The Staircase

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So there’s a staircase that I’ve buried down deep in my mind
It’s the place that I made to cage
All the fear and anger inside.
In blood, etched on every step,
written line after line
Is the story of a man
Who struggles just to get by
He studies words on spiral stairs
Tryin’a derive
All the good from the evil, the shadows from light, the truth within the lies.

He feels most safe within his head
Surrounded by his walls
On autopilot consciously,  just waiting for the fall.
Despite the pain this man has felt
He holds his head up high
And walks with purpose down the stairs
Fire blazing in his eyes.
Step after step the stairs lead down
To a place where light is none
Seemingly peaceful, but simply decietful
Are these sirens disguised as the son.

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The Toxicity of Man

Pride will be the end of us all. There is just something about the human that prohibits them from admitting when they are wrong, even when the people they “love” suffer. What people fail to realize though is that suffering is optional. There is nothing that will guarantee that these individuals will remain in your life. When you lose all the people in the world who used to carry you, what then? I guess being alone and still trying to convincing yourself that your actions are just is preferable to admitting fault, swallowing pride, and showing the people you “love” that they mean more to you than your own ego. Moral of the story is: When morality is in question, most people are simply too scared to take responsibility for the things they’ve done. Do not subject yourself to the toxicity of man voluntarily, surround yourself with the people who reciprocate the respect, love, and compassion that you exhibit, and cut ties with the people who are poisoning your happiness. It is not a bad thing to allow yourself to be happy, even now.

A Light In The Dark (Part I)

     I have felt for a very long time that the morality of mankind has all but fled from the world. That respect for our fellow man has dwindled to little more than a spark. Words like “family” and “love” are being tossed around carelessly and both are discarded spitefully whenever it suits one party or the other. We have forgotten the meaning of the words. Sure, we can give a definition of the words but can we actually remember how they feel? It’s so sad to me that we can take two of the most powerful words in the world and diminish them to an idea that is so fragile that it can be severed by clicking a button on a social media site. That seems like a disgrace to the words to me. We are so casual with meaningful phrases and titles that we have diminished them to acronyms. Forgive me but that seems to deplete these beautifully intricate concepts to little more than a casual slang. It is so inexplicably sad. Family and love are two words that hold immeasurable significance in my life. I wish there were words in the world that personified what those words used to mean. It is heartbreaking to watch mankind and all of its potential for greatness dwindle to darkness due to an inability to swallow one’s own pride and admit fault. The general cowardice the people have developed is astounding. Chivalry has died and along with it followed respect. They were replaced self-absorption and pride.

     Pride will be the destruction of us all. The refusal to acknowledge facts due to ones image or personal beliefs. The ridiculous sense of entitlement that people feel and project to the world. That road seems as if it would be a very lonely existence. I have found that people, when approached with kindness, respect, and a collected manner seem to respond in kind. whereas if I were to approach in an aggressively dominant and entitled arrogance I would undoubtedly be met with an appropriate response. Basically if you truly care about someone at all you will treat them the way they deserve to be treated without question because it is the right thing to do, not because you feel obligated to do so. Think about where the human race would be were we to settle our differences with reason and logic, kindness and compassion rather than bloodshed, the unspoken promise of tyranny, and the feeling of insecurity while inside ones own home. We are morally crippled and the most devastating aspect of all this is that it is our pride, not our character that prevents us from peace.

     These are not foreign concepts to us, but we have turned a blind eye to them because they show us that we are not the saints we believe ourselves to be. They show us that we have become hollow shells of the people we once were. Back to a time when the world was new and interesting, and feelings were uncorrupted by man. Back before the corporate and financial worlds showed you that you were destined to work your life away with the belief that nothing was going to get in the way of what you wanted. i am so sorry that the world has tricked us into believing that we are somehow seated higher individually seated at different levels based on ego. We should all be ashamed of ourselves. We have lost our way, and the will to find it again. There are still good people in the world though.

