There is truth in my sight. My vision is real; the deeper meanings escape others. The explanations are convoluted. Things look different from a spinning merry-go-round, but it's the same world. Those who take the time, those who have the time, they may be rewarded. But most don't believe. Don't get me wrong; I'm no messiah. But my vision is real. I am entitled to some trust.
Instead I've come to see myself a fraud. They believe in my actions, but me, not quite me. Not quite me...and so, I come to doubt my right to a living wage. I can't pay attention to survival. It's beyond me; and besides, no one seems to think I do it right anyway.
No Messiah
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No Messiah
Last edited by Frame on Thu Oct 17, 2013 7:23 am, edited 1 time in total.
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veggiemark
- Posts: 21
- Joined: Mon Aug 19, 2013 9:25 pm
Hey Frame. I've read several of your posts and feel like you are so in touch with feelings and life.
I've had so many feelings that I can't put into words
I am a few dollars away from being homeless and a few angry words from being friendless
It might be the ego of this depressed soul(me) but I thought I was smarter than many of the people around me...and the are thriving and I feel like I am close to dead...no joy..no pleasure....no self worth
I want choke those that say" hey it's a great day for you..you woke up today! If they only knew.....
I've had so many feelings that I can't put into words
I am a few dollars away from being homeless and a few angry words from being friendless
It might be the ego of this depressed soul(me) but I thought I was smarter than many of the people around me...and the are thriving and I feel like I am close to dead...no joy..no pleasure....no self worth
I want choke those that say" hey it's a great day for you..you woke up today! If they only knew.....
Hi Frame,
For a couple of days now, I've wanted to answer your post-- Atleast atempt to. But for now, words fail me...except for to say that no one else determines your ideas, value and/or worth. It may be easier for me to say, and maybe harder for you to do. ( allowing opinions of others to affect you, in ANY way)? We are human, afterall! So, naturally, some things are easier said than done.
Veggiemark, you seem like a great judge of character! Frame is insightful and always means well. He has been a source of comfort to me...kinda like a light sometimes in the darkness.
In addition to what I wrote to Frame, I read what you said. Just wanted to say that I like how you constructed your words..."I am a few dollars away from being homeless, and a few angry words from being friendless." This resonated with me. (Your last sentence, also) I haven't seen your main post yet. Am I looking in the wrong area?
For a couple of days now, I've wanted to answer your post-- Atleast atempt to. But for now, words fail me...except for to say that no one else determines your ideas, value and/or worth. It may be easier for me to say, and maybe harder for you to do. ( allowing opinions of others to affect you, in ANY way)? We are human, afterall! So, naturally, some things are easier said than done.
Veggiemark, you seem like a great judge of character! Frame is insightful and always means well. He has been a source of comfort to me...kinda like a light sometimes in the darkness.
In addition to what I wrote to Frame, I read what you said. Just wanted to say that I like how you constructed your words..."I am a few dollars away from being homeless, and a few angry words from being friendless." This resonated with me. (Your last sentence, also) I haven't seen your main post yet. Am I looking in the wrong area?
It's interesting, veggiemark, that you say you thought you were smarter than people around you. People have told me that all my life. It hasn't ever helped the puzzle pieces of my life fall into place. In fact, my sense is that at least part of my deepest problems come from the way I was treated by family when I was young. But they have long shown deference to my intelligence. All my older siblings have constructed solid lives and they had long expresses wonder at how smart yet helpless I am.
So don't give up...I mean don't let go of that sense of intellectual competence. Some people in the 21 century want to rewrite the model of an artist as struggling. "An artist can be anyone. An artist needed starve." Horse S#%&. Those are ideas of comfortable talentless people who like the idea of being an artist. Few artists become famous and comfortable. But, before they do, they struggle and suffer just like any other artist. Even artists who come from comfortable circumstances; you read about their lives, many of them went through self imposed poverty and suffering. It certainly helps to be rich, to travel the world, receive new incites, develop new themes. But after that, it's one man/woman in a room or a shed or a barn all alone with a typewriter or a paint brush.
