The price of dreams

Hello. It’s me. Been a while. This feels awkward. You know, same as seeing an ex at a party or a social gathering and you never knew they gonna be there now you are in a situation to talk after few months? Yea… How you’ve been? All jokes aside it is good once again to write a few lines, even though as I do, I am struggling to find my way around words that need to be said and want to be written. I always had my patches of absence, so to speak, but now I stand in front of you, with my head bowed down in shame, as I have been away for some time. What was it this time? What excuse could I possibly possess that would make my actions of absence valid you might ask? Was it depression again? In part yes, even if I feel sick of using it again and again as my crutch whenever I go away. Was I busy? Most definitely, as my day job took me away more then it has in the past few years, working all day every day even after summer which never happened. But truth be told, as I am standing now in front of you, the few that reads these lines, I have no excuse. I fell in a hole, a familiar place of darkness that felt oh so comfortable, so well known, as it embraced me in its arms, I felt my dark thoughts weeping with me. A familiar friend, from a familiar life I never could escape. But it’s not all that grim. These past few months came with moments of joy, moments of happiness that I was not accustomed to. It is still a strange sensation, to feel good things happening to me. You can not shake that corrosive emotion that with every good deed, every benevolent moment you experience, that you are owing it to someone, as a debt of a loan shark, your mind never stops trembling in fear that someone will come to collect what it’s due. But disregard the ill feeling of dread, ignore the depression that always hangs with me in the corner of my mind, you would have to admit that at the end of the day I left. No matter how valid an excuse, the fact is I need one, means I failed, mostly myself.

So many paths, so many roads to take



That’s how I felt. Like I see roads and paths that stretch as far as the eye can see, me with my confused and dazed expression not knowing which one to take, as the night, heavy as iron, was slowly but surely coming down, warning my soul and lost heart to make up my mind, as I could not stand there forever pondering on the choice that needed to be made. I always felt in some sort of way in that situation, but now it was different. The stakes, the risks, even life itself, started to feel real. Each choice that could brush life, that could strike the heart, be it with joy or terror, lost its allure of romantic slumber that a dream carried and now I found myself in reality of life. That reality slowly chipped my heart away…

I tried a lot of things in life. As a piece of puzzle, I looked for my place to fit in. Years of rejection and trying passed by, until I remembered a passion of a childhood, until my mind became heavy with dark thoughts that seeped through and cracked my brain, leaving permanent scars. It’s been now maybe 4 or 5 years give or take when I attempted to write, a journey in which perhaps I do not have much to show for, but looking back now I, for the first time in my life with certainty and calm heart can say, found my place, my purpose, my fate. In 4 years I written 3 books, hundreds of poems and shit ton of post, mostly talking about my experience with mental health and life that reached hundreds and found themselves in my words and experience. Should I be proud on the progress I made? Surely, and I am, I’ve proven countless of times that I am more then capable of doing this. But generally? I doubt. And how could I not? I worked for almost 10 years jobs that drained my soul, broke my back and mind thinking I was worthless and with the life I lived I tried to live it convincing myself it was true, that that’s the best life can get and that I do not deserve anything better. It took years and lot of talk to convince myself that I can and should do better. In life, as a person. The struggle was real and it’s still ongoing. But now, perhaps more then ever, it’s reaching a pinnacle. Even though I made enough, as I would like to put it, in my 4 years as a writer, still it is not enough for me to keep doing only what I love. I am at a crossroads. Switching countries means I need to find a steady source of income, even if it is putting myself in that position I was for almost 10 years. For the majority of my life I lacked ambition, be it from a mind that prevented and prohibited me to feel joy and satisfaction as I thought I was not worthy of it, be it from a surrounding that I grew up in that made me feel like I had it good where I was and should not strive for more as I might be disappointed, I’ve always struggled to find a path in life and convincing myself I was worthy of it. But writing, ignited a passion that was lost, that I never thought I possessed. It was so much more then just a career path I wished to actually fight for. It was an escape from depression, a ladder that made me climb out of that dark pit I dug out myself, it was belief and hope that I could actually be something and someone more then I was, a way to offer something to the world that would make me worthy of living. And with that new found hope, came fear. After finding something I never thought to gain, came the realisation of what if I am not good enough, what if I was fooling myself into thinking I could actually do this, as perhaps this was just one of my many foolish and failed attempts that would end up in only one way.

Now I stand before you, the few of my many, with a small comeback to these lands of the written word, perhaps no stronger then ever, but more eager to prove my worth. After 8 long years, I will be quitting my job, moving away and will try my best to grab that piece of happiness everyone is mumbling about how good it is. I am curious myself to see if there is some left for me. It has been so long since I dared. Since I made myself live life. I mustered the strength to find out, am I really worth living. As I know, better then most, staying in one place, satisfying yourself with the bare minimum, is not living. As your soul slowly grows dark and the hope and ambitions become a distant wish and memory, you find staying, is just a slow death.

Stagnation is the great life killer.

Worthy of the word



What really defines our own worth? That’s the question I keep asking myself. Is it the deeds we do? Or perhaps how good of a life we live? For most of my life, looking at the mirror I do not recognise the reflection gazing back at me. I do not know the name of that man who’s eyes look like mine, as he feels familiar, yet unknown. I know who I want to be, what I want to do, yet the path of how to do it is unclear. After every major project I make, the first thing that sets in are not the high five’s of well done, neither are the words of encouragement, but thoughts of doubt as why did I make it in the first place, or did I just create a thing no one would even see. To most of you, who dare to create, the natural thought occurs if it will be liked or hated perhaps, while in my mind a single fear exists – to be forgotten. Even now, while the sun is about to rise, writing these words to you, I ask myself, to what end? Do these words matter, do they reach any lone hearts such as mine? Sure, you would say as long as it matters to you, and I understand that premise all so well. But my dear reader, I’ve spent my life talking, masking common words with pretentious lies, cloaked into cheep clothes of intelligence. I, which is weird for a writer, am done with words. Not in a sense of writing, creating, no. But out of fear that whatever I say may be born as an excuse. So what is left? I ask myself the very question, fighting each and every thought that dares to rise, making my mind well awake for days, as sleep is not yet deserved. To take that leap of faith? To jump and trust my instincts, not the rationality of fear? How good it sounds, simple yet complex, as I stand on the crossroads of time, not knowing is my fate right or left.