     These wonderful people have faith in mankind’s ability to step outside of the cruelty and hatred that flows so easily now that we can blame it on “human nature.” They look at the world and its limitless potential and wonder how we could have become so voluntarily blind and ignorant to their actions towards others. These people almost feel as if they missed their time and were born a hundred years too late. They feel like outcasts because of what they stand for. They are the people who change others without the intention of doing so just by being themselves and viewing life as it is rather than how everyone else tells them it is. This is for everybody who still believe in a set of morals or principles that reflect a time that has long since been buried and forgotten. This is for the people who truly understand that the world is a beautiful, and remarkable place, and that life is entirely too short to be wasted on hate and pride. To the people who can still hold a conversation without glancing at their phone.Thank you so much for everything you do, and I hope that you keep your head up. There are more truly good people in the world than you know and they are being heard. Even if this post only reaches a hand-full of people that still hold the potential to open someones eyes to a potentially more peaceful life and that is good enough for me.

     I may never change the world, but there is always the possibility that my words may change the person who does. I cannot think of a more meaningful sentiment for a writer than to be the light in the dark that someone else had lost hope in finding. I wrote this entire blog for them, and I cannot thank you enough for taking the time out of your day to read my writing. I truly hope that something you find in my writing brings you peace and potential clarity. I truly hope that you understand that I care. Your writing and perspective of the world could change somebody’s life. Remember how you got where you are and remember the things that make you smile. Remember the things that still matter when you set your pride and ego aside. Remember that people care and there will always those of us who will listen. The world is not a cruel place, and life is not meant to be so unstable. Do not forget to see the beauty in your life and in the world around you and let the hope that people truly care die out. Do not forget to live. Do not forget that our time here is limited. Most importantly though; Do not forget to be a light in the dark for others so that they may find peace as well.

Dear…

Dear…

Have you ever written a letter? Was it to a stranger or someone close to you? Was it someone you loved, or just a passing acquaintance? Did they understand the meaning behind the words on the page, or did the writing remain unappreciated due to the lack of caring? Did they read it or did they disregard it completely? Did they really care at all? Did the words burst from your mind as if they had been dying to see the light of day, or were your thoughts jumbled and difficult to voice? How many times did you have to write the letter before it looked right to you? Did you care? What if I told you that your writing matters?.. What then?

Writing has always been my most personal form of communication, and I used to write often. The world was simpler then. Then one day I woke up and realized that somewhere along the way people in general were beginning to care less and less about what was written on the page, and more and more about the “romance factor” involved with letters… So now we all blog.

We blog because we are more afraid of one persons response to a letter more than the worlds. We blog because sitting down with a pen and paper would damn near be looked at as prehistoric in today’s society (go green and whatnot.) We blog so that there is still a hope of reaching that one person who needed to hear what we had to say. We blog so that we don’t feel like nobody is listening.

It seems to me that the letters that I used to write have all but fallen on deaf ears, and that truly is a devastating thought. All of the meticulous thought and effort wasted just because we (as men and women alike) have forgotten that there is an actual person on the other end of the pen or keyboard. We have become so desensitized to the feelings of both the people surrounding us as well as ourselves that we have forgotten to care about anything at all…

To those people in the world who have written beautiful pieces filled with their most profound emotions and watched helplessly as they were read and discarded, or seemingly ignored all together (as it seems to be in most cases.) To those people in the world who have a multitude of grace and intelligence to offer the world but refuse to do so because the world has not been kind to them.  To all those people in the world who have something to say… There are still those of us who believe in the beauty and magic of writing, and take the writing on the page to heart.  The world might not want to know what you have to say, but I can promise you that if you can find the people who do; It’s all worth it in the end. I care, and I always have. You just have to believe that it is still possible to find peace, and you will.

The “Mask”

Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote, “There is no privacy that cannot be penetrated.  No secret can be kept in a civilized world.  Society is a masked ball where everyone hides his real character, then reveals it by hiding.”

Based on my personal experiences in the world, I do not believe that this country represents the morals or ideals of its citizens. Maybe it did once, but that time has long since been buried and forgotten. The people of the United States of America have been censored and swayed so much by the corporate and social medias that we have lost our personal identities. We are so engulfed in the drama and the infatuation of fitting in with our fellow sheeple that we have donned a mask to hide our true faces. The mask is the ever-present façade that we broadcast to the world. The mask, like Atlas bears the weight of the world; forever being punished for crimes that weren’t of its own making. The tragedy is that we have become so blind to our surroundings that we as a conglomeration are beginning to believe our own lies, and have all but forgotten what our true faces look like at all. How long will men and women alike suffer in silence for a cause that has left them both bitter, and alone in the rubble of a better time? Mankind has created a mask that is worn whilst out in the world; when surrounded by strangers, exposed and vulnerable. This persona is rigid and reserved, hidden in plain sight for the entire world to see. The mask that we wear at home when we are surrounded by the ones we love is the closest that anyone will ever come to seeing our true face.

