Archive for the ‘Self-esteem’ Category

“Every intelligent individual wants to know what makes him tick, and yet is at once fascinated and frustrated by the fact that oneself is the most difficult of all things to know.” – Alan Watts

I don’t know who I really am. In fact I don’t even know how to describe where I am at this exact moment. My mind is foggy… just as Venus is trapped in a reverse green house effect. My intelligence and cognitive functioning gets trapped in the atmosphere, there is no reprieve from suffering, trapped and unable to escape.

In time everything is cooked. Water evaporates with nowhere to go. Gases formed toxicity of death. Mymind is Venus’s mirror the history of our solar system being replayed and recreated within my mind. A reverse Greenhouse effect of the psyche. Everything’s chaotic so many intense feelings, emotions, and just fucking everything.

Where once Venus supported life, my mind as well promoted life by feeling all this hurt and pain purged from my mind and released into the empty space of passing and forgotten thoughts. The chaotic intensity so vivid and crazy is unable to escaped. Trapping the madness and depression cooking my very being, evaporating hope and happiness with only chaotic Insanity. Rational gases of Doubt anxiety fear sadness take over my mental planets the ability to verbalize or explain, the ability to ask for help to be happy to have hope is just as trapped. I am toxic and just as lifeless… as Venus

It’s been awhile since I wrote Graceful Dancing, ideally I would like to say my life has improved, unfortunately logic proves in an ideal reality the word or concept of ideal wouldn’t exist. Therefore ideally is linguistically a lie wrapped in other linguistic lies such as hope or faith. We need to find some comfort no matter how delusional in order to cope with the reality in which we live.

Reality is a ruthless bitch who shows no mercy to the inhabitants of our vast universe. For the millions of people who are swollowed by reality there are millions who overcome and thrive. I have attempted to thrive in the reality I exist, but have been fractured within her madness. The most recent is being evicted, I am unsure how to make it through this one.

Those of you who have been reading my words know the various dreams and aspirations I have had, unfortunately you know I failed. Ever since chaos invaded my only safe place my life has unraveled and shattered into a million pieces. I still hold onto delusional dreams of being more than I am. It’s the only beacon of light in a world of darkness. Throughout the nightmares, within fractured chaos something has slowly emerged into my dream becoming true.

I have become codependent on this dream. The website is almost up. I will be starting a new blog on WordPress and another on YouTube. Once the website is up the printing options available will increase ten fold. But it still needs to go live which who knows if that will happen. My urgency to obtain curency is my top priority. I have turned to Facebook and offering coupon codes for those who like my page to get coupons for 50% to 75% off the entire store. Desperate times my friends.. for those of you who suffer subscribe to this blog I will cross post for awhile until everyone has subscribed to the new blog.

I have to try to keep out of the darkness. I have been to the hospital far to many times this year.

