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.

New dawn of life

For a time I was lost,
For a place I mourn the most,
Where the soul meets my mind,
Where I knew love to find.

For a second I had doubt,
I held my mind, shamed, never proud,
Broken I saw the cracks,
Under my fingers I felt the marks.

Now, I stand alone,
Afraid with the world to atone,
Sins heavy and no time to rest,
I have to put my words to a test.

Redemption never comes too cheap,
Doubt will never stop to creep,
In my world I might be alone,
In my final hour, I might now know,
For every life there is a chance,
For every sinner a new hope to advance.

The Lonesome Road(AMA)- Meet the Wanderer

The Wanderer himself is a representation of one’s lost mind, one whole piece what we all possess. There is a reason why the Wanderer is faceless, practically nameless for a reason. To make a blank looking character, with the problems of many, was my intention in the first place for one specific reason. So each and every one of you who read the story can easily put themselves in his place, as all who struggle with depression, lost identity and the anxious feeling of carrying the burden that crushes our soul, will find it easy to connect with such character.

I walked alone. Through the shadows that the tall buildings cast, like giants watching over the once vivid and song-full city, but now just as a reminder of some past times, they stand tall, relics of an ancient order, such as I am myself. Those buildings and the entire world which surrounded me felt new yet familiar. I couldn’t feel a cold breeze on my skin. No winds moved the hollow now trees, stripped bare of its leaves, as once not so long ago did. The jungle of concrete and metal once felt like an anthill, buzzing of life, souls rushing on, minding only the empty task of the day they had. But now, no sound can be heard but the eternal silence that fills these streets, flowing throughout my veins, which pump that sorrowful blood all the way up to the heart, leaving it feeling bare, alone, stripped, and wasted. I march on, in search of laughter, shout, even a slight remark of a whisper which I grew to miss so dearly. I have been walking for so long; time seems to have stopped, pulling everything in one place, even myself in one way or another. I have been walking for so long, missing things I have held for granted. The simple hello from a stranger, a warm embrace of a loved one, or even just a sight of a curious passerby. One fearful thought keeps on rushing through my brain even though I quickly dismiss her. Thinking of some better times, I find myself faced with the ugly truth…I might be the last one.
No one knows or remembers what happened exactly. Maybe we neglected the home we were given, and our mother finally rebelled against us, punishing us for our misbehaving and sins done over the last long years to her. Or perhaps we were betrayed by our own greed and fear, looking over our shoulder, valuing the life of our fellow man less and less, until we decided to grasp for something that wasn’t ours for the taking and putting the final stroke on our neighbor. No one knows what exactly happened. All that matters now is that the world fell silent so long ago, the song of billions that sang in many different tunes can’t be heard anymore, the night ceiling that connected us seems to swallow the once peaceful place, and the fire that warmed us, not just around, but also in our hearts, seems to be extinguished by none other than ourselves. Who knows what happened, but one thing is certain, we brought this misfortune upon ourselves, a band of mortal man, when did we think of ourselves as gods?” (The Lonesome Road, Chapter 1- The Lone Wanderer)


Ridden of all memory, he starts his journey. Even if he has no recollection of the events that unfolded, leaving this world barren and without human life, he feels the emptiness inside, a reflection of the world that surrounds him. But one thing is for sure, there are eyes on our broken protagonist. One night, seeking shelter, the last man gets a knock on a door. Behind it, stands destiny, a woman he does not recognise, yet like a friend not seen in ages, she feels familiar. But hesitation came up, holding his heart, as the woman’s motives became bit more clear, our hero must decide is she really the benevolent good she claims to be, or is the evil that resides in this world the same as the woman?




