Life, is a recycle

“The cycle of life, birth, living, death, a few the smiles, the eternal strife, it’s all simply, a form of things being recycled, am I right?” Gun Roswell

Life, is a recycle

They say all the intellectual properties have all already been done, by the selected few masters, perhaps in the very past, but maybe something new maybe there also and then retweeted by the masses.

Whether it is a simple repost of someone stating something great or even cheering for hate, there are those reposting, everything. Recycling every single word and picture found out there, on the world wide web.

It might be even someone you idolise, having said or done something clever, like your neighbours cat or Baby Yoda, whomever… But the internet of things, where we so much time spend is basically just that, recycling everything and anything.

The same can be said for life.

Whether it is poor choices or old memories, reliving those special and not so special events. Or then simply going through the daily grind, the supposed life.

It’s all the same really, just think about it: Sleep, eat, rinse and repeat. 

And if lucky enough somewhere there smack in the middle of it, maybe having some new idea, a break from the ideal, a trip or a party perhaps?

In school the teachers taught as all they know? Maybe, at least, some of the things, making the information flow, circling around and to everyone.

We as adults move along, repeating the steps of others, our parents, grandparents and so on. Then as parents pushing the learnt knowledge to our offspring, the cycle continues…

At work reusing the already invented and proven processes and methods, as why invent the wheel, it is round anyway and well, a circle. Moving along, in rounded circles.. see the repeating theme here?

Then the trash, yeah, that is the ultimate recycle! But that is a whole other tale, all the stuff we accumulate… and then throw away. Perhaps try not to do that to our lives?

In the end, its all just fine, admitting to it and then moving along with the circle of life! Heck, even the name says it all. Circle, life, recycle?

And so, whatever your belief or faith might just be, in the end, life itself might just repeat after death, a total and complete recycle of beings.

I myself, will certainly want to come back as a cat, that much is sure, as having all the internet cheering for me just being me! But then I would not care about any kinds of cycles, re or not. Except perhaps for a ball of yarn, that’s circular, right?

A day of irritation

“There is nothing like walking up from the wrong side of the bed, the whole day totally spoiled!” Gun Roswell

A day of irritation

Yeah, it is that kind of day, when all you see around you is chaos and dismay, the short lived dreams, or rather nightmares behind now, but cannot help the display of a frown, a permascowl rather as nothing, absolutely not one single thing, did go right, ever since that alarm clock chimed.

And so, with all the bile sticking into the throat, not even the neighbour’s smirking goat, can lift up the spirits, fingers digging into the thick layer of clothing, only hoping its enough against the weather outside, then headed out the door, the slippery ice road ahead, not helping the mood but instead, going down, luckily the thick ass cushioning the fall, but the snowy stuff, is enough, to irritate the already fowl, sour state.

So, getting up, huffing and puffing, into the car, luckily having been dug out from under piles and piles of the white stuff having fallen from the skies, the night before, so at least, there is that, even if the derrière feels rather sore, but don’t want to be late from work, so heading to the traffic, soon on the highway, at least, on the right lane.

At the office, they all start pouring in, as despite the good intentions of having a happy face plastered on, trying to stay strong, but then, like often, idiots happen, and ain’t that a great continuation for a day ahead, which had already tarted so greatly, and yes, I am stating that quite sarcastically!

Another day of total irritation, how fun!

Life Block (as we know it)

“There is nothing worse than an obstacle, which cannot be removed from hindering continuation on the chosen path” Gun Roswell

Life Block (as we know it)

I am buried deep in the deepest of voids, so deep I cannot see the light, as I feel like I am locked inside, my very own mind, the life as I know it does not matter, as I am unable into it tether

The daily grind on the automatic, simple as that, as leat it is all static, less frantic but almost a fanatic, of how the must to do, pushes on

Eat, work, sleep, repeat… the cycle goes on, feeling defeated

Without an ending in sight, the once ever present fight, now lost, somewhere in the hassle of it all, as not even time here wants to stall, ticking away in a fast pace

The block, tightly locked, therefore, the loop keeps on repeating, like a mouse in its small wheel, I do time steal, only away from myself

The not moving on, again trying to explain, yeah, it’s that same supposed block, which keeps on preventing all else and so I am depending on holding onto that stopping block of a thing

Because maybe, I don’t even want to move on?

Be a cupcake

“If you want to be one, then just be whom ever you want to be, even a cupcake!” Gun Roswell 

Be a cupcake

If you don’t feel like being ordinary, bring just like everyone else, just like the out of the box version of every single fellow human walking the streets, then perhaps, you are on a quest for something quite different, something unique and the perfect thing which will you most certainly separate yourself from the rest of everyone else.

And once you have decided, not that it is written in stone and it needs to be the one permanent decision for the rest of your life, then no, as you can try several more on for size, before you even have to decide, and be advised, there are so many great options out there, so do, go out there and explore until you find what you seek.

