Thursday, 21 November 2019

out of self and into authenticity

When faced with our personal demons, from trauma to social anxiety to depression, insecurity, prejudice and fear, can we escape the diverse traps of escapism in a technology driven world? can we recognize when we are hiding in niche markets and pockets that insulate us from harm, the circles and titles and roles and degrees that fit our personas so comfortably well? how do we move from our comfortably numb microcosms and social media spaces into something more vulnerable and maybe terrifying? let us arm ourselves with mindfulness. let us push toward self-awareness and awareness of those around us. let us appreciate differences of opinions and perceptions, which are forged from differences of experiences. let us be curious rather than defensive. following the paths of those before us, whom we hope to emulate, whose stories provide outcome studies we can see and touch! that to be vulnerable...to step out of our comfort zones...to let ourselves go into process and come out from behind our narratives, into space where we can feel and change and grow... may we drop our guards, our personas, our designated roles for a sec...let us stand a chance at a greater authenticity. a greater connection with something bigger than ourselves, and a stronger relationship not only with our community but our society, our humanity. The outcome may prove irresistable! A greater personal sense of autonomy and spiritual freedom in an increasingly material world.

Wednesday, 20 November 2019

depending on you

the wind picked up this morning and blasted all the spaces, rolling recyclables down and into the street, carrying yesterday's troubles away. i am awake and listening. community is some dream at dawn. i cook my own meals in my own apartment. i have my high speed internet and a chance to reconnect. living well can make you soft and vulnerable but not necessarily weak. that depends on you.

Tuesday, 19 November 2019

overshared

last night i had a friend over for dinner. i broiled wild sockeye salmon with brussel sprouts and potatoes and stuffing and she liked it. we talked about our lives. i got a little caught up in the story of my past and overshared. that's how i describe the feeling you get when you wanna suddenly curl up into a ball and retreat. you know you have a real friend when you can feel like running away but you decide to stick around and it only brings you closer.

Monday, 18 November 2019

11.18.19

i dusted off my guitar yesterday and pumped air into my bicycle and rode the river for a while. today i might meet some old chords and new friends and find my way back to source. god willing. a little bit of time off can go a long way but i'm telling you...every day for me has gotta be a day of creative effort or it's worthless. and that's what i most love about life. i will be working on my novella, too, it's close to how i want it to shine.

the self sets the limits

the spirit and soul is shining underneath, waiting to break out of the rock that conceals it, out of darkness for us to see and believe. meanwhile the world goes on waiting for you to arise. will you ever? the tarnished lack in a rusty controlled mechanical sort of perfection with an intellectual hook demands a miraculous effort. most are pulled out of the path of life and retired, subservient to other forces, equally bad as good, fenced in by unnatural designs. oh! the self-set limits of life experience. the adventure lies in potential and may very well be worth living and dying for!

hk. we love you

collective awareness is forever half-whole and the internet
a consciousness blender has brought unevolved practices
to the surface, unsavory brutal old things hiding inside the
waistcoat of mature regimes sweating the heart of the people to a punishing
high blood pressure and panic in the
streets. hk. never give in. never
give up. we love you.

unlikely

these silent ones they may be chosen
 they patronize the same magazine
stand or cafe rocking back and forth on heels
 reading headlines

it would not take an act of war
to draw their thoughts in from concerns
 of business or home

they may hold your hand a moment longer than others
to let you know they understand
what you are going through

sometimes that's all it takes
to realize you are not alone and
someone gives a damn

Sunday, 17 November 2019

trance joints

no right no
wrong simply colorful everything simply
all night long

 a club dj rolling tight
trance joints 4 the crowd
2 feel

no. the future's not cold
computer. still

clouds pressured by
fronts

      to tears and
 driven

here a rainbow gone

remember those who silently made their way through city streets
adorned with semi-delusional ideas. visual blended them in with countless colors the 
nuance the canvas of urban elements 

what if what
they saw then
and 

got medicated for
got laughed at
discredited by
disenfranchised from
marginalized for

years later
exists?