“All things that begin must have an ending to them…”
I tried my best to put out some words of comfort.
“It’s simply the law of life, time. But that does not mean we have to live in constant fear and worry about the end, knowing it’s life’s only certainty. It’s destiny.”
I stayed in my sitting position, not breaking the gaze from the fire, but could hear the old bed move under her as she changed position, probably to stand even closer to me.
“What do you mean it’s destiny? Now you’re talking nonsense. How can the fact that being OK with dying and making your peace with it be destiny?”
Her voice changed as well as her position. It didn’t resemble the sweet, soft, mellow voice she usually had, even in fear and under pressure. Now it began to sound edgier, tense as if she was annoyed with my words and the view I had at the world. “It is destiny,” I answered back coldly,
“You see people see destiny as a path that branches up from one to a million, thousand… A force that constantly intervenes, depriving us of our fundamental right to choose. How many times have you wanted to do something, and during or at the end of it, it goes wrong, and you figure out it was destiny that made you fail or end up there where you didn’t want or think you would end up in the first place? People often use it as an excuse for their failures or as an excuse for a weight that keeps them in one place for too long. Talking and saying it must have been destiny that wanted them to fail or stay at the bottom of the barrel for too long. It’s not destiny that keeps them from going forward. It’s themselves. And all of it is nothing more than an excuse for their own miserable failures.” (The Lonesome Road, Chapter 3- The Road Ahead)

Destiny. Are we that afraid of a concept that an invisible hand guides our life, that our choices never mattered? Or do they? What if destiny is like a river, with multiple paths and every decision we make takes us to a different destination? What if our choices mattered and there never was one destiny that was predetermined for one being? As what can we do, but believe in our Path, jump in that river and hope the destination is as comfortable as it gets. This book explores the human nature, our understanding of life, fate, destiny and balance.

The Lonesome Road is out tomorrow, you can get it, the link will be below. If you have any questions for me, please do ask, even if it’s just to say hi. I am excited to bring you this book, I hope everyone finds something for themselves in it.

I’ll answer any questions you may have, looking forward for tomorrow, love to you all!

“The Lonesome Road” is out on the 24th of May 2022. But for those eager to get it a bit earlier you can preorder it from the 5310publishing site :
https://www.5310publishing.com/book/thelonesomeroad

For more information follow and check out 5310 Publishing:

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

Process of Writing: When we lose our mind

And the heart follows… Isn’t that the saying? In the vastness of the world, we are left alone, with one old rule that this Earth never let’s us forget. The world owes us nothing and nothing in return it shall give.



Welcome, this week’s P.O.W., we are continuing the countdown to the Road, with 2 days to go.

In my mind, I was always alone. Misunderstood. Broken. When I looked over, I saw people who had at least part of their life fixed. It worked, you know? And mine? My life was nothing but a series of unfortunate events that I had only my own stupid head to blame. We all make mistakes, right? It’s on our human nature, we fall, we break things, mostly ourselves. But in that path of wrecking our own life and happiness there is one constant. One thing we wish the most. For someone to see, for someone to offer us a hand. To help us out to stand even when we see no way to do so. But our mind breaks and our heart follows as we witness people walking by, leaving us on the curb as some beggars, with our hands extended, begging to be held. And in our fall, tumbling down to the endless darkness we ask ourselves, is there such thing as human kindness?



We all have our Path



In “The Lonesome Road” our protagonist walks the Path, not just the physical representation of his journey but his spiritual transcending of his sins and mistakes in hopes he can mend his broken heart and fix his shattered mind, making amends with his mistakes of the past. He is left alone, in a world he knows little about, even if it is abandoned, it makes little difference as he was always alone, even when it was buzzing. Tempted by two sides, he must stay strong and true to himself, as the pain in his own heart must be firstly understood by himself.

And there is the truth. No matter if we extend our hand, we don’t ask for the help to be guided. No. We ask for understanding. It is us who firstly need to mend the scars that barely hold the mind as it is broken into million pieces. Help comes, in different forms and shapes. But it is our own hand we need to accept first and foremost, to start the process of healing.

We often deny our own strength, feeling like we have none. But the mind that suffered for so long has the strength to pull itself up. As a friend told me recently, we came so far, so whats few more steps?

We are all on a different Path. But we walk it, never alone. Even if it feels like that sometimes. The thoughts we possess and the burden we carry is something we need to acknowledge, accept and face. It is in our power to mend our mind or break it.