I admit, I wanted to come here, write something, anything. But with fear that my mind carries too heavy of a burden right now, I stayed back, looking from a distance, wishing for an opportunity. It is this, the lack of dream, that brings me towards you. Broken? As always. Dismayed? Oh please, that’s my natural state, if nothing is wrong I worry why it isn’t. Defeated? Well, no. No. I have been defeated before. Broken time and time again, by my foolish choices, by the depression that held me and the anxiety that shouted I can not do more or better. As a man who lost not all, put plenty, before, now I stand in front of you and ask how can I be defeated? For I wished death before, cursed life to end, now wanting to live, I find it hard living. I have my vision. What to do, what I want to achieve. Perhaps it is not in my destiny, to become more then I was, perhaps I too shall fade, with this new found dawn that I now wait, maybe obscurity is what waits down there in the end. But what can I do? I poured my life, my soul and beating heart to the pieces that were created, few have seen and I still do not know what to think of what am I capable to do. Maybe it is doubt, the all living shadow, that brings me down, or perhaps I think too much, one thing is certain. Defeat, until the heart beats, is an illusion. As long there is breath in my lungs, there will be the will to fight.

For now I retreat, for now I rest, as the dawn rises, I shall greet her properly. And then once again, lay my head down, hoping, that somehow I still am invited to the land of dreams.

For you, the few, yet the many, thank you. For the support here and in general, I hope I muster enough strength to continue to come back quickly, hoping this hiatus was just an anomaly. Till then, keep your head up high, your heart beating true. And never give up on what was dreamt.


Your forever dreamer,
Harry.

Remember the message, spread awareness (P.O.W.)

It is the last day of May. I know I spent the last few days, weeks even talking about “The Lonesome Road” but don’t think I have forgotten this rather important month. Even if my book has an important message, I couldn’t just let this last day go by without stating the obvious. We have months like these to remember, to make the unaware aware, to speak up to those who know less and yet there is a certain problem I have with these kind of things. As if it makes us use that one month to speak about certain issues, with such passion, with such numbers, and as time passes by so do the thoughts that were put on such issues. But time passes, it awaits for no one, yet these struggles stay. So let us not forget, let us remember, not just in May, but in June, August and December, through out the year, that we shouldn’t be afraid to speak up about our burdens, our struggles and we should not shun, but help, not forget, bur rally, not blame, but understand.

The message stands

Why is it so hard to care? Is it because the world is filled with enough problems, so we just choose on which one to focus our mind on? Or is it perhaps the question of some problems are just bigger then other? Whatever it may be, one thing is for sure, we should never forget. Forget how to be humans, how to be friends, brothers and sisters. We shouldn’t forget how to care, how to understand. Because I believe there it is hidden, the solution of all problems, no matter which one specifically we choose to fight for. Just remember to be human. As I said, May might be over, but as with a lot of these months were we choose to spread the awareness, we should never forget to care. This world can be much sometimes. Our environment can be harsh and unforgiving, but it is up to us to carry the message, to hold the banner and speak up, every month, every year and every day. Let us never forget to be there for others, creating a safe haven to speak, to talk, to show we do want to understand. The sad truth is one man can not change the world. But one man can make it a bit better. And isn’t that the whole point? If we all attempt to do it, if we all try, in the end there will not be just one, but many. And who knows, we might just change the damn world after all.

Be human

Mental health issues will perhaps one day be accepted as that, problems we don’t need to hide. As many problems, there is always a certain amount of distrust, or the lack of trust, when we try to open up, when we try to speak up. We often tend to think what the person who is about to receive that information will think. Will they judge? Will they just shrug their shoulders and say its nothing, man up? We create the environment we live in. We create the world we inhabit. It is dangerously reckless to claim we can’t do anything about it when we all have the power to make a difference. But it takes a step. A leap of faith that at first seems so insignificant, so small, as in why would I even do it, what difference would it make? To the world? Perhaps none. To one person? It can be life changing. Like I said, perhaps one individual can not change the world, but pulled together, we as a society, we can damn well do some damage. But we can not think that small, one step is meaningless. As if we all take one step forward, it is no longer a single step, but a jump, a leap inside of an ocean that could create a tidal wave. But, to do that, we must remember, stay human. Don’t let ego make your decisions. Every action matters, everything we do affects someone, we can not think so highly that we are alone in this universe, in this world, just look around and you shall see. Sometimes we all just need a hand, to stand up. Be it a tough life, a crappy day or just a bad luck weekend, offer that hand to someone who is down, and who knows? You just might make a difference.

To those who fell

I keep on repeating myself, I know. Sometimes I just can’t help it. But I felt how you are feeling and I still do. Everyday is a struggle. Everyday you feel like you need to find a reason, no matter how big or small, just to get through to the night. I know. Believe me. Sometimes you just try no to think about it, go on to work, out, just shoving your emotions in a corner, because it’s easier to deal with them when they come crushing back when you get home later, alone on the floor of your room, trying to deal with the crap you tried to just for one day, forget. This life, my beautiful people, is just a trial of run and error. We make mistakes. We all do. It is just human nature, no one is perfect. We all carry scars, just some of us have bigger ones. But even if we make mistakes today, no one guarantees us we will make new ones tomorrow. Trial of error and run. Your run this life, doing best you could, making mistakes, until one time you get it right. And even if now or sometimes feels like you can’t get it right, you will. You have the strength to stand right now, today. You made it this far. Through all the pain and suffering, standing today against the odds. You will make it through tomorrow. It is hard to trust. We look at humanity with open eyes and sometimes we want to cry. But we can not judge it whole with prejudice. Open your mind and your heart and who knows? Humanity might just surprise you.

And for the rest? Don’t judge. Extend your hand, make and effort to understand. It is already hard for us to speak about it as when we do, we speak with fear. Make us hope, as hope is what we need, to show that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow, the sun might shine just a tad bit more brightly.

Speak the message throughout the year. Break the stigma. Break the prejudice. Open your minds and heart. Understand. And be human.