It has always been my understanding that putting faith in anyone other than God and myself will result in disappointment, and the cherry on top of the cake is that ignorance cannot be blamed; but rather lack of caring. There was a moment in the not so distant past that bore witness to a race of man that was free of judgment. A Race that was able to walk freely beyond the walls of their own homes without the masks that now chain these same men to the very streets they used to walk. How far must we fall before we realize that we are the cause of our own suffering; by then I just hope it isn’t too late. On the other hand, after scrutinizing how each individual treats another, the mask could be chalked up to nothing more than the most primal human instinct; Survival. This terrible plague could be nothing more than a defense mechanism, and if so, how can it be beaten? The pursuit of the answers to the former questions will infest the mind like a slow moving cancer until all faith in mankind is obliterated. E.E. Cummings once wrote, ‘To be nobody but yourself in a world which is doing its best night and day to make you everybody else, means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight and never stop fighting.’  It is human nature to struggle with acclimation into society whilst also straining to maintain ones’ own identity. The road is long and paved with potholes, a lonely desolate wasteland, and it seems rather ignorant to hide from companionship while we travel; so why not deviate from the social norm and search for people who are also reaching for companionship. Walk blindly into the darkness that is the rest of your lives, and do so with the confidence that there will always be those of us who will seek you out in this darkness and give you the strength to take off the mask and face your fears.

Simplicity

What happened to the morality of man and when did it give way to pride? When did doing the morally right thing become such an odd concept? Why does it feel like our humanity and compassion towards others became old fashioned… It’s all grey now. Nothing is just black and white anymore. I remember a time in the not so distant past when doing the right thing was based off of the morality of the morality of the situation rather than the people it affected. Now there seems to be a right and wrong aspect of both sides. Some factor that overrules mere right and wrong. What’s infinitely more frustrating is that there doesn’t seem to be many objections to the current state of general humanity. It is such a blessing to be capable of caring so much about others, but it would be a lie were I to tell you that it wasn’t just as painful. Why is it so difficult to simply be a good person?

I think about my past quite a lot; not the negatives, but the emotions. The feelings that children experience are simple. They are black and white, and defined with the innocence that only youth allows. They are taught from babies how to judge right and wrong, and how to see the light in people. They are told that the world is a bright and beautiful place with limitless potential ahead. The children receive this news with joy and wonder. We all saw the beauty in the world…. Why is it that more often than not this is not the case at all? We fail (as a whole) to acknowledge the foundation of who we are, and we lack the constitution to see the good in the world. I am fairly certain that most of our childhood selves would be horrified to see what we have become as people. It is humorous to me that we are all so intentionally blind. It is not that we can’t see that what we do is wrong, but more that we decide that our own wellbeing and happiness is worth more than others. We should all be ashamed of what we’ve become.

Look at the people who are near you. Your family. Are they good people? Deep down at their core what do you see? Light or darkness? Good or bad? There is no grey where a persons’ character is concerned so surround yourself with people who treat others with kindness and compassion. Cherish the people who look to you in dark times so that they may have the hope of light. Why is it taboo to be kind to others just because we can. See the beauty in the world and love others with no strings because you want to and not because you have to. Find the simplicity again. We are all flawed by nature and our decisions define us. When faced by a choice between what is right and what maintains the peace it is difficult but that is where true character shines through. We as human beings have all been put in situations such as these and fallen short of glory, but beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It happens more often than not with most people. What feels right? Deep down in your gut? It is not a bad thing to rise against what is wrong even when against great odds. Is this not true? I challenge you to remember. Remember what it is that made you the person you are today. Remember the lessons that were taught long before we discovered that it is easier to hurt others than to heal them. Before we learned to be cold and bitter, and before we forgot the simplicity in the world.