i stayed away

all the way back to ancient history, i mean my personal teenage daydream, i stayed away from the opportunities the crosswalks the celebrations the teachers the smiling faces. i could see them but i could not approach them. they were there waiting for me all those years but i harbored social anxiety and a strong feeling i did not deserve anything good in my life. so it was personal justice i exacted on myself, the better part of my twenties. then i hit the thirties and got a taste of freedom from my vices and moved to california. then the question of owning my identity arose. this would require courage and resolve. i could not conjure it up. i needed a plan and i got online and got with community and developed one.


i put together a career move that fit my strengths and values. i was working so hard full-time school and job with a serious commute two hours each way. i still hadn't put it all together, i mean, anxiety and depression and dysphoria were my lot. i had a few friends but mostly isolative. the pressures grew and i got heavy inside my head and i slipped up. you feel like all is lost. it can turn you against yourself. i was lucky to survive. i made it. i finally got it together. prayer and meditation. running and writing and self-publishing. finding my queer community. social work and therapy. giving and receiving. family. friends. owning all the narratives of my identity. reaching out to help others. dialing into my life again feels so great. i thank god.

Thursday, 14 November 2019

tangential

the mailbox was physical i found all my documents i looked them over and shredded them and i wished i could shred the virtual docs too from my inbox. you cannot locate me in my inbox, but rather in my outbox, we communicate this way and it's less fun but more convenient than face to face. it's less exciting, it's isolating us from each other like our phones. like our tablets. like our laptops and our desktops and pretty soon we won't be talking anymore, will we be friends? will we ever love like that again?

i was a vape

you were vaping peanut butter cups and blowing smoke into the space above our heads, while i argued for books over any other form of entertainment. nothing beats a paperback with its scent of undiscovered ideas. do they make a juice for that? you found newspaper print vape on google and we laughed all the way to the store.

Wednesday, 13 November 2019

journal 4 nov

some days were all traffic
no let up

it was hard to even
get up

so many screens
so little time and who would believe
a moment of silence...

could feel
like
  a crime

stunning

you were stunning
they were gunning
to meet you

if only they knew
what they were walking
into

wanting to believe

if i could help you i would. maybe i can by being grown up and not so easily hurt. i guess we all struggle with wanting to believe we are loved.

impossible math

in the city you may find her
weeknights back of the lot
expanse of sky just above a fenced
square of earth to breathe
eyes full of sunset and
impossible math ruled out in
her forehead

tired of moving
cannot afford to stay
how can she tell
the kid

soft fall



the grapefruit ice you drink upon the delta breeze

with summer lost its spark

calm down. you need not rush

the leaves to turn and

softly fall upon the crossing

walk

time to sit and talk

all the cell phones gone and what a world

would be. what a world once

was and how we got along you

fingered my blouse i cried to think so

soon you would be

gone

outwitting the grammar police on the outskirts of dot dash city

Lynn P. Penner
I'm the typo queen. Sometimes I look back on messages and wonder how I survive the writing world lol

Did you get your work done? Was it worth working your ass off to miss a pretty day? lol Have a good day tomorrow. 🙂
Lynn P. • Tue, 6:06 PM
the typo queen enlists apostrophe charles to fight the evil dyslexics riding around town in their supercharged semi-colons on the edge of dot dash city

Thursday, 7 November 2019

force

i had a nightmare and woke up and drank some water and when i fell back asleep it turned into a dream. you can try but you cannot force things, you may even suffer if you do. you cannot push yourself into a personality. it's okay to learn new things about yourself. it's okay to wanna change. if you feel unsatisfied or unhappy, you gotta find what it is you are fighting and stop. best to accept it. allow things to be the way they are. and just work on it every day a little.
katya selfie 2019



heartbreaker

you told me of your fears and how you might not make it. i was so looking forward to your visit. seeing you for the first time in 15 years. my blood. my cousin. the only one i've got, i mean, the only one i talk to. i saw us roaming up to tahoe and down to san francisco maybe over to the ocean. what a heartbreaker. okay. the most important thing is your health. these day's it's god's will, anyway, not mine.
author at home

Tuesday, 5 November 2019

journal 1 november

the song of summer has ended
and we nest inside our city
apartments

these cool dawns thaw out ina flash
with the sunrise and i cut most
my hair off and layer

i can smile waking up again i
can find myself again
in the winter i

can see my breath