They say the burden we possess is not heavier then our capability to carry it. It is true. We doubt our strength, our fire, our capabilities, as it is easy to do so, to fall under the pressure our own head creates, it is so common to crumble under the words of the world which seeks mostly to mock. But why do we forget one crucial fact? We already walked a way of our Path, today we stand here, we had the strength to come this far, so what’s few more steps? No one knows how long the Path is, but take it day by day, one step at the time and who knows, we might just surprise ourselves…



In what do we trust? In who do we believe?



“The feeling of wanting and hoping for the better filled my broken heart, mending it just for a second. It was sorrow that brought me to my knees, but hope was the thing that pulled my tears out. Hope is a funny thing. A light in this endless night, a glimmer that we hold on to so blindly, mostly because, after that heavy load of sorrow, we look for something to help us carry the burden. We blindly turn to her, not asking its price, not thinking about its volatility. But hope can be a treacherous thing. It was for these people. I can feel them. Thousands of them. Holding and reaching their hand towards the wall, in unison crying and begging as if the Wall owes anything to them. To return their loved ones, to guide them wherever they are. I can hear their voices, feel their weeps, them calling. I can feel their burden. My tears as a memento to their suffering, my broken heart for theirs.”

(“The Lonesome Road”, chapter 2, The Weeping Wall)





Hope. It is a treacherous thing. It makes people comfortable, even in their deepest nights of despair, they sit and wait for salvation. Hope we misunderstand, blaming it for our downfall. But it is merely part of the solution, not its entirety. If we sit tight and do nothing, hope as all things, becomes meaningless. Our broken mind, our scared heart, contains so much strength unexplored. Rise, take the power of self belief you thought so strongly it was lost. Rise you broken, as the world is for us all. We deserve happiness, we deserve glory in its full potential. Rise, seize the day!


The truth shall set you free!



We lie. To others, to ourselves. Why? Because the truth is harsh, unforgiving and real. For that reason we choose to run away, towards the sweet embrace of lie. But live in lie for so long, wear faces that are not your own, soon enough you will start believing it. Soon enough you will find your humanity lost, as your head crumbles piece by piece. The past is always there. Sooner we accept our mistakes, sooner we can make new connections, sooner we can give our life back some meaning.

I am enjoying the Countdown to the Road, and now we are 2 days away! With this P.O.W done, it leaves us only tomorrow for content day before the launch. Tomorrow I will be taking questions on all social platforms, here, Instagram and Twitter, so if there are any who wish to ask me anything, please do so or even if you want to come and say hi I would be delighted! Wishing you a great end of the weekend and love to you all!


“The Lonesome Road” is out on the 24th of May 2022. But for those eager to get it a bit earlier you can preorder it from the 5310publishing site :
https://www.5310publishing.com/book/thelonesomeroad

For more information follow and check out 5310 Publishing:

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

Broken mask of my thoughts

For who do I carry my broken mask?
Piece by piece I put it back,
As it crumbles on my twisted mind,
They don’t see my tears I hide,
Why show something that they mock?

Alone, I take it away,
Staring at the face,
That looks back in the broken glass,
I see a stranger crying down.
Laughing through the tears,
I kneel down for my fears,
Begging for the light to find,
For someone to help,
With the burden unconfined.

But I stop the dark creeping in,
I hold my soul deep within,
Deep inside it still exists,
My hope, my love,
The strength to give.

The world turns,
Cares for none,
I will wait,
For a new dawn to come.

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

The masks I worn

I look at the mirror
And what do I see?
A twisted image
Looking down on me.
I wore thousand faces
Which one is mine?
The truth lies somewhere dark
Lost at the edges of time.
Who I am
I do not know
All the masks I worn
Now only shame
My face shows.

Face cracked,
As the mask releases,
The man who’s eyes search
From the other side,
I do not recognise.
Something dark,
Something twisted,
What’s left
I do not know.
For release it whispers,
Fighting for a place in the world.

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