Love profusely and hate little. Do not let the bitterness of men extinguish your light. Shine like a beacon to the people you love. They need you far more than you can imagine. Find the people that are are truly good down to their core and surround yourself with them. Use their light as others use yours and better each other. Humility, sincerity, honor, respect, kindness, compassion, understanding. Imagine how different the world would be if everybody were to practice these principles? What about at your workplace? Your home? Treat others well and never allow someone to fall if it can be prevented. Think about these things, I’m not saying that all people are bad, but I am saying that nobody is perfect. All thoughts are creative; be mindful of what you create.

Peace Within Chaos

I have felt for a very long time that the morality of mankind has all but fled from the world. That respect for our fellow man has dwindled to little more than a spark. Words like “family” and “love” are being tossed around carelessly and both are discarded spitefully whenever it suits one party or the other. We have forgotten the meaning of the words. Sure, we can give a definition of the words but can we actually remember how they feel? It’s so sad to me that we can take two of the most powerful words in the world and diminish them to an idea that is so fragile that it can be severed by clicking a button on a social media site. That seems like a disgrace to the words to me. We are so casual with meaningful phrases and titles that we have diminished them to acronyms. Forgive me but that seems to deplete these beautifully intricate concepts to little more than a casual slang. It is so inexplicably sad. Family and love are two words that hold immeasurable significance in my life. I wish there were words in the world that personified what those words used to mean. It is heartbreaking to watch mankind and all of its potential for greatness dwindle to darkness due to an inability to swallow one’s own pride and admit fault. The general cowardice the people have developed is astounding. Chivalry has died and along with it followed respect. They were replaced self-absorption and pride.

Pride will be the destruction of us all. The refusal to acknowledge facts due to ones image or personal beliefs. The ridiculous sense of entitlement that people feel and project to the world. That road seems as if it would be a very lonely existence. I have found that people, when approached with kindness, respect, and a collected manner seem to respond in kind. whereas if I were to approach in an aggressively dominant and entitled arrogance I would undoubtedly be met with an appropriate response. Basically if you truly care about someone at all you will treat them the way they deserve to be treated without question because it is the right thing to do, not because you feel obligated to do so. Think about where the human race would be were we to settle our differences with reason and logic, kindness and compassion rather than bloodshed, the unspoken promise of tyranny, and the feeling of insecurity while inside ones own home. We are morally crippled and the most devastating aspect of all this is that it is our pride, not our character that prevents us from peace.

These are not foreign concepts to us, but we have turned a blind eye to them because they show us that we are not the saints we believe ourselves to be. They show us that we have become hollow shells of the people we once were. Back to a time when the world was new and interesting, and feelings were uncorrupted by man. Back before the corporate and financial worlds showed you that you were destined to work your life away with the belief that nothing was going to get in the way of what you wanted. i am so sorry that the world has tricked us into believing that we are somehow seated higher individually seated at different levels based on ego. We should all be ashamed of ourselves. We have lost our way, and the will to find it again. There are still good people in the world though.

They have faith in mankind’s ability to step outside of the cruelty and hatred that flows so easily now that we can blame it on “human nature.” They look at the world and its limitless potential and wonder how we could have become so voluntarily blind and ignorant to their actions towards others. They almost feel as if they missed their time and were born a hundred years too late. They feel like outcasts because of what they stand for. They are the people who change others without the intention of doing so just by being themselves and viewing life as it is rather than how everyone else tells them it is. This is for everybody who still believe in a set of morals or principles that reflect a time that has long since been buried and forgotten. This is for the people who truly understand that the world is a truly beautiful place and that life is entirely too short to be wasted on hate and pride. To the people who can still hold a conversation without glancing at their phone.Thank you so much for everything you do, and I hope that you keep your head up. There are more truly good people in the world than you know and they are being heard. Even if this post only reaches a hand-full of people that still hold the potential to open someones eyes to a potentially more peaceful life and that is good enough for me.

I may never change the world, but there is always the possibility that my words may change the person who does. I cannot think of a more meaningful sentiment for a writer than to be the light in the dark that someone else had lost hope in finding. I wrote this entire blog for them, and I cannot thank you enough for taking the time out of your day to read my writing. I truly hope that something you find in my writing brings you peace and potential clarity. I truly hope that you understand that I care. Your writing and perspective of the world could change somebody’s life. Remember how you got where you are and remember the things that make you smile. Remember the things that still matter when you set your pride and ego aside. Remember that people care and there will always those of us who will listen. The world is not a cruel place, and life is not meant to be so unstable. Do not forget to see the beauty in your life and in the world around you and let the hope that people truly care die out. Do not forget to live.

