Coffee #27: Question mark? Semicolon; Zer0

( ? ) Question Mark:

I question everything and know nothing. I look in the mirror and see a stranger of unimportance and delusion.

Questions haunt me so much more beyond the simplistic -“what’s that?” or “google it?”- moments. When a definition provided clarity and answers completed the quest.

But words don’t mean anything, and words are just syllables and latin phrases derived and bastardized with blunt force trauma. Like a buffet, we can shop for words to define the undefinable, to label the unmentionable, to describe what is with empty words that mean absolutely nothing.

Is it a competition to collect the labels to define ourselves and others?

Is it asexual or demisexual? Is it heterosexual or homosexual or pansexual? Is it minority or person of color or the alphabet soup of checking twelve boxes on a college application form? Is it gender queer or transgendered or gender neutral?

Does it even matter when you are alone anyway? Does the starving individual worry about such trifles when trapped on a desert island, struggling to survive and maintain hope of rescue? At what point is it good to ask such questions? Is it just selfishness or spoiled indulgence to ponder and wonder instead of being grateful for breath and life and prosperity?

If there were any sense of clarity, perhaps I would ask these questions for the hope of enlightenment, to seek a deeper truth or a hidden meaning to it all. I don’t just want to know, I want to understand and with understanding gain some measure of peace. The rough sea of questions with no answers are an insufferable plague; couldn’t there be a final “aha!” moment to crown the months of struggle and analysis? To close the chapters of confusion with some measure of resolution?

Will I forever be tormented by these questions and uncertainties?

( ; )  Semicolon:

“How could I be sure, that you won’t walk away?
Angel of deception, let me live this way.”

~ How Can I Be Sure by Anomie Belle

Here I stand on the crumbling edges of the excavation
Peering into the depths of another conclusion
-Finally- a gasp from the back of my mind
At last, this morbid phase comes to a close
Just a few more inches, just a few more days
Just another adventure to cure this malaise
Let us finally close this chapter, petty one
Let us finally go our separate ways, lead on
Shutting the lid on this final viewing
We commend your past to the depths
This body isn’t yours to give and burn
But this memory is yours to do with what you will…

Time to pack, time to move, and time to find boxes and store items from each room. What can I live without? Everything…

My contract is ending, this period draws to a close and I am excited for the new opportunities available, the new doors that I can reach out and grasp, firmly, with both hands. I can achieve the goals burning in my soul, I can finally do what I’ve always wanted.

I can finally escape the madness! And what worse madness is there, than to see the insane and assume it a daily norm?

But I digress.

It’s never too late to start a new life. After staring into the mirror wondering “If this were my last day, would I want to do what I’ll do today?” I can finally respond with a solid resounding “YES”.

Raising a glass to the next step of the journey-

( 0 ) Zero:

Zero is often seen as a negative number. Nothing, without, and other negative connotations.

Mathematically, the number zero is neither positive nor negative -except for French mathematics which holds that zero is both positive and negative.

Zero isn’t nothing. Zero is both all and none -like a version of infinity.

So when I say that I am Zero, it is neither positive nor negative in its connotation. It simply “is”. It simply exists. I simply exist, without justifications or associations, without condemnations or hallucinations.

Just there.

Just alive and being, and thinking and existing.

I think therefore I am; if I think about the construct of nothing I still am. Existence isn’t determined by quantity but quality.

Zero is calculated by adding positive and negative numbers that cancel each other out in perfect balance and equality. Life in balance encapsulates the good and bad -nothing wrong with that.

Zero brings with it a zen construct of balance and possibility. Add or subtract, multiply and divide, all or none. Harmony and equality.

Neutrality at its finest…

In a society that emphasizes quantity and accumulation, zero is frightening and horrific. Zero balance = panic attacks. Zero tolerance = freak-the-fuck-out.

Yes, zero gets a bad rap.

But it doesn’t have to be negative. It can be positive. It can be neutral.

It can be what it is without explanation.

And, by extension, so can I.

(?) (;) (0)

So, what’s with the three symbols?

Nothing much, just punctuation.

Enunciation.

A declaration of independence.

Identity #12: I Took those Heels Back

I’ve been in a constant state of self-evaluation during the past few months. Who I am and what I want to do with my life. No big deal, just reviewing my ENTIRE EXISTANCE.

And, in the midst of this, I had these stories running in the background of my life which, in essence, reflected the bigger picture.

Continue reading Identity #12: I Took those Heels Back

Ego Death #1 – Complete and Utter Brain Failure

Ego Death – Complete destruction of all you perceive to be “you”. Recognizing that all or a significant factor of “yourself” is false. Reevaluating “your” self or life or progress.

Inspired by Aun Aqui’s “My Sweet, Stupid Car“.

“Burning paper plane crashing” — Image by © C.J. Burton/Corbis


I must be an idiot. So fucking stupid! 

Wha..? How am I sucking so BAD?!!

But I studied all night!!! How did I….FUUUUUCK!!!

Continue reading Ego Death #1 – Complete and Utter Brain Failure

A Dream from Yesterday

“A valet, of stealthy step, thence conducted me, in silence, through many dark and intricate passages in my progress to the studio of his master.”

– Edgar Allen Poe  “The Fall of the House of Usher”

I was back again.

Summer wind breathes warmth and welcome around the hustle and bustle of college students at the bus stop. I am in undergrad again and the campus remains familiar but warped. The essence remains accurate even though the layout and buildings are inaccurate/distorted, as dreams tend to do.

But I don’t care about any of that. My favorite band is playing in a matter of minutes, and I don’t want to be late.

Continue reading A Dream from Yesterday

Identity #9 ~Life goes On

Everyone down on the floor.
No sudden moves, and lock the door.
I’ve got this feeling I’m chasing.
I’ll never rest, until I find it.

But I’ve been plotting away, in my heart everyday;
To put this plan into action.
And though I tried to resist, I find the thing is this;
Until I get it there is no satisfaction!!!

 -“Evil (A Chorus of Resistance)by Project 86 

#1: There is no plan

Accept it.

The future stretches out into the unlimited finite with all the dark vaguity that it warrants. I see now, why many pour money into finding their future through signs, cards, palms, words, promises. Continue reading Identity #9 ~Life goes On

Identity #8: F**king February

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Dissociation leads to isolation
Isolation leads to hate
I hate the dull February
Where happy thoughts drown with sadistic glee
Into the depression of the gray

February 6, 2016

Attending a mixer at work, I found myself floundering for introduction.

“Hi, nice to meet you! My name is _____.”

“___? Nice to meet you I am ____.”

Continue reading Identity #8: F**king February

-Unoriginal…

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Ugh!! I wish I could just be original without having to worry about being unoriginal.

So often, I feel like a copy of a copy. In the most real of senses.

After overcoming the standard childish narcissism, I swung into the complete opposite spectrum. I’m merely a plagiarism. 

Continue reading -Unoriginal…

Identity #7: (Journey of) Melancholy Birthdays

My life, in the days before my birthday. Note, this is dark.

In the days before my birthday…

I joke with my mother that if she hadn’t eaten that extra cookie at dinner, she might not have gone into labor the next day. I don’t remember -obvi’!- what that first birthday was like, but there are a ton of baby pictures with me and Dad. He was real tickled to have a girl.

Every day is a blessing, I’m glad to be alive.

Continue reading Identity #7: (Journey of) Melancholy Birthdays