P.O.W.: Mental health awareness

Whenever I write, no matter is it a regular blog post or a poem, be it May or December, I will always try to speak up on the matters of mental health. I am happy we got a whole month dedicated to point out the awareness of a huge issue that bothers a lot of people, but like with a lot of issues that we find today, be it race, sexual orientation or religion, I am stunned how little it feels we as a society make progress.

When I write these lines, I speak out of experience, knowing well there are good people, open minded humans who listen and dare to understand. Yet after so many years fighting my depression, hitting the lowest of the low and now rising up above a bit, I am still shocked seeing that it is still hard for some to even open up, afraid they are going to be judged for the problems they face, as if their friends or family will see them for something there are not, as if we all are afraid to be seen as broken.



Does the mind shatter if the heart follows?



Even if it is the case, are we not all broken things at the end of the day? To all those who judge and dare to say they are normal and we are not, I dare you, show me what, how or why does that make you different then me? When did we stop judging the human behaviour on the severity of the effort taken and started to claim all who are different must be cast aside? Since when did we undermine the power of the word spoken, as if it became so easy to judge, to blame, when did we stop taking the hard road and actually tried to understand? These are dangerous times, where we cast stones first then think about it, no matter how advance we get, how much the society and the norms change, there is still that narrow minded mindset that pulls us down. Be it with mental health or other issues, I feel like no matter how much we go forth as a society, there will still be bigotry and hate on things there shouldn’t ever be in the first place. There are allies. Always. And I do not look at the world with that grim of an eye. Always, hope is present, hope that bit by bit we will create a more tolerate world. But I am afraid, seeing that we stopped thinking before we make action, as if we became hungry for attention our words create, not thinking what they really mean or what they do to the individual that they are meant for. As humanity we should strive for a better future, a future that can not be achieved if our eyes stay shut, our minds closed and our mouth opened. There is danger in words, a certain responsibility we must take.

We all fight with our mind



It’s funny. Years passed by, even knowing depression is a thing you never defeat truly but fight daily, a part of me still hoped for an eternal peace. I still find myself cooped up in my room, sitting on the floor, fighting the thoughts that sometimes still get louder then my own voice. Even after all I’ve been through, I still hear it sometimes, dark thoughts claiming the world would be better if I wasn’t here. Suicidal thoughts still stay, backed by constant doubt of my work and anxiety that life won’t ever change for the better, that there is only downward for me. I learned how to cope with them, the constant reminders of my failures, though talk, though my work. I am happy I was wrong in a lot of things. There are people who have your back, who are willing to listen and even if sometimes this is out of their pay grade, an advice isn’t needed, most of the times listening helps. I think in the end we all desire that, not even guidance or advice, but understanding. I beg you, if you see a friend or a family member hurting, fighting with something you think you never could help with, talk. Just that. Let them know they ain’t alone. Because that’s all we require. This world is fucked up as it is, it’s cruel and vicious and even if there is 7 billion of us on it, you can feel so alone in the vast space of humanity. Like I said, it is so easy to judge, say things we don’t give a second thought about, but is it really that hard to be there for someone? Or just even to try…

I know the feeling. Waking up, clinging to the smallest things that could help you get through the day, never stopping, as if you do you will be faced with the question, what now? What’s the point? Life in its complexity is simple. Sometimes we do not need to give meaning to things that don’t require it. Live. As we all deserve to try, no one can tell us or undermine our efforts, those who do never felt the pain we did. Love. Be happy. We all deserve it. No matter what you feel right now, no matter what convincing argument your mind creates, all people deserve to be happy. Who are we to say otherwise? Who are we to try to undermine the joy of life? And that is the hardest part, isn’t it? To try. To get up, fighting the all so familiar thought of “Why even bother?”, as if we create in our head more cons then pros for life. Yes, it is hard. Yes, we will fail. We are destined to fail and fall, it is in our human nature. Same as it is to rise against all odds, to strive for better things and achieve the impossible. We often cling to the darker side of the coin, never even bothering to see the bright one. It is time. You deserve your happiness. Get up, seize it!


May, mental health awareness month



I am passionate when it comes to this topic. I often think back to the dark days, where I was on the edge and fell down a few times. Perhaps there is a reason I live. Perhaps it was all just a chance. Depression takes even the strongest of us, even the best of minds can crumble under the sheer weight of the world we put on our shoulders as we at that moment feel it’s our right to carry the heavy burden. Even after all these years I find it hard and scary to talk about it, my depression, the suicide attempts and all the wrong decisions I made along the way. Be it destiny or chance that put me here, I don’t want people to feel the fear and pain I did. We all must take at least a bit of responsibility for our actions, our words and take the hard road sometimes. Be aware of the people around you. Don’t be afraid to help, even if you think you can’t. The effort counts, the understanding must be there and us as humans must show compassion.

To all of you, who these words could find, know, your strength and value exceeds the current perception you possess. We all deserve happiness. We all deserve life. We all deserve to stand up. Love to you all, you beautiful people,
Harry.

P.O.W.: When depression blocks life

I have never experienced a block while writing one of these. Perhaps it is the consistency that clogs the so called pipeline of imagination that provides the lively inspiration where we draw our plots from. In my short time I have experienced some instances where my depression renders me useless, as the rage boils that every single letter I put down feels unworthy. Combined with the famous imposter syndrome you become a well timed bomb which destroys more then it creates. So the question beggs, how do we deal with it when depression sits on our shoulders, like a giant boulder preventing us to breath?



Distance gives perspective



Sometimes pushing through it is the worse option out of the two. No matter the strength we possess, and we all do have some even if it feels at time you are tired and want to give up, pushing through with your head against a wall could prove fatal. It is OK to take a break. Sometimes we can’t battle with our thoughts but rather we need to understand them, argue with your mind rather then ignore what it says. We all carry a burden. To some it is less heavy to the rest it is more, but never more then we can take. Depression is a condition that can not be beaten, it is a condition we learn how to cope with. You never beat your demons, you just learn how to live among them. So there is no shame if you fall from time to time. In a constant struggle, no one can win all the time. Perhaps people who don’t experience this won’t understand, but we fight a battle each and every day. So you have to remember. It is not the battle that is important to win, but rather the complete war. At the end of the day, we all are just human. We will continue to fall, continue to make mistakes, the important thing is not to give up, know that your life is worth it and sometimes take a breath. Distance yourself. Look things from a different angle and the solution will arrive.