The Mind of a Mortician

My name is Weston Webb. I am 21 years old and for the last six years I’ve been employed by various funeral homes across the state of Oklahoma. I have buried well over 1000 people in the last six years and the question that I get asked most frequently is “How does your job not depress you?” The answer to this question is very simple. I remain upbeat not because I am calloused to my work, but because I look at the faces of the dead and see an expression there that is very rarely seen on the face of the living. These people I work with look as if they have shed the chains of this life and have finally found the peace that eludes mankind throughout the entirety of our lives. Such freedom can only be achieved by the dead because the living will not allow someone to be that happy. You say my job is depressing, and you are probably right. My only argument is: is it not depressing to sit in a monotonous job day in and day out without ever really knowing whether you are making a difference in someone’s life or not? No, it’s true the dead cannot speak but if they could I can assure you that each and every one of them is happier than each and every one of us. I cannot possibly think of a happier environment to immerse myself in. Rather than be afraid of the dead and death itself, I envy their freedom and look forward to hopefully experiencing such peace at the end of my time.

The only aspect of my job that is difficult is an ordered to truly do my job well I have to put myself in a position to grieve with the family over their loss. That is the only common ground that we hold. I have the opportunity to guide people through what could be the hardest time in their life and hopefully give them the strength and courage to continue moving forward with their lives. There is only one thing about my career that always seems to remain consistent. When my time with the family is done more often than not they look at me and say “I truly hope that I never see you again” and most of the time they don’t. It took me a very long time not to take this comment personally but somewhere along the way I began to realize that death is simply not kind to the living. There is nothing romantic about death it’s like the ocean in a sense. It’s deep, and dark, and vast, and grief is like a thief in the night. Life is fleeting, and should not be taken for granted. It seems like a noble and heroic deed to fight and die for the ones that you love, especially if these people hold your heart. What people fail to think about is; after you are gone due to your noble cause the ones you love will remain here alone and grieving over you. People spend their entire lives trying to dissuade the notion that our time here is short and that life is fragile, but in all reality the only thing that we are promised in our lives is that it will inevitably end.

They say that we leave this world the same way that we came into it – naked and alone. If that be true then why not try to live your life well. Why not aspire to leave an impact so large on the world that the very idea of your absence will rock the very foundation of those who knew you. After all what we do in life echoes in eternity. I truly hope that this post does not dampen your mood any. That was truly not my intention at all. Through my eyes my job is one of the happiest professions in the world regardless of how taxing it is. Yes, it is true that over the course of the last six years I have been in the company of the deceased far more than the living, but I have the pleasure of going home each and every night and knowing that I made a difference in someone’s life rather than hoping. I hope this gives you a different perspective of funeral directors and funeral service workers. Throughout the six years I’ve been in the funeral business I have never met the stereotypically “creepy” funeral director. Quite the contrary actually. The people in the funeral industry are the kindest most caring and loving people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I hope that you all have a good evening, and remain in high spirits. Life is truly beautiful, and every now and again we just have to remind ourselves that there are still people who care about complete strangers, even though the social norm dictates that to be a dangerous endeavor in today’s society. Don’t forget to be kind to the people in your life even if they are complete strangers. You never know where people came from or what story they have to tell. You never know the pain that they have experienced throughout their life, nor the happiness. I feel that you would be surprised to find that there are far more caring people in the world then you will ever know. This is not because you don’t long to have them in your life, but more-so because society has made you phobic of any human being who doesn’t sit at your dinner table on Sunday night with your family.

Remember, it doesn’t matter what country you came from, what color your skin is, or what language you speak. At the end of your life you will be put in a box and then into a hole in the ground just like everyone else. We are neither American, Asian, European, Australian, or African. We are humans and we all live in the same place. Just because there is water that separates us does not mean that the ground ends where the water begins. Remember that above all else. Our leaders commit themselves day and night to making sure that this fact be overlooked because peace is not a profitable state of being. I challenge you to be kind to a stranger this week. Who knows, it might even change their life, or even better, they might change yours. Either way the world will be a better place because of the action itself. Thank you all so much for reading what I have to say. I can’t possibly begin to explain how much it means to me, and I hope that you have found some good in my writing. I hope that I’ve made a difference in your life because that’s all that really matters.

