Limited

Limited

Living in a world
where passion is
limited.
We monitor our words
and fear we may speak
too openly.

Taking our voice,
our opinions, our feelings,
and smothering them.
We encapsulate them,
deep beneath the surface
of our being.
In a box we hide them,
afraid to let the world
inside.

Intimidated by societal standards;
general “rules” on how
we are supposed to behave.
Shaping ourselves,
and forming our lives around
the approvals of those that
don’t matter in our lives.

We dissect ourselves,
meticulously ripping apart who we are.
Cut open and exposed,
we’ll remove the part that cares,
then quickly take out our incentive to
love unconditionally.
We’ll see a part of ourselves
that makes us stand out,
a trait specifically designed
to make us unique,
and we’ll strip it from inside our bodies.

Once shaped and formed
to fit within the
standards of the world
we’ll stitch ourselves up,
trying to hide the scar.

it is then that we realize
We are empty.
We have no sense of self.
no way to stand out
in a world
filled with stereotypes.
Considering,
all too late that,
in forming our lives,
our beliefs, and our personalities,
we have removed our very
source of happiness.
You have removed…
You.

I Win

I Win

I see your face
through the scope
of my gun.
White with fear,
as your life
inevitably flashes before your eyes.
I pull the trigger,
as I envision who you were
before this.
You fall.

I’ve ended your life,
but who am I?
Why do I get to live?
Had I not killed you,
then, surely, I
would have died.
But does that make my actions
justified?

I see your blood splatter,
and your face
change to a cringe
I hear your cry…
And you hit the ground.
Your blood turns the dirt
to a red form of mud
as you turn to the skies,
I realize I’ve won.

I’ve won another face off.
I’ll get to live another day,
but can I live
with myself?
with this guilt?

What if you
had a family,
a little baby boy?
What if you were an only child,
your mother’s source of joy?

What makes me so special,
that I continue to
live on?
What makes me so different,
when I’m just another man
with a gun?

I’m not sure I
want to live
with such a weight
on my heart.
Maybe that’s why I’m here:
To accept that
I’ve played my part.

I signed my name,
and claimed to be ready.
I held my gun
and thought it would be easy.

Then I saw
the look in your eyes,
and I pulled back
my index finger.
I out-smarted my
opponent.
But I don’t feel like I’ve won.
I’ll continue to live on,
as I’m pushed down
by the weight of
what I’ve done.

Make a Choice

Who do you want to be? How do you want to live your life?

Simple to ask, but not so simple to answer. Its undeniably true that we spend most of our lives trying to discover who we want to be. And once we feel like we've finally figured it out...we change our minds and start over.

The events in our lives that shape us have such a detrimental affect on who we become. It's so important that we don't allow ourselves to become bitter or angry over bad situations that may occur.

Something I have realized, over the years, is that when people allow themselves to become bitter or angry, and hold those emotions inside, it affects their very character. They are never entirely the same individual, or friend, they were before they were placed in whatever situation. It's crazy to me to think that things can change people so much.

I say it often, and I'll say it again: happiness is a choice. I understand that things happen in our lives that bring us down, but we choose to stay down. If someone wants to be happy, I believe they can be. It doesn't take a miracle or an "emotionally strong" person to remain happy in difficult or trying times. It simply takes the will to be happy, to not wallow, and to look at life enthusiastically and with a hint of humor.

I can't think of a day in my life that I haven't laughed. Even when it seems like my world is somehow going to blow up, burn down, and knock me out in the process, I can guarantee there was at least a brief moment in that day where I smiled and laughed. Those are the moments that make that day worth while. Something was able to make me feel joyful.

It's so simple for people to remember the bad times in our lives. It's a completely psychological thing. Those events are "traumatic" to some extent, and we remember how bad they made us feel, so we never forget them. That is, I believe, the underlying problem with how sad people become. We dwell, all too much, in our lives and refuse to focus on more positive things. Our minds, when we are struggling, take us back to EVERY other time we have felt that way, and we begin to feel like "nothing ever goes right" and as if our lives are horrendous.

The reality of it is, everyone has the life that they choose for themselves, at a certain point. No, you don't decide what your childhood will be like, or was like, but once you reach adulthood... It's entirely up to you. So what will it be?

You decide how to live your life, and how to make yourself happy. You can be overly serious, or enjoy a few jokes and learn how to see the humor in every situation--even the hard ones. Make decisions that make you feel happy and satisfied, don't take life too seriously, and enjoy the unexpected moments when someone makes you smile when you felt like you couldn't.

CHOOSE to be happy, and in being happy you will discover who you are and who you want to be.

Cheers. ;)