Misguidance through bad judgment

excuse me for my pace, i’m slow. as for my vision, everything is a bit off center. i didn’t know that its all transitory. when i was young, everything belonged to me. as the years passed, and i grew older, i began to lose what i thought was mine. these losses expounded change as the only constant and i don’t owe a damned thing. for me, change has been a difficult thing when routine has become a habit of normalcy. i’ve been prolonged in accepting that things are not inherently bad, but the judgments i hold are bad. i cannot control the external, it’s just not in my ability or power. although, what i think i can control, and with that in mind, what happens outside of my sphere of choice is not for me to comment. sadly, i continue to comment which i’ve mistakenly turned into a habit. i speak garbage that unnecessarily pollutes, first and foremost myself, and than those around me. i must silence myself to let what is, be and act accordingly.

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Normalcy not so normal

we’re both human.
but you like this,
i like that.
you behave like this,
i behave like that.
well, can that be normal?
of course, difference is normal.
yet, what’s with this classifying one another in terms of normalcy?
a mental illness, or difference in what’s typical is not normal,
but we’re suppose to accept homosexuality as normal?
i think we’re all normal.
but when comparing each other,
our differences make us abnormal.
why?
because we’re different,
and what you say is right,
i say is wrong.
i read somewhere that it’s easiest to point out difference,
but harder to connect with the similarities.
it maybe be difficult to accept the differences,
but maybe it’s easier to do so
if we remember we’re all part of the
same whole.

Beauty is a bastard

she asked,
am i pretty.
i had no response,
because really,
like the saying goes,
beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
and if that is true,
regardless of the majority,
what i have to say is neither
right nor wrong.
i know that whatever i say,
i’ll be called a bastard.
for the most part,
it’s true, for the exception that
my mother was married before
i was conceived.

The wind speaks according to listening

there’s this whisper in my ear.
others can’t hear it.
i’m sure if they do,
it doesn’t speak what i hear.
the wind of such eloquence tickles my ear,
although, others have stated such experience.
who am i to discredit them,
because like them,
i’ve felt the wind.
it’s just that this caress
seems to differ to theirs.
can either of us be wrong?
of course, to one another.
but are we really wrong if
we follow our true nature?