-Weston

Reality Awaits

     If you were to die tomorrow would you be content with the way you’d be leaving things with the people in your life? If not, you are wrong. I want to write a letter to someone that actually matters to them. I’m not talking about the conventional “butterflies” feeling, I mean a feeling like one would get when seeing their favorite band live for the first time; a perfect sense of clarity, euphoria, and understanding. I want to inspire that in someone else, because that feeling will never die… That seems like a worthwhile venture, but more and more often people rely on what others can do for them rather than how others treat them and make them feel. You say that I’m not a “feelings” person but rather a logical one and I’d like to counter by saying that you are blind. I am both, I refuse to let my emotions rule my brain, It wouldn’t do any good for either side. If you truly believe that I lack feelings in any sense then you don’t really know me at all. Without feelings you are a robot, and without logic you are an idiot.  

       Where do our largest desires and dreams stem from? Do we gain the majority of our intellect through our parents and the school systems who have taught them and will teach their children? Or do we fabricate the image that is to be the “best part of ourselves.” Ever since I was a very young child I remember watching the television and wishing that I could be the character that was depicted on the screen. These people are the embodiment of happy with perfect hair, teeth, and a smile that faded only once with crushing finality only to be brought back the next morning. Who wouldn’t want that? The I found out much later in life that our world very rarely works in such a fashion, We devote what is debatably the best part of our lives to the pursuit of knowledge that is pulled from a curriculum devised by our leaders to teach us “the skills we will need to succeed in life.” Only to discover that you will spend the rest of your natural life working day and night falling into the same routine day after day until you finally wake up towards the end of your life and you wonder “What if…” That sounds like a tragedy to me. But hey, we have all these virtual tools that can help us forget about our lives for a while so it doesn’t really matter, right? Maybe it is time to look at reality again, because we have forgotten who we are and how we got here in the first place. It’d sure be a shame to look back and see that you were blind rather than intelligent. Just remember that without suffering there would be no compassion, and that nothing worthwhile is ever easy.


“That man is good who does good to others; if he suffers on account of the good he does, he is very good; if he suffers at the hands of those to whom he has done good, then his goodness is so great that it could be enhanced only by greater sufferings; and if he should die at their hands, his virtue can go no further: it is heroic, it is perfect.”  –  Jean de La Bruyère  

Beyond the Walls

I am unsure when everything went so wrong, only that it did. I’m not sure when I lost myself, but it happened. I wish I had the words to explain my mind state at that time, but I don’t. I truly wish I did… The words have yet to be discovered by man, or if they have, I have yet to hear them. I wish I could find a way to convey my thoughts to you because the words seem to diminish their significance and render the once eloquently thought out explination to little more than a cliché and feeble attempt to cover ones own skin. I hate myself for not having the words, and I hate you for not attempting to understand how much I actually meant the words rather than the words themselves. I would never wish the same upon you. It’s a surreal feeling when you view the world as a spectator in your own life. It is a cruel thing to sit in silence simply for lack of words to describe expression and watch as your world contorts and twists into something far worse than a nightmare. I wish I could make you understand, but I can’t. Phrases like “I love you’ and ‘I’m sorry’ are thrown around more and more frequently each and every day. That fact almost guarantees skepticism when the phrases are used in an attempt to make ones intentions and true feelings be known.