 And so, whatever you want to become, is there for the taking, and do forget all that hating, because those doing it, are simply jealous because they are not able or willing to choose this exceptional experience, of being something else, even for a moment, if only for a fantasy try.

The concentration of a photographer


“The dusk setting in, final rays of the sun, painting colours over the water and land, but the pix snappers work is never done, as this is where the fun only just begins” Gun Roswell

The concentration of a photographer

That perfect moment, only there for a second, concentration of the essence as the need to capture the very scene, is vital, mental even for the snapper of every which event happening all around and everywhere

Hysterics is the best way to describe the mood, of the snapper, having clicked, way too soon, but sometimes, they might just succeed and the perfect capture is presented right there, on the screen

But, these days, even with all the fancy technology, devices plentiful and always at hand, pun intended, the moments go past so fast, the hand eye coordination cannot fathom what happened and so, the blurry snaps, filling the storage fast

Still, if even one of the millions, is as good, a stamp of approval there should be put, then a happy face on the snapper will replace, the permascwol usually present

Then again, what is considered a good or great snap, is debatable, just check out the facts out there on the world wide internets.

2.47 AM


“The time is now, even if it is in the middle of the night, but if it feels right, simply, write” Gun Roswell

2.47 am

Sometimes it is right to just be awake, when others sleep, because your mind is in to deep of it all, the worlds created and destroyed, inside the very head of your own, and just because the timing might be bad, throwing away ideas popping up so vey sad or glad?

Well, simply not an option, as the very concoction, can soon be read online, and whether it is fine or not?

Guess you should be the judge of that?

I don’t really have a life, do I?

“Living inside a fantasy world inside one’s own mind can be dangerous they said. Still it is much better here, than anywhere else, so why should I want to leave?“ Gun Roswell

I don’t really have a life, do I?

Life?

What is this thing everyone keeps talking about – life?

It is a rather difficult of a concept to grasp

And someone even suggested it doesn’t that long last?

So why then bother?

Why not simply live inside the most perfect make believe world?

Created by the twisted mind and then oneself having into it hurled

But, by choice, as all the many voices there

Bring comfort and care, never ever despair

And so, the conclusion?

Is there life outside one’s mind?

Or is all of it out there simply a concoction of someone much smarter?

And all those living their supposed lives?

Simply mere players in someone else’s mind?

Life is full of ups and downs

“Life, well, it is a funny thing, life, isn’t it. Just filled with all kinds of surprises, mostly never good,  but yeah, guess it’s all good“ Gun Roswell

Life is full of ups and downs

The never ending rollercoaster, which some of us, call life, the never ending circle of ups and downs, mostly those kinds, making most of us frown, as where the ups are concerned, there is usually several more downs coming in return.

Never trust a smiling cat, nor an up at that, because you’ll know it’s gonna come with a payment, which oh so totally burns!

POEM OF PRIDE

PRIDE

“It is pride month again. For those otherwise inclined, not fitting the norm. Some call it pandering, others simply enjoy the appreciation thrown their way.” Gun Roswell

Pride

What does it mean? Really?

It is just having a flag of colour raised up the pole for a duration of thirty days?

Wearing colourful socks or shoes, perhaps a bag of the same colour spectrum?

Being acknowledged at the work place, having pins placed on their lapels, sporting the rainbow colours?

The convenient store around the corner, displaying their pride collection proudly beside the register?

But for me? Personally?

Simply to be me, to exist, just the way I was intended to be

Not to be put in a box, designed by those, who would prefer to do so

I don’t ware any other colours than those, which suit my daily mood

Just because the calendar said so, and wanted me to come out of my home

I have and always will be, simply me

Acceptance or not, I cannot and will not change who I am

And so, alone or together with others daring, I make my stand

Celebrating each and everyday of the year, without fear

And so, tipping my bonnet to those, who chose this time to appreciate us, other folk

But also reminding them all, this month is not the only time we, queer folk, do exist

The mood of the day

“The mood, ever changing, by the day, by the hour, even by the second, as yes, I am really that moody!” Gun Roswell

The mood of the day

The mood, something which sometimes, really should, not be effecting anything, but unfortunately, more often times, it goes completely out of control, like it totally has a mind of its own and during those times, well, not even a smile will get you off the hook, when a great big booboo had been left out of the locked hideaway, deep inside the mind’s eye, and even acting all quiet and nice with a great big wide smile will cover for the mood swings and the following rough words flying out the pit of the stomach and right through the big mouth and this is where it all goes totally south, as everything said will always sound too loud and so, there is really nothing making one feel proud, the moody blues, will make you totally lose your dignity and whatever else, and so, thanks to the mood swaying every which way, there is no use in one place stay as nobody wants to see those kinds of things happening, the moods soon unwrapping your true self, but in the end why dwell, we all use those moods as an excuse for bad behaviour, and so, let them all out, even if totally loud, as sometimes most of us need to not behave.