So, what the heck am I talking about? I just took a phrase of yours and blew it into a rant. Well, I have no doubts about your intelligence. And the fact that you suffer means you also feel. There is so much crisis and pain and suffering out there. It's important to attempt to put it into words (or pictures or melodies or sculpture); as you question your own self worth it's important to express the world around you so as to see yourself in better relief. It not just about you. It's about you and where you fit in this world. The world needs to know you too.
Yesterday, a customer walked into my shop. We spoke for quite a while, she was new to the city. I bend my ear toward everyone that stops by; it distracts me from my ever present danger. And she found a piece of art work I have on display, one I particularly love. It was made by a homeless man. I see this man around the city. Sometimes he is in the park, or on the street. I know sometimes he is in a shelter or in jail. But he is always making art; Always; it's what he does. If he's in trouble it's because he was making art with materials that might not be his or despite the fact someone wanted him to move on. He is the kind of compulsive that creates an artist. He is not nearly dead. He is quite alive. But even as his body suffers, his mind and soul are more at rest than mine are.
So don't give up...I mean don't let go of that sense of intellectual competence. Some people in the 21 century want to rewrite the model of an artist as struggling. "An artist can be anyone. An artist needed starve." Horse S#%&. Those are ideas of comfortable talentless people who like the idea of being an artist. Few artists become famous and comfortable. But, before they do, they struggle and suffer just like any other artist. Even artists who come from comfortable circumstances; you read about their lives, many of them went through self imposed poverty and suffering. It certainly helps to be rich, to travel the world, receive new incites, develop new themes. But after that, it's one man/woman in a room or a shed or a barn all alone with a typewriter or a paint brush.
So, what the heck am I talking about? I just took a phrase of yours and blew it into a rant. Well, I have no doubts about your intelligence. And the fact that you suffer means you also feel. There is so much crisis and pain and suffering out there. It's important to attempt to put it into words (or pictures or melodies or sculpture); as you question your own self worth it's important to express the world around you so as to see yourself in better relief. It not just about you. It's about you and where you fit in this world. The world needs to know you too.
Yesterday, a customer walked into my shop. We spoke for quite a while, she was new to the city. I bend my ear toward everyone that stops by; it distracts me from my ever present danger. And she found a piece of art work I have on display, one I particularly love. It was made by a homeless man. I see this man around the city. Sometimes he is in the park, or on the street. I know sometimes he is in a shelter or in jail. But he is always making art; Always; it's what he does. If he's in trouble it's because he was making art with materials that might not be his or despite the fact someone wanted him to move on. He is the kind of compulsive that creates an artist. He is not nearly dead. He is quite alive. But even as his body suffers, his mind and soul are more at rest than mine are.
Hmm. Tonight, I've self-indulged (like a dumb a**)...duh...and i just wanna say a, Thank you to you Frame for giving that homeless guy a chance....I've been in that predicament before. I won't lie. I DID cry, and still want to, after reading what you said about that homeless guy. GOD. I have to get back to you. I have been 'homeless.' thank you for respecting him...Ttyl'
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veggiemark
- Posts: 21
- Joined: Mon Aug 19, 2013 9:25 pm
Thanks Frame, I appreciate the comment and the story. I have tried to find self worth in my photography. I have posted many of my photos on facebook and they draw positive comments. When I ran a store I would hang a few of my photos up and I'd get good feedback.several people took my pics,had the framed and hung them in their homes and yet...it was like a drug..a momentary happiness followed by emptiness and wanting more.
I have to move in2 days and rather than move my stuff I took a few items. A bit of clothing and I'm gonna leave the restof my stuff.. Going to leave like a thief in the night...I feel horrible about it
I understand all about the family stuff..my family was cold..everything I did was no good..so I understand why I think that about myself...my only positive is thru these last horrible few years I have remained clean and sober
Thanks
I have to move in2 days and rather than move my stuff I took a few items. A bit of clothing and I'm gonna leave the restof my stuff.. Going to leave like a thief in the night...I feel horrible about it
I understand all about the family stuff..my family was cold..everything I did was no good..so I understand why I think that about myself...my only positive is thru these last horrible few years I have remained clean and sober
Thanks
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veggiemark
- Posts: 21
- Joined: Mon Aug 19, 2013 9:25 pm
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veggiemark
- Posts: 21
- Joined: Mon Aug 19, 2013 9:25 pm
Hi there, veggiemark,
What I meant is, have you posted a story anywhere on this site about your life or what you're currently dealing with? I was just curious, because if you have, I wanted to read it. You've been kind enough to respond to my stories/posts.