Graceful Dancing

Posted: May 16, 2015 in Absolute Truth, Abuse, Aging, America, Anxiety, Arguments, Atheism, Atheist, Bi-Polar, Bible, Blog, Blogging, Books, Brainwashed, Change, Charity, Charity Foundations, Christianity, Church, Community, Confessions, Coping, Corporate Culture, Crisis, Crooked Politicians, Culture, Death, Debates, Depression, Diary, Dilemma, Dreams, Duty of Care, Dying, Elderly, Emotional Abuse, Epic Battle, Ethics, Evil, Faith, Family, Fear, Forgiveness, God, Good, Good-byes, Greed, Grief, Haile Selassie, Insanity, Inside My Mind, Jesus, Journal, Lies and broken promises, Life, Lists, Living in fear, Logic, Love, Mania, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Minnesota, Misc, miscellaneous, Moral Theories, Morals, Motivation, Mourning, Nursing Homes, Opinion, Pain, Personal, Philosophy, Politics, Prayers, Progress, Psychosis, Quotes, Random, Random Thoughts, Rants, Reform, Rejection, Rights, Sadness, Self-esteem, Self-Help, Self-image, Social Debates, Social Injustices, Society, Sorrow, Spirituality, Stress, Suffering, Suicide, Suicide Note, The Bible, The Bucket List Foundation, The Philosophy of Quotes, Theology, TheRandomArtist, Thoughts, Treatment, Uncategorized, Unity, Verbal Abuse, Work, Work Environment, Writing
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The choice of letting go and saying goodbye is never easy, yet the decision to hold on is even harder. I have let go of hopes, dreams, relationships, redemption and written my goodbyes many times in the past, but every morning I regret my choices and my decisions to hold on… This was the beginning of the post I was working on last Saturday, what was to follow was going to be my final words then swallow every bit of medication I had and finally be at peace. Instead I ended up in the psych ward at Abbot where I stayed until yesterday against my doctors and others advice. I didn’t see the point in staying, all they did was drug me to the point where all I could do was sleep. I was at a crossroads where I knew whether I chose to stay or go I was leaving in worse shape when wen I went in. When I walked out of the hospital and reality came crashing down on me I knew right then and there that I fucked up choosing to go to begin with, yet again regretting my decision to hold on. So I am back where I started but with a bit more inner strength then I had before because I received a mental vacation, but seriously how long will that last? The answer will come in the next week or so as I sit back and see how everything plays out between my job, dream, finances, and relationships. I feel I am at the point where depending on how these things play out will determine my future.

My life is riddled with mistakes, and regrets each one adding to the greater mound of shit called life. At this moment three key things come to mind, keep in mind this is not in chronological order of importance.

  1. Failing at fixing all the problems at the nursing home I work at to improve the quality of life of the residents I have grown to care for so deeply.
  2. Giving up on my dreams of becoming a writer or an artist.
  3. Not finding redemption for the countless number of lives I have destroyed in my 35 years on this earth.
  4. Not following through with shit on November 26th.

I think what it comes down to is acceptance. I need to accept that I won’t ever be more than I am right now. I have to finally accept I won’t ever be able to help the residents where I work. I don’t know what’s worse giving up on my dreams or trying to redeem myself by helping people just like me who can’t help themselves. I have done shitty things; I have poisoned and hurt everyone and everything I have ever touched. Many of my poems touch on this concept of being a “virus.”

For over six years I have worked so hard to make up for all the pain and suffering I have caused by reducing the pain and suffering the residents at the nursing home I work for by the hands and decisions of the very same people who are supposed to care for and safe guard these residents. There are many good hearted people whom I work with who carry this burden of failure, if any of them are reading this they know the deep sorrow and feeling of helplessness of not being able to give these guys the proper quality of life they deserve.

I have been in business with and covered up things for “business associates” who wouldn’t hesitate putting a bullet in your head, but being involved with and covering up for an employer who is a non-profit and allows vulnerable adults and employees to be harassed mistreated and discriminated against is far worse in my eyes. There are many people at the nursing home I work at who see the same things I see but do not act; as Haile Selassie so eloquently put it

Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.”

All of the people involved in my past life and unfortunately as of late too much of my current life chose “the life” and in the end we all end up in one of two places, we deserve whatever end to our means no matter how horrific or painful. Our residents on the other hand do not deserve the means that transpire until their end comes.

This is my apology to the residents that have come and gone who failed to receive the proper quality of life they deserved. I am sorry that I can no longer continue to fight for the change needed, it is destroying me. My old associates showed more mercy delivering people to their end, than the people I work for now. The people employed by this company who care are used and pushed until they break while the predators are allowed to continue to prey.

Non-profits are not supposed to be run like a criminal organization where fear and intimidation rule. Non-profits are supposed to be built upon something called “Duty of care.” If any one of the “criminals” who work at this nursing home is reading this let me define what duty of care means.

“Duty of care is the moral and legal obligation to attend to the safety and wellbeing of those they serve, those who work for them and others who come into contact with their operations.”