What you do has value



Sure, even if I speak about writing specifically, I am looking at a more general topic in mind. Life. Whatever you do, you will have doubts about it. Questioning am I really good at this, should I even try, why do I even bother? Because you can. Because you must. We, the few who fight with our mind constantly, have the strength to fight for a better life. If no one told you, know this, it takes lot of strength to come on top of your thoughts every day. So never doubt you have what it takes to do what you want. We all doubt, it is in our human nature. Whatever we create, the more we look at it, the more it seems like it’s worthless. If you write 300 pages, reread it a dozen times, each time you gonna think of it as a worthless project. But to a fresh pair of eyes, it might seem as something beautiful. In this life we can’t walk alone. As much as we want to be alone sometimes, no matter the allure of solitude, we need to resist it’s call. People give you perspective. People give you direction. The right people can steer you, build you and put you down when you need to be. Life is complicated as it is. We can’t go in it by our own. There is never shame in asking for help, for an advice or for some company. Because it is a lone road ahead.



What was broken can be rebuilt



We all fall. It is an unavoidable event that life provides. It is our choice to stay down or to rise back up again. But never think you deserve the fall. Because I know, it is so easy to think we deserve the pain we get. The hard thing is admitting to yourself that you deserve some good in your life as well. That good comes hard. That’s why most of the time we choose to stay down, as it is the easy thing to do. But when you look what you get by doing so, it gets scary. The easy thing to do is not always the right thing to do. So get up. So what if you fall again? Don’t be afraid of it. Once you know the fall, the dark that it brings, you will fight for the light that awaits up top.



Least words



So here, I promised I would try to be consistent and here it is. Two weeks in a row, wow. I am trying to built this site, with consistent content I believe it can be a good thing. The Process of writing is my way of saying to those who feel the same as I do that they ain’t alone. The poetry I make is just my daily thoughts and emotions put to words. Perhaps it’s decent, perhaps it’s not. But I am willing to believe it will get to the point that the content as a whole will be better. I want to bring my short story project back so stay tuned for that. I want to say to the few who read these lines that I am grateful and honoured. Love to you all beautiful people and until next week,
Harry.

My book “The Lonesome Road ” is available for preorder: https://www.5310publishing.com/book/thelonesomeroad

Process of Writing: Why is it easier to undermine then to understand?

I am sick of people wanting more. Pleasing their every need, indulging their every criticism leaves them always wanting more, opening the question why does the majority at the first sight of trouble disregard your accomplishments and good deeds and latches on to your flaws?

It is in our human nature, to please if not everyone, then at least the people we love. But where do we draw the line? After how many good things done does our desire to be good to those we love, turns in an endless struggle of no conviction? When do we admit to ourselves that we are fighting windmills, just pushing the heavy boulder up a steep hill, only for it to roll us over?

I wonder what’s the point

Yea, I know 3th post in 3 days, what? Is it possible I became consistent? Perhaps, as I threw all out of my life that distracted me, I am now more then ever focused on my work. And I admit, I have not done it on my own, as it was blatantly pointed out that I sorely needed the change. I accept a critique, be it from the work I do or the life that I try to un mess ( is that even a word?), be it as it is I try not to be a fool any longer and I accept perhaps there are things I know less about or things my eyes simply don’t see. So when someone near and dear to me suggested that I get rid of all distractions to get down on my work, I listened. But then I noticed a curious thing. The more you listen to people, the more you try to please them, you quickly see there is no end to their requests. One thing leads to another, you find yourself doing a Sisyphous task, where no matter how much you do, they always find flaws in your efforts. And I am fine with the occasional pointing out of the mistakes I do, but when it becomes constant, and it’s not just the mistakes that are being pointed out but your endeavours, your efforts, by people who do less then you, by people who sit idly by as life passes them, you begin to wonder, to who do you listen to? Who are you trying to please, as with each and every thing you do, the only thing you begin to feel inside is the feeling of your own self worth decreasing.

And I wonder now. To whom is my inner peace, my self satisfaction and self progress worth more, to those who apparently claim they know something I don’t, or to myself?

After all the mistakes done, I try to live by only one rule. Don’t be an asshole. As an old friend of mine said, there are many people in this world. To be an asshole is the easiest thing in it, but to be a gentleman, that takes effort. So put some in your life.

And since I try to live by that, I try not to be so cynical all the time, I try to give people a chance. But what I found, at least in my surroundings, is that all people do is talk. There is always a speech, there is always a cautionary tale of their life, with the moral story to not make the same mistakes they did and that’s it. With all that talk you would think that they would listen to their own advice. Some do, I can’t deny that. But look at the majority and you shall see, as if they think that talk is enough and it exempts them from following their own words.

As an old friend of mine said, there are many people in this world. To be an asshole is the easiest thing in it, but to be a gentleman, that takes effort. So put some in your life.

The trick is your surroundings

And that’s true. My misfortune is I surrounded myself with those kind of people who just sit and observe your mistakes, never minding their own. You wanna know the trick for a happy life? Surround yourself with friends, people you can call brothers and sisters, who will push you, not pull you down. People who would dare to tell you the harshest of words when you really need to hear them, but who will as well motivate you to push against all odds. We have two families. One we are born in, which we don’t chose and have no say so over it. And the one we create ourselves. We can choose who we surround ourselves with, so even if you are in a toxic environment, don’t be afraid to leave it. Your own self worth and life depends on it, trust me.

It makes all the difference in your life, in your work, in your happiness. Who are we to sacrifice that, our own happiness for the judgement of people who do less then us and yet demand more?

Good friends are worth their weight in gold. We can choose to be alone. But solitude is addictive, once you experience the sweet silence, it can pull you in as nothing will ever feel the same. Same as it is our choice to stay with people who undermine us, people who claim our potential is low and that we can’t do anything but fail. So if life is a struggle, why not fight to find those who will shine the light in our life so when we return the favour, it won’t feel like we are doing less for nothing?

We have two families. One we are born in, which we don’t chose and have no say so over it. And the one we create ourselves.