I'll probably send you a private msg soon (PM).
Hi Frame!
I know I sounded a bit silly...the way I wrote my post to you above! It does touch me, though, that you care about that homeless guy. Too many people are judgmental and are ass*****. You get the point..
What I meant is, have you posted a story anywhere on this site about your life or what you're currently dealing with? I was just curious, because if you have, I wanted to read it. You've been kind enough to respond to my stories/posts.
I'll probably send you a private msg soon (PM).
Hi Frame!
I know I sounded a bit silly...the way I wrote my post to you above! It does touch me, though, that you care about that homeless guy. Too many people are judgmental and are ass*****. You get the point.
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veggiemark
- Posts: 21
- Joined: Mon Aug 19, 2013 9:25 pm
Aww. Thanx for your compliment on my writing. One of my hobbies is writing poetry. I don't know if you've read any of my poems. They're here in Expressions, under the heading: Give & Receive Haiku. I usually write longer poems, and do best in writing 'tear-jerkers!' haha. I read that you're into photography? I'm gifted in this also, though I don't want to sound like I'm boasting! But, creativity runs in my family, so I'm blessed with a few hobbies/gifts. It's kind of nice to have something to get my mind off of the more stressful things. For a LONG time, though, depression has caused me to neglect these hobbies. As you know, depression can rob a person of any desire to do things once enjoyed. It wasn't until Frame inspired me that I began writing some haiku poems here. I'd only written maybe 10-15 of them, long ago in my past. So, thanks to Frame, I am indulging in the art of writing again! Someone here, suggested I write a book/scripts! Although others suggest the same, I don't know that I have the drive!
But messy, yea
There is truth in my sight. My vision is real; the deeper meanings escape others. [ I know; I'm repeating myself. At least that means I'm staying on topic. But it is. People stop and look at the way I express my world. And they seem to depart a little more enlightened, even if somewhat mystified.]
The explanations are convoluted. Things look different from a spinning merry-go-round, but it's the same world. Those who take the time, those who have the time, they may be rewarded. [But will I be? Is any body telling me to keep doing what I'm doing? Far too few I fear.] But most don't believe. Don't get me wrong; I'm no messiah. But my vision is real. I am entitled to some trust. [How can people trust me when I can't trust myself. There is no history of consistency. No path I can look back on, just a tangle of vines.]
Instead I've come to see myself a fraud. They believe in my actions, but me, not quite me. Not quite me...and so, I come to doubt my right to a living wage. I can't pay attention to survival. It's beyond me; and besides, no one seems to think I do it right anyway. [And so, for my own sanity, isn't the right thing to turn away from survival, to forget about the part that is not working and focus on the only thing that seems to work in my life. Except, someone has to be willing to help, and for that to be true I somehow have to believe in myself: I need to believe. For some people is seems easy. There is no question. It's like an animal instinct. Implicitly, they believe in themselves. Where was it that life taught me not to believe? Or is that MY animal nature?]
The explanations are convoluted. Things look different from a spinning merry-go-round, but it's the same world. Those who take the time, those who have the time, they may be rewarded. [But will I be? Is any body telling me to keep doing what I'm doing? Far too few I fear.] But most don't believe. Don't get me wrong; I'm no messiah. But my vision is real. I am entitled to some trust. [How can people trust me when I can't trust myself. There is no history of consistency. No path I can look back on, just a tangle of vines.]
Instead I've come to see myself a fraud. They believe in my actions, but me, not quite me. Not quite me...and so, I come to doubt my right to a living wage. I can't pay attention to survival. It's beyond me; and besides, no one seems to think I do it right anyway. [And so, for my own sanity, isn't the right thing to turn away from survival, to forget about the part that is not working and focus on the only thing that seems to work in my life. Except, someone has to be willing to help, and for that to be true I somehow have to believe in myself: I need to believe. For some people is seems easy. There is no question. It's like an animal instinct. Implicitly, they believe in themselves. Where was it that life taught me not to believe? Or is that MY animal nature?]
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