Now to wrap things up there may be some people who do not understand what the title of this entry has to do with the content. Below is a Youtube link of Justin Furstenfeld performing the song “Graceful Dancing.” After hearing his introduction to this powerful song, and seeing the familiar emotions during his performance I decided to check myself into the hospital which drastically changed the content of this post. For that I thank the artist and the person who posted this video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCFpgfvPGZo&list=PLIWCEQoVmfdHIakN42xTrXYjPnE6I3EHB&index=55

 

I am sorry for my website looking different,  I am in the process of trying to update it, it’s not going great thus far. Just sitting here listening to music trying to hold it all together.

It feels cleansing and painful to just sit and cry. I am not ashamed that I break down, I just prefer to do it privately. 

I wake up every morning wishing I didn’t, and just hope I can get through the day. What kind of life I’d that?

 

Decaying Faces

Decaying faces

Buried in decaying places

Chasing dreams in empty spaces

Stench of death embraces

That which the light erases

Displaying those decaying faces

Replacing the traces

Of those decaying places

Those rearranged decaying faces

Lost alone in decaying places

Those dreams you chased in empty spaces

Reluctant to believe in warm embraces

Popping pills to find something that erases

A lonely walk that leaves no traces

The decay displacing those funny faces

Oddly drawn to those dark places

Where decaying faces erase the traces

Of empty spaces

Where death embraces

The places and empty spaces

Where light erases

The truth behind the decaying faces

Faces changing places

The memories it erases

Funny faces

Empty spaces

Decaying faces

Hidden in decaying places

Embracing those empty spaces

Erasing the traces of happy faces

By: TimLundmark

 

I enjoy philosophical riddles, and I spend far too less time working on them. The reasons do not matter. I am confronted with one riddle in particular day in and day out… Why have I not or cannot kill myself?

I have gone through my fair share of suffering, and for most of my life battled with the will and desire to no longer be alive. I have many times and still want to die. I do not want to exist. So why at this moment with how I feel and have felt I must ask myself. Why am I breathing and writing this?

This has been a philosophical puzzle that has plagued and tortured me. I have come up with many theories, reasons, and excuses for why I have not.

No point in running the list. What I came up with and I feel so blind for not figuring this out. Its our primal directive to survive. Its ingrained within us and drives everything. This directive is so powerful that I cannot overcome or find the courage to end my suffering.

To me logic and reason would dictate that ending suffering is the only thing that makes sense. Every other theory I have ever had about why I am still alive stems from this roadblock.

How can this override clear logic and reason of not wanting to suffer? How can this seed allow us to self deceive ourselves against the logical course of action. How and at what point can this will be broken down?

Dreams is All They Are

Dreams Is All They Are

Its late at night, I drift off to sleep

Dreaming I wake the man you want me to be

When I awake, my dreaming didn’t take

Seeing your unmatched beauty

Lost in your eyes

Mesmerized by perfection

Truly it could take only a God

To bless us with you

It’s late at night, drifting off to sleep

Dreaming I wake to a day where you see me

When I awake my dreaming simply didn’t take

I notice you light up a room

Lost in your eternal light

I walk by with childhood nerves

Hoping you will shine

Your light upon me

It’s late at night, drifting off to sleep

Dreaming I wake to a day I hear you speak

When I awake my dreams simply didn’t take

I hear your voice on the phone

The sound of trumpeting angels fills the room

My body filled with such excitement

Excitement over the chance

Those trumpets will be directed at me

It’s late at night I drift off to sleep

On those lucky nights when I dream

It is about you

Caressing your cheek, a gentle kiss

Smiles and laughter

Embraced with love

Our suffering freed by a dove

When I awake my dreaming simply didn’t take

These are dreams I know I shall miss

It was you who washed away the dirt

Giving me hope to a brighter future

A chance at what love was meant to be

Dreams

This is all I have

Dreams

Is all they are

By: Tim Lundmark

Signed Drawing and Poem Available at

http://www.etsy.com/shop/TheRandomArtist

 

Never Ending Night Frame 3Puppet Master Frame 4

 

https://www.etsy.com/shop/TheRandomArtist

Both drawings are limited numbered and signed, and come with a free signed copy of the poem.