Your worth is always higher

What are we afraid off? Is it the eternal fear that if we shoot high the fall will be greater? But isn’t the truth that the fall is inevitable? We all fall eventually, so why are we afraid of something that is bound to come? Why not if it’s already destined to happen, what costs us more to try harder, to push more to see us greater then the rest of the world does? Maybe, just maybe, we will succeed and isn’t that worth it? That small chance, that slim percentage of success is worth the struggle. Because, the world will always try to undermine you, they will always try to sell your worth as less then it already is, so who are we going to listen? As the eternal question ponders, why is it easier to undermine then understand?

Maybe, just maybe, we will succeed and isn’t that worth it? That small chance, that slim percentage of success is worth the struggle.

The parting words

It’s been eventful, these past few months, to put it lightly. With all that’s happened I try to find solitude and salvation in my writing and it helps. I thank you all, you beautiful people, on the kind words of comfort, on the inspiring thoughts of motivation. It really means the world to me, knowing that the words I write are not sent to the endless void as there are some who still hear it. So what’s next? I’ll try to be consistent, if not every day, then almost. As I am editing my third book and the second is on its way, I couldn’t be more proud of the effort that bears fruit. I am glad to see that even with bad tongues telling me it was useless, that I can prove them wrong. So don’t give up. Know your worth. Know your purpose. And always strive for better things, as you deserve them. Love to you all and until next time,
Harry.

If you want to check out my upcoming book that is available for preorder here is the link: https://www.5310publishing.com/book/thelonesomeroad

Process of Writing: Tonight my scars bled

I must’ve written this more then a dozen times over the past month or so, always leaving it unfinished as there is a lot to be said, lot to be discussed and lot to get off my chest. No matter how many times I write a draft for this I come to the same conclusion, I’ve failed. I started this particular segment to get down and personal and I’ve be the first to admit it, it’s hard for a closed off introvert like myself, who suffers with anxiety that constantly goes off like a siren and a depression so heavy that with my baggage my total weight would surpass a ton easily. But no matter how many times I rewrite and make this “Process of writing”, these are just lame excuses. I’ve been through stuff over the course of my life, done most of them and not all were good. But hey, like all I am human. There was a time, when my cockier (if that’s even a word) and foolish younger self, who thought he knew all, would say humans are incapable of change. No matter what we do in the end of the day, we are just an animal who can wear sheep’s clothing but underneath, our bloody fangs still hang. And there were days when I would agree with my dumber self. But after all, today, I can say people surprise you. No matter the depth of the hole they dug, there are still some who are willing to learn, willing to change and there are some who after all the bad they’ve gone through, try to see the good in the world. Coz’ the harsh truth is, there is so much bad in it, but those little specs of kindness pave the way of the future.

How deep do you carry your scars?

Like I said, there was a time when I thought better of myself. A little too much. I’ve cursed the naivete of the human nature as it was common for my fellow humans to betray and do worse by their fellow men then actually do something to change that. It’s stupid, now when I look back, I wore my scars even then, but for some reason, instead od learning how to heal, I chose to suffer further, doing stupid things, as if that pain and that well known feeling that my life was worthless was, home. It took me a long time and effort to admit I was wrong and now after all these years I feel bad for every dumb thing I did, as I feel the consequences of my actions, pricking up the broken pieces of my mind.

Funny how you look back at a certain point in your life when you thought pain won’t get any worse. Now I continue to feel it even more I would say, but facing it rather then wallowing in it, it changes your perspective. We wear our scars deep inside, and that is not necessary a bad thing, but what we do about it, do we sit in the puddle of our own pain or chose to stand up for ourselves, that there makes all the difference.

I’ve had a rough past few months. December was the hardest. First I slice my leg (by my own clumsiness), giving myself a mandatory two weeks in bed as I couldn’t move much. No big deal, after you experience your mind breaking down, physical pain ain’t so hard. Of course I feel bad because I am clumsy, but a warm bed and load of Netflix in a cold December for few weeks? There are worse things, right? Two weeks pass, finally get my bandages off, I am all healed and as soon as I go downstairs, after not even 48 hours, COVID. Look, even I in my mind who thought about the end for so long, was scared shitless about it. My whole family got it, but thankfully we managed to slip by without any bigger issues. Except my grandmother. Unfortunately a woman who I owe a lot, who was like my own mother and raised me left us on Christmas Eve, late in the night, right after my uncle left us as well a day prior. Two people I loved and cherished left so suddenly and in a span of a day, Christmas felt so grim. We tried to laugh and remember them, honoring how they lived, by telling all sorts of stories and interactions. Safe to say, my heart suffered hard breaks, my soul was shaken before and my mind teared itself down in the past, but sometimes it surprises us how fragile our strength really is.

From ashes a new dawn rises

The end of the year was bad, followed by January where I had to undergo a small procedure, nothing serious, but you can imagine after a hard month even the smallest things get on your nerves. I admit, I failed, closing myself from those who were closest to me, I haven’t seen my friends in few months now, I think it’s getting to a half year mark already. I still am finding those lost pieces, trying to glue myself together. I catch myself, having moments of total breakdown, crying and worrying as my anxiety is on all time high, few weeks ago it would suffocate me by hearing the smallest of unknown sounds.

But I am still here. Getting back in it. I know I left the blog and twitter be, as you can imagine I couldn’t even see any interaction, let alone do any. Before the cut in December and before all went down, I was great, hopeful, working hard on a new book, writing few hours every day and preparing for the release of my book that’s coming out shortly “The Lonesome Road”. But it’s funny. How suddenly things can change, how we can feel on top of the world, stronger than ever, ready to take whatever the world throws at us. And then… How easy we break, it baffles me, the nature of human fragility, all it takes is one big push and we go tumbling down. It’s so easy to fall. To break. I would know. I lost count on how many times I fell down, pushed by the world, by other, by myself and how many times I chose to stay broken.

All until one point. When you face the wall, with the sudden realisation, one more fall and you break forver or you get off your lazy ass and start climbing. It’s so easy to fall. And to rise? Only our mind has the strength to break it… And to mend it.

What’s next?