It is hell internally to have such overwhelming feelings only to see them diminished into nothing more than a cop-out or a diversion… Perhaps it was simply so mentally exerting to attempt that we have no choice but to utter the now “cliché” phrases and will the opposite side to understand. Silence is very rarely a lack of response but more a resignation of feelings diminished by our linear perspective of life and our inability to comprehend others feelings on a personal level. It is very hard to love what you have never seen outside of a television show or movie, or even a book. Nobody seems to have an answer as to why we care so strongly about these fictional characters and so little about the people in our physical world. It’s as if we have all forgotten that the shows, movies, and books have an ending and the characters within them are nothing more than an idea. We all just sat down one day to our favorite cyber niche and forgot to get up. I wish people throughout the world would open their eyes and take the things others say as they were meant to be perceived rather than assuming that everything said pertains to them and intended harm. The general conglomerations of people have developed a chip on their shoulder that gives them a false sense of entitlement and an ego to match. We constantly feel as if we are being attacked from all angles, even from those we love. That is a true demonstration of compassion and love right? Trust? The concept has become foreign to us all. Somewhere along the road we bought into how terrifying the “big bad world” can be and we have lost sight of how far we have come. Not only do we forget how far we have come but all the things that define us as ourselves, how can we ever hope to achieve peace and happiness in the company of others if we don’t even know what it is that sets us apart from the masses of sheeple who have lost their way and will likely never find it again.

My mind is a labyrinth lately, a solitary cell with no windows or doors. The thing that confuses me is that I feel as if I’m safe here, I feel like it is the only place of peace within the chaos of the everyday world. Popular consensus states that I have been withdrawn, secluded, checked-out, and hollow. Yes, I am all of these things. I will not deny that. I have fallen leagues where social interaction is concerned, and my only justification for doing so is that here lately nothing makes sense to me at all. Not the people and their half-hearted attempts at humoring whatever it is that you are saying so that they can return to their infinitesimally more meaningful lives. Everyone spends all their time and effort trying to maintain a social life from their cell phones and never venture out of the confines of their own homes. This wouldn’t bother me at all except the same people will then seemingly in the same sentence vent about how lonely they are and about the lack of friendly faces in their lives. We are all schizophrenic to some degree. In the world today it is impossible not to be unless you have zero access to the Internet and have managed to evade the onslaught of imbeciles dressed as geniuses overthrow the planet with a tool that can never be turned off. How long do you think you would be able to go without your phone or computer? Can you even uphold an intelligent conversation anymore without checking your phone like it is spontaneously going to do something it’s never done before? I would bet a very large sum of money that (locked in my head or not) I understand more in one verbal conversation than most people learn in the first few weeks of knowing someone and I don’t need a Facebook to learn. Long gone are the days of eloquent speech and care for others. I guess what I am getting around to saying is “maybe it is not I who have been off in some elaborate daydream and forgotten to wake up. Technology has shown you that it is easier to enjoy the temporary happiness via watching and reading about other peoples problems than to actually surface and deal with your own crumbling life. I am in my cell because I want to be, who put you in yours?

Where did the beauty and wonder flee to and when did it depart? I feel like if I can just make it back to the exact moment when I changed then I might be able to fix it. To be perfectly honest I have no idea why I withdrew, and it was not intentional at all but if I don’t even know what it is that I am fighting then how am I supposed to instinctually snap back to whatever version of myself would suit the masses with the most gravity currently. I feel like atlas, harnessed to a set of beliefs that reflect a time that was buried decades before I was a thought. An “old soul.” That’s what the people far wiser than I have deemed a fit title for people who still hold on to the base principles of what it means to be a gentleman rather than what we call “Men” today. To the world, I may never be anyone of great note or importance, but I can assure you that whether my mind be a million miles away in the not so distant past or in the present moment absorbing the knowledge at hand; my thoughts are my own. Peers and social media did not plant my ideas in my head. They were calculated to precision deep in the recesses of my mind where I’ve been residing lately.

I am twenty-one years old. I don’t know who I am anymore. I did once, but that was a long time ago. The world has moved on, leaving in its wake the people like me. We are the privileged/cursed few who are filled with a profound and almost overwhelming sense of compassion and love for mankind. People who have ceased to believe that there are still those of us who care in the world. People who have forgotten that life is a truly beautiful experience and it is full of grace all the way down to a molecular level. I am a mortician. I am a madman in costume as a sane person, or at least that’s how I feel most of the time. Everybody has always told me that I needed to be more open and voice my thoughts as well as concerns. They say that it isn’t healthy to bottle things up inside, and they’re probably right, but how am I to expect closure if the issues I voice have yet to be thought of by the recipient at all. It is similar to trying to explain a vibrant color to a blind person. They nod their heads as if comprehension was within their grasp all along. If you watch closely enough though you can watch as their eyes glaze over and their mind departs to a place far away. I’m coming to the realization that there are very few people left who will actually hear what I have to say and analyze it enough to understand what it was that I was trying to say at all. If you had seen the things that I’ve seen, done the things I have done, or experienced pain as I have, you may very well understand why I do the things I do. The only problem is that most of you will soon discover that those shoes don’t fit. I realize that people generally don’t understand my reasoning behind the things I do, and I have no possible way of rationalizing why I do them because very few other people have the capability to look at the world from my perspective. The million-dollar question though is: Where are those select few who can, and why do they persistently suffer in silence? Why do extraordinary people sit idly by and watch as the world slips further and further into the black hole that is society.