 

Check it out

There is a place we go

Where we cannot find light

Our eyes adjusted

To our own twisted Plight

We hide in places

Live with fright

Within this never-ending night

We roam

We seek

In search of light

Mind to fucked to speak

Within his never-ending night

We reach our hands up high

Seeking comfort from imaginary hands

We find nothing

Only the pain

Which never went away

No end in sight

Within this never-ending night

Scream all you want

No one will hear

Reality is no one is there

I seek

Until my knees are weak

Reality setting in

I have traveled nowhere

Trapped within

My suffocating box

I am in this never-ending night

A feeble prayer

To a God who was never there

The time has come

Within this box

My mind rots

No air

No light

No hope

Only madness

Brought on from my never-ending night

My cold dark stare

nothing is something

Better

Than living in my never-ending night

In my hands

I hold the key

My only freedom

Only escape

From my never-ending night

One blissful pull

I enter into the light

It amazes me how quickly I can be beaten down. How easily I can fall apart. How little I can handle. How easily I can lie to myself. Its borderline delusional laced with denial. Happiness and hope are things I cannot know, let alone ever have. I want the acceptance, of knowing things will never be alright. I want the comfort that comes from embracing this reality. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to think. Life was better when I was dead inside. It is so much better than to continue living a lie.

Two years ago by happenstance I discovered I possessed the ability to draw, little did I know this singular event would initiate a butterfly effect that would alter my very existence. A major piece of me died when I quit writing years ago, as a result my dream, joy, and self-esteem died. I was sentenced to an agonizing existence; locked away within my own mind. From time-to-time the memory of how I felt during that period where I was pursuing my dream would take over, and I would attempt to return to my passion very little success.  Something which at one point came so effortlessly seemed impossible. As time passed I lost my creativity piece by piece until I had nothing. One of my only sources of inner and outer positive reinforcement was gone.

Until one day at work mindlessly working the phones I found myself looking at this picture and attempted to draw what I was looking at. To my surprise I was able to produce a near perfect duplicate of what I was looking at. This was just simple line work with no shading or other drawing techniques.  I was so proud of myself I continued to do this working my way up to more complicated and detailed duplicates. In January of this year I completed a drawing I was proud enough of I decided to pin it to my cork board behind my desk. The same day I hung this drawing I started to receive compliments, and positive reinforcement for something I managed to accomplish.  It had been some time since I felt good about myself. This was the only motivation I needed to jump into this drawing thing and seriously work on improving my skills so I could continue to feel positive about myself.

Between the positive reinforcement, along with the return of my creativity I ended up being freed from the shackles of oppression I had been suffering. As my confidence grew, so did the reality and realization of where I was in my life. I went on a journey of honest self reflection of my life, and who I was. This has been a painful, yet liberating voyage I continue to this day. With a little outside push of extreme hurt and betrayal from someone close to me I was given the final reason to end a horrible marriage, and a real chance to experience a new life. The details behind this can be saved for another time.

I am amazed at how much my life has changed from then to now. I started selling my drawings, which if I can figure out how to do it I will begin to post them on my blog. I have started writing again; although I have yet to hit my stride where my thoughts can be translated as effortlessly as before, but I continue to make positive steps forward so I can achieve this once again.

Along with the joy and excitement I am feeling about returning to this blog, the spark to start writing my “Dylan Thomas” children’s book series is alive, and feels like it could actually become a reality. Words cannot describe what I am feeling at this moment. The chance to fulfill a dream I have had since a child has been returned to me, and I intend on embracing this second chance.