Wake up: Steps toward consciousness

How do you become conscious?
You may think that you are currently aware of your surroundings, what's going on in your life, and that you have full control of your current situation...
I could be wrong though, you may have absolutely no idea what's going on, and your crying out for help, wondering what life is all about? Maybe your a complete mess!
Whatever your situation; these simple things will help crank up your consciousness levels.

Here you are, sitting at your computer, in your room, maybe your living room or kitchen, reading this blog. Look around you, what kind of drink are you drinking? Are you even drinking anything, does your body need water? What's sitting on your desk?
What does your desk look like?
What is hanging on your walls?
What is the texture of your carpet?
Is everything neat and organized, or a catastrophe?

No...really LOOK at things. Just because you KNOW what's sitting on your desk, or in your closet, or pantry, doesn't mean you really acknowledge its existence.
Seriously pay attention, look past that slight blur of disinterest hazing your vision.
Sharpen those pupils, put on your glasses, check out that cup your drinking out of.

When you leave your house to run errands, pay attention to your steps, to the things around you. Make sure your really breathing.

A good test, go to the grocery store, and go to the produce section. Whenever you see something you've never tasted or smelled, pick it up, analyze it, smell it, feel the texture, the weight, the color. Look at everything around you, really focus on things.

To break out of that routine unconscious haze requires doing things you've never tried before.
I'm not talking about skydiving; it always blows my mind how people think that's breaking out of a box. I'm also not talking about going to a new restaurant for lunch, although that helps.
Maybe there's a little antique or thrift shop you've always wanted to go into, and maybe you finally go in. Try on one of those vintage outfits, or really pay attention to how cool all the old magazines and signs are. Imagine yourself in another time period, and imagine what it would be like.
Maybe go up to the mountains or your local park, get a local plant guide for your area, and learn your surroundings. Actually learn the qualities and names of your local flowers and weeds.

Now this is only a few ideas on how to break out of your boxes, but another very important factor in consciousness, is your inner life.
How often do you pay attention to your pets?
When was the last time you took your kid to the park, or went on a date with your other half?
How clean is your house?
Maybe instead of going to jack-in-the-box for lunch, learn how to make a new dish and cook it the night before work.
How healthy do you think your eating?

These are just a few simple things on how to stay conscious, as you move forward, and become more aware, you will start to interact with your own life more, instead of being a bystander.
What are your ideas about being conscious?

Animal

Let them
Give me dirty looks
Recite to me what they've read in books
Tell me propaganda
I know they can't stand the...
Lack of disease, lack of excuses
Get on your knees
Prey to your god to cure you of your unease
I will do what I please
Let them
Give me dirty looks
Tell me it has to be cooked
And repeat their programming at me
They spat at me their beliefs as though it was the only truth
But the lie is written on their skin
Like the bible they hold so preciously to their chests
They invest so much money
So much time
On their disease sugarcoating it with honey
And little blue pills to cure all of their ills
But caught in stills, photographs and videos
Their plague is that of sickness
And the thickness of their skulls
Does nothing to null their pains
Only damage their brains and smile innocently they laugh at me
Like I'm crazy, the clown that's always been around
For them to point at, and yet there's no problems to point out
Because I am an animal
I paint my skin in animal fat
And dye my hair in our mothers plants
I am an animal
I fuck like an animal and scream like one too
I will howl at the moon and paint myself in mud
Because she who bore me, my fears are only of those who are walking dead
Zombies in the flesh
They are not animals, but humans
They are what they claim to be, separate from me
And separate from mother
They are like no other
Destruction is their only will and all they can do is kill
I've had my fill but their flesh I will not ingest
That virus must be like their fabrication of the words on their papyrus
They are empty and I am full off my kill
I will slowly suck their will
Until their will to breed has left them without seed
And this I need...this sustenance and bloody meat
I will eat with relish
While they cook and burn and char and scorch their processed portion
I eat it raw, with my paws
My cause is happiness
They tell me that bliss is irresponsible, that living in the moment is foolish
Well at least that goulish face reciting their lack of taste in living isn't my friend
I will bend like a tree
And dance like the wind
Careless I will spend my endless time living out my life's rhyme
Shameless I will tear at my food with my hands and teeth and breathe in the smell of a bloody fresh kill
That's my only pill

I miss my city: Seattle poetry on the bus

This is an old poem I wrote, last summer, while riding the bus through my neighborhood.

The city has eyes
It watches our tries, our failures
It commends our success
The moss and vines crawl up to the skies;
Hanging onto freeway walls
And buildings reaching for the hazy sky
Leaves fall from autumn trees
Litter the sidewalks and streets;
With a crunching cacaphony of crackles
Weeds rise up from mowed grass
And sway their yellow dandelion dance
Chipped cement clutters a street
The roads are