I cannot speak for the rest of you, but I feel as if I am shackled to the memory of a better time. As if by remaining there I can find a way to set myself free, and by doing so give others the courage to face their fears alone. The old timers say that history always repeats itself and if that be so then maybe I wont seem so misplaced when everything comes back around again. It is immeasurably frustrating to feel like I am the one out of place simply because I think about the things that other people do not. It is exhausting being an outcast simply because my mind wanders to the places that others are afraid to go the furthest recesses of our minds where our deepest emotions, thoughts, and fears lay dormant.  The answers that are found there are very rarely happy ones, but then again most ghosts are not. I will never understand why people are so terrified and opposed of knowledge. Technology was supposed to democratize us and set us free, but all it’s really done for us is allow us to watch as our country crumble along with the rest of the world and gives us 24 hour a day access to kiddie porn. People never write anymore and when they do complete thoughts are scarce, just a mass of acronyms with no punctuation and no emotion behind them at all. It seems to me that it is just a bunch of stupid people pseudo-communicating with a bunch of other stupid people in a prehistoric style language that resembles more of what cavemen spoke than the King’s English. I guess that’s why they say that ignorance is bliss.

It is hard to care about how far people have fallen if the individual cared very little about who they are as a person to the rest of the world. In a society that relies so heavily on everybody else’s approval it has become hard for me to understand how the “I don’t give a damn about anything” mindset can seem rational even to people as blind as we. That steps beyond the realm of ignorance and into actual stupidity. It doesn’t take much to step outside of the loop, but it’s more than most are willing to do. What does that say about them as people? Are they worth trying to save at all? After you spend so long fighting a losing battle the only logical course of action is to stop fighting. No worries though, they don’t care one way or the other, right? False, I think that the issue is much more often due to internal battles than external. I cannot possibly find the words to explain exactly how much I care about the people I have come to look at as family, and it unexplainably frustrating to have such excruciatingly immense feelings only to find that by uttering them aloud somehow diminishes their gravity. I realize that I am leagues away from being the person that I need to be and I am sorry for the distance that the pursuit of that person has put between myself and the people I love. I just hope that at the end of the day, when all the dust clears they believe that it will be I standing behind them to catch them if they fall and if need be give them the confidence, fortitude, and strength to face their demons alone. I am sorry if I am not the person you want me to be, but just know that I have never given you any less than all I could. I hope that you all find the answers you are looking for. I hope that you do not think me a lesser person because of the things I have said. I hope I have made you laugh and smile. I hope that my voice and words echo through your life in a positive way and that you know that you are not alone. I hope that I have helped you in some way find some clarity. But most of all, I hope you find peace.

To all the people who feel out of place in the world because you have the audacity to voice the questions that others are afraid to ask. To all the people who feel alone even while surrounded by others. To all the outcasts and “freaks.” To all the people who have seen the world, not as individuals of a specific country but rather a human on this magnificent planet we have the privilege of inhabiting. To all the people like me. Do not let the why’s of the world crush the light that makes you different from the norm. Guide, guard, direct, and protect the ones you love at all costs and be kind to everyone. Without pain there would be no compassion, but remember that suffering is very much optional. Liberate yourself from who the world dictates you should be and by doing so you will give others the constitution to find their way back to peace. I’ll always be here if ever you should need me, in some way or the other. Don’t forget to smile, you deserve to whether you feel like it or not. Don’t forget why the people in your life mean so much to you and what they did to get there. Don’t forget the little things. Don’t forget to live. after all we are all architects of fate. Cheers, it is, has been, and will continue to be a pleasure.

With all the sincerity possible, Weston.