Look you beautiful people, would it be much of me to promise to continue this like I originally planned, weekly opening my black beating heart to you few who dare to read my nonsense? Love to, especially how I feel after finally finding the balls to write it, like a stone was cast off my chest. Will the poems keep coming and be equally good? Yes, but good? Don’t push it. Like I said in my tweet, I’ve been working hard as I found the strength to write my third book which is, believe it or not almost finished. I estimate a week or so and then we go on polishing the bastard. But until then? I am proud to announce for those who don’t know, my book “The Lonesome Road” is almost coming out and the pre-orders are open, so for anyone who would like to do so, the link will be below. No pressure, you make your own choices, but this book means a lot of me, not just because it was the first I ever wrote, but this book brought me out of my hole I dug, gave me the strength to fight my depression and the realisation I have the strength necessary to do so. It is a beautiful tale of a lost world and a man who found himself in it, trying to figure out what happened. But what makes it special, it’s the fact it is a book about people like me, people like all of us, who feel deep down and are seeking the strength to rise above. Yes this is a book of mystery, fantasy, filled with puzzling questions of morality with all sorts of twists and turns you wouldn’t even believe. But, first and foremost, it is a tale to let you all know, what you feel, we all been there. We’ve all at some point felt alone, broken and misunderstood, shun by the world and shun by ourselves. This book is a message to all of you who feel that way. That you are not alone. We hear your struggle. We see your pain. And we stand by your side.

I would take this opportunity to thank my publisher 5310 who made this all a possibility and for putting up with me, you guys are simply amazing. Their links, as well the link to pre order my book will be below.

But before I go, I will leave you with a few parting words. I have known pain and headache twice over. I have been down without hope and above with eyes wide open. It all comes and goes. Sadness, happiness, heartbreak and sorrow. One thing that remains is your purpose. Seek it. Find it. And never let it go. As we are all worth something. And we all have our part to play. Until next time and love to you all beautiful people.

Harry.

Learn about my upcoming book “The Lonesome Road” and pre order here: https://www.5310publishing.com/book/thelonesomeroad

5310 Publishing website: https://www.5310publishing.com/

5310 Publishing Twitter: https://twitter.com/5310Publishing?t=xOuOEzNP3Ci96_5C9QaBug&s=09

5310 Publishing Instagram: https://instagram.com/5310publishing?utm_medium=copy_link

Do we really matter? (The price of life)

There is always this one thought in our mind that lingers and eventually comes forth. To some it might be a whisper which can be easily pushed away and to others it comes as a roaring thunder that never leaves our sight, a seed that grows rapidly, unchallenged it spreads to the darkest corners of our minds where it thrives. And to us, the few that are unable to ignore it and make it go away, it becomes our great companion in the darkest days that come, a friend that possess some of the most reasonable insults you will ever hear, a supposed ally that will aid you in getting rid of all hope that you yearn for, all the friends you wish to be with, as he will convince you love and family are just an unnecessary burden. And in that enveloped darkness is where our own humanity is tested.

The world doesn’t care

The month of September is suicide prevention month and especially this week is the suicide prevention week with the 10th of September being suicide prevention day. First of all I would like to say as with mental health awareness month, I am glad we devote more attention to mental health and the bag of problems it brings. But don’t let it be one month, one year, one day… Look to the people you love the most, to the person next to you, read the signs and be open and ready to help. Be patient, be caring and understanding. I remember a friend of mine who went throught tough time and looked for a solution by opening to one of our other friends. And he got an advice I despise the most. He said to him why would you even think about suicide, it’s selfish, think about your family. To an extent I agree, as someone who unfortunately went on that road twice (almost three times) it’s those we leave behind that still feel our pain after we are gone. But what most don’t understand and what my friend who said that didn’t get is why does no one feel our pain before? Does it take those drastic measures for others to take interest in our suffering? They would think we only seek attention but in reality we are lost, wanting nothing more then to find our way back, wanting nothing more then comfort and understanding. But unfortunately my friends, the world doesn’t care. Mostly… As it is easier to judge then to understand. But not all share that enthusiasm to judge without a thought, no…  There are us who have been through the hell of self doubt you are going through,  there are us who know how it feels standing at the bottom in that darkness not seeing a way out. And trust me there is a way out. So don’t be hesitant. Reach out. To me, to others… I know there are lines to phone and I won’t judge their work (even if I have heard some dubious stuff about how they operate) remember that even in your darkest moments, when the world seems bleak, there are still people you can turn to. But as it is with trust, easy it is given, harder it is proven. It can be hard to confide in someone, fearing their reaction might change the view their eyes hold over us. And yes it can be difficult to dump that burden we carry on some, trusting them even with the slight sight of it, in fear they would run or judge, as much as it pains me to admit, there are still good men roaming around, willing to help, to listen, not for their own selfish gains, but rather out of the goodness of their own hearts. Because that’s how we as humanity redeem ourselves, that’s how we fix our own species and this world, by putting a bit faith in our fellow human and repaying that faith when it is given to us.

I thought I could turn off my consciousness
But there was a price to pay

How hard is it to get out of that hole? Perhaps some of you are right now in it, perhaps you know some that are, but let me tell you something, it is a living hell that doesn’t end. As how can one escape it, the perfect prison designed by the only person who knows your deepest fears, darkest secrets that keep you embedded in that cold black chasm, as the worst prison we can find ourselves in are the ones we design. I can lie, say that even when you manage to pick up the broken pieces of your mind and soul, even if you somehow draw enough strength where there is none and that if you manage to spark the dark pyre of your heart with hope that was nonexistent that all will be well after, but sadly it is not the case. Even if you manage to do all those extraordinary feats and somehow pull yourself up, the fight won’t be over just yet. I am sorry my friend, but it will never be over. Forever there will be scars, invisible to the naked eye, hidden deep in your soul, that in any given moment you look down deep, you will find yourself again in a war with doubt and despair. But do not mistake this as an act of discouragement, no… As you should be proud. Not all had the strength or support to stand back again. We all lost friends and loved ones to that struggle. I would dare to say us standing out of the shadows that our mind casts is a privilege. An honor. Even if sometimes we want to give up, even if sometimes we will have doubts in every and all action we make, no matter how big or small it might be, I feel we owe to ourselves to think better. Of us. Of the world. Of others. That it can be better. That we deserve better. I feel like we deserve to hope. But not foolish one that had put is in that hole in the first place. I believe we owe to ourselves to think that even if we get up, try again and again that after all the fucking struggle, after all that pain, that all of that wasn’t for nothing. That after all, even we the broken creatures of the doubt, deserve to be happy.

