position where being let down is as crushing, but expecting does. I suppose the lesson here could be that expectations suck.
Just because I think it is important to be kind doesn’t mean others do. That realization hurts.

Danny the Dog

3 Dec

When you no longer know who you are without your pain.

Unnecessary Evils.

3 Dec

It’s another day. I feel so much but really the way to describe it is  elusive. I lack the desire to chase it. So let it sit as it is, out of my grasp. There are plenty of pills to keep my chest from tightening, so I let myself function within that form. After processing and being processed, my humanity has to disconnect for a period. A part of me feels betrayed, a part of me wants to weep, and I cannot connect to those parts. I am weary of statements about my fucking feelings, probably because I am weary of feeling so much.
I am worn out by the world.
Why do we live in fear?

Ironed Out.

27 Nov

I keep wondering what time it is
Thinking night is around the corner
The sky has clouded up and
Hidden the sun away.

There’s something about too many
Cloudy days that feels eerily
Like being around too many people,
Suffocating and overarching.

Maybe that’s not the case for
Extroverts, who are said to be
Able to socialize without preparing
For 3 days beforehand.

I have cartography in my blood
Since I map out most things,
Although seldom do my documents
Provide accuracy in the present.

The years that have been before
Left scars on my lenses and
Distortion was inherent, leaving
Me to question my sight.

I still need days to call in sick to
The ritual of being a thoughtful guest
And shopper because I can’t stay
Folded up into a dollar bill forever.

I have made a place where I can
Undo all the creases left behind by
The scars and folds, however,
My maps aren’t worth shit.

I’m Not Buying It.

26 Nov

The wind is blowing hard
It gives the illusion of being cold
Yet it is warm, but still,
Getting dust in my eyes is a deterrent.

I have refrained from dipping
Into my checking account
On this holiest of shopping days
So that I may be blasphemous.

I will not stand in honor of
Unnecessary goods to fill the void
Nor will I bow to unbelievable
Savings and incentive values

I seem to be failing as a
Consumer since the newest toys
Leave me vacant, further saddened
By the futility of acquisition.

Twinkling lights and shiny new
Credit cards are loosed to display
Commitment to the cause of a
Shared mania infused with greed.

It’s a bit abstract, don’t you think,
This ritual of shiny objects going back
And forth because a baby was born
In a barn, before barns existed?

I’m not sure how the tree fits in
To this either, or how it really went
Down between the Pilgrims and
The Indians a month earlier.

Asking questions like these can
Cause some confusion because the next
Thing you know, you’re asking why
Some feast while others starve.

Maybe one day it will make sense to me
Not because I find merit in the way it
Works, but because it will no
Longer work that way.

Monsoon Season.

22 Nov

The skies keep pouring their hearts out
Daily but that is winter here
The sun playing hide and seek and
A cool evening after intermittent showers.

Strange how a week or ten days
Of cloud cover with sporadic swells
Makes it easy to wake up distressed or
Maybe the better word would be teetering,

Back and forth on a precipice
Hoping that the sun will emerge
Or that the second cup of coffee will
Turn up the corners of my mouth.

I stare at the sea riveted by the
Undulations of the white caps while
The clouds again congregate making
Up their minds to form anvils.

So it is left to me to determine
If I see teapots and bunny ears in
The masses floating above my head
Or wielders of wet gloom.

Antigone Awakens

Occasionally sarcastic commentary on all things related to women's rights from a policy advocate, grassroots organizer, and sometimes attorney

Poetry by AJ O'Brien.

AJ O'Brien's poems. Dark poetry. Free verse. Haiku. Tanka. Flash fiction.


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