You will relapse. Might bend the knee under the heavy burden, the untold pressure of not knowing does tomorrow bring something bad or not. You might fall, not wanting to get back up, think what’s the fucking point? And that is OK. At the end of the day, remember, we are all the same. Just human. It’s in our nature to fail. To try. To succeed. To be happy. So let’s be, just that… Only human. A flawed perfection.

At the end of the day, remember, we are all the same. Just human. It’s in our nature to fail. To try. To succeed. To be happy. So let’s be, just that… Only human. A flawed perfection.

Final words of encouragement

I will leave you with this. When someone reaches out, remember, they are showing trust, so repay it by listening, taking notice, by caring. We all struggle with life. And if we can make someone’s life a bit less dark, then perhaps our own will seem a bit more brighter. Most of us fear judgement, so don’t be hasty. As we all seek one thing. To be understood. So show love, not pity. Show care, not judgement. And perhaps we all as a species can look for a better tomorrow. And that’s what I wish to you my friends. May your tomorrow be a bit less bleak, a bit more brighter and may the only tears you shed be the one of happiness. Love you all you beautiful people,

Harry.

POW: Professionally wasting time

I know, I know. Even I am sick of it. I am here, then I go missing for a week, then hey here I am again. For the few people that read my stuff and follow me on twitter they must think I am half assing this, not taking it seriously or something, coming every few days or so even here and gracing everyone with my presence. But that’s not the case though. For the few of you who follow me, they know that my life and the reason of my hair going gray in my late 20s is this damn day job. But alas, 15 or so days are left and then I can take again a day off, which it will make, what? 3 whole months of day to day work, every damn day? Jesus… But sure, you can say that I had even an hour off and why didn’t I create, why I avoided twitter and the whole ordeal?
Not counting that I spent the few hours I had passing out of sheer exhaustion and editing the upcoming book, I just wasn’t in a good place. And for everyone who tried to do something be it writing or trying to find success in any part of life, you know how bad your performance can get if your head and heart ain’t in the right place. You want perfection, or whatever comes close to it. Be that as it may, I still have to say I feel guilty.

Professionally wasting time and half assing life


That would be my official title if anyone asked. A writer? Perhaps. Poet? Sometimes. But an idiot who jumps ahead without a second thought and who is a master in procrastination? Definitely! OK, with all things considered, having my life force sucked by my job and the scary week where everyone around me had Covid except me (get your vaccines don’t screw around) I got to say as far excuses go, I am solid. But, there is always a but, I feel guilty. Not many of you know the book that is coming out “The Lonesome Road” is my second book. First technically as I wrote it about 3 years ago, if you want to be specific, bit that’s semantics. I had written a book last year which I am in the same time proud of and disgusted by. Proud because I wrote every day for like 2-3 hours deep in the night. I worked the same job, not as intense I may add, but yet again every day I retained a certain dose of commitment of which I was proud. Sheer determination took over as I was adamant to finis this. But then again it brings a certain dose of pain, as the story by itself was good, actually great in my humble opinion, but filled with mistakes and putting it myself, dipping the toes in self publishing made me realise this was a big endeavour for me. Yet I made my peace with it, as it is failure that is the necessary part of growth. I took my lessons from it, as it was necessary to make those certain mistakes for me to learn, to grow. After that, I changed my view on life as well. Having a mental breakdown that same year helped to it. But it was a harsh lesson that was necessary, that no matter the mistakes we make in life, no matter how many or how big, with the will to change, it might get better. Now I am still waiting for those better days, but every single good thing that comes my way, no matter how small, I take it in appreciating it in full, knowing how rare of an occurance it is.

“…no matter how many or how big, with the will to change, it might get better.”

Be proud of your steps

Yes, I feel ashamed. Sometimes I am afraid I will go stagnant again, falling a victim to my depression, throwing all the progress I made as a person away and get back to staying in bed all day not feeling well as I make peace with my destiny. You think to fail is the biggest pain of life? Then you never have been laying down pressured by the darkness of your thoughts, wasting your life doing nothing or doing stupid things, watching those around you progressing to better parts of their life while you are being left behind, left only with your own thoughts that taunt you. It can get bad. But I feel a measure of a person is the ability to wish for a change.  No matter how many mistakes we make, if there is a will to change, to be better then the toxic and bad person we are, I think there is still hope. That’s why I feel ashamed now. I became a person that if he doesn’t use every usable second of the short day he has to create and write, to progress towards his goal, I am afraid I am going back. There is this saying. You gaze into the abyss long enough, the abyss gazes back. I have been to that dark place, I know what’s there. And I don’t want to go back. I have been there making mistake after mistake, thinking my life was worthless, so what’s a new mistake or two. I have watched my friends and family progress to better things in life and I wasn’t jealous. Why would I? How can I be when I knew I don’t deserve to be happy, to succeed in life. To all who had been there, you know well you fall so deep you hit the floor and face the question. Was it enough of that kind of life and will you get your shit together or do you give up and continue to fall. Trust me, after you see the bottom of that abyss, you find true fear of what can happen. I believe progress requires mistakes. But it can be hard. To be broken, not knowing how to ask for help, but desperately wanting some. My advice? No matter how scary and hard it looks to get up from that bottom and climb despite being down it for so long, trust me, it’s far more scarier what awaits you down if you stay. So believe you deserve better, that it can be better. And it will.

“No matter how scary and hard it looks to get up from that bottom and climb despite being down it for so long, trust me, it’s far more scarier what awaits you down if you stay. So believe you deserve better, that it can be better. And it will.”

Preaching again

Seems I can’t help it! Damn. I start talking about one thing and immediately it turns into a TED talk. Perhaps it’s the boring person in me, I don’t know what to say as my life is pretty dull. But I like to believe these insights and my experience could provide some comfort and assistance to some of you who are going through this, to let you know it gets better, even if right now things might seem bleak. You stayed in the dark for this long and it didn’t kill you, then trust me you have the courage to walk on into the light. I got to admit it feels good I found a brief moment to sit and write another POW. Process of writing was an idea for me not just to practice writing and open up, be more personal, but to share my experiences and to motivate others to share. I know August had been pretty silent from my end, but here’s hoping that will change in the upcoming weeks. My head is getting there, getting into that good place of strength and I can feel the spark igniting once again. So here’s to you all, to all of you who still seek your spark, your way out of the dark, may you find it, may you stay strong and resilient in your quest for a better tomorrow. To you my friends, wherever you may be, I wish you all the best. Stay strong and moving.

Much love,
Harry.

POW: Is fear the great motivator?

Hello, it’s me. I swear there is a meme opportunity hidden somewhere around here. Well, perhaps for an another time. Anyway, I am still pretty much alive, even if I feel far from it (really far from it) and I am trying my best to keep the site at least alive. I gave my best shot to keep at least this segment on a tight weekly schedule, but with work every damn day and the blasted heat I think I can be forgiven, at least a bit. But I promise you I am still hard at work on my writing stuff behind the scenes, even if I now occasionally pop by Twitter and say hi, I assure you the new book is being written and the old one edited. Let just say I had my best intentions and even a clean plan to make content weekly for the Word Den, but the limit of the human body kept me in place as it seems so easy to pass out every night when I come back. So at least I think I owe one POW even if I don’t have a recurring theme to talk about. Kinda planned POW to be constructed like that, think of it as an episode of the Simpsons, it starts with one event that somehow leads to a whole another one that becomes the theme of the episode. Jesus, I really must be done and dusted if I am starting to compare this to a cartoon. Well, be it that I am reaching the limit of the human body and the soreness of the muscles is slowly making its way to my brain or the lack of rest and sleep fuled my insanity even further and I am really beyond saving. But enough of rambling let’s do this!

Fear itself

I said perhaps now more then a dozen times I wanted to not just use this segment as an opportunity to connect, but to try and share, become more personal, not just as a writer but as a human being in general. So for this rare appearance on the site, I want to talk about fear. They say fear is the great motivator. Who the fuck even thought of that? Yea perhaps when you are trapped in a death binding situation where all is down to fight or flight, but how can fear be the great motivator if it is occurring in more then just a moment? What happens when it fills the entirety of our days, when it sleeps and wakes up, spending every waking hour next to our already near broken husks who really don’t need any more motivation to slow or completely shut down? Fear ain’t the great motivator it is the greatest set back in life that like a bully, you let it push you far enough, it shall never stop kicking you around. And lately it doesn’t let me stand up. I know it is the product of my mind, the depression followed now with constant anxiety where I fear even the sound of the passing car on the street, but combine it with work everyday which doesn’t just take a toll on you physically but mentally, you end up getting a jumpy depressed lad who is scared of his own shadow.

I can’t make excuses. I won’t. I am aware of my absence from the site and from twitter and Instagram and what not (follow me there, shameless plug), but I assign that level of absence on the crushing work schedule I have. Believe me when I say and I do not exaggerate, I come every night from a 10 hour shift just to pass out on the sofa, waking up just few hours away from my shift. But I reckon this unhealthy life style will last for maybe few weeks, till the end of the month tops. But faced with that kind of life I am living right now, barely eating one meal a day, combined with the anxiety and paranoia I feel, it makes things even harder. Concentration is gone, motivation withering and the only thing that I have left to fight it is to essentially forget about it. Forget that fear, just leave your mind blank. And that my friends is dangerous. Why? Simply because, if you manage somehow to leave your mind empty, not think about the things that break your mind and pull your soul down, sooner or later you are going to find yourself in a moment of peace, alone, where everything you managed to forget till then, that day comes crushing down on you. All of those bad emotions that you avoided hitting you simultaneously. And that leaves you down, without any hope of pulling yourself up. Fear is not the great motivator. Fear is the absence of hope that keeps us locked in a very dark corner of our mind. All we can do is push through it, in hope tomorrow will be better then yesterday.

The harder the life…

It says something about us writers. We need to be in a place of creativity, in a good feeling or even bad to suck that motivation to put those words down. I bet lot of you like me used those melancholic days as tool to write something that really needed to sound so bleak in the first place. But what happens when motivation is outclassed by other factors. Time, fear, anxiety, imposter syndrome and what not we face that prevents us to even write a single word? Motivation is the key in this line of work. I believe it is not being the best that will make you a great writer. It is purely hunger, wanting to do it, to do more, that divides the greats from the rest of us. Sheer and pure willpower is the key factor that is required to reach the upper level. Sometimes it is hard to keep that hunger. Other factors wave in, trying to persuade you to take it down a notch. And for the few months, especially after my work got too much to handle even for my writing and editing, I can’t stop thinking should I do it? Take a leap of faith, quit that job and pursue the thing I am passionate about? Don’t get me wrong. I have been working since I was 17. Worked quite some shitty jobs for even worse bosses, so I am no stranger to working like 14 hours shifts with no day off for months. But this, writing, is something I know I am good at, or at least that I have the ability to offer something to this community, to the readers,  something of value. I guess after you make so many mistakes in life, on a personal level and business, one really gets to know himself. But then again stands the question we all asks ourselves at some point. Is it worth it? Will my leap of faith be survived? Or shall I just go plummeting down in the ground?

Last few words of wisdom

I leave you with this. You know. Deep down in yourself you do know. Same as depression or anything that wavers heavy on your heart, you can talk to so many people, even professionals, but it’s you who knows the size of your strength to go through it. Same as this. Just, from my experience, nothing is worth doing quickly and over night. Be ready for that. Change won’t come tomorrow, it needs to be in the making for a while. So even if fear bothers you, even if life is uncertain, stop. Breathe. We came this far, right? Night will go down, the sun will rise and we will still be here. And tomorrow is a new opportunity to try again. Won’t say till next week, but hopefully so,

Harry.

The matter of the heart

I am a poet of pain
Behind my word of the dark,
hope lingers,
sits and waits.

Your eye strikes a narrow path,
Mind assuming the worst and the low,
Branding my heart broken,
My mind dismayed.

But behind my dark words,
There is a light, trapped.
I seek only an equal in pain,
A broken piece of my two.

Love to me stands a riddle,
Unknown,
As the biggest lie we seek to grasp.
What I desire is not passion,
What I crave is not the matter of the heart.

I seek merely your compassion,
Your understanding of the damage done.
As inner peace is more valid,
Then any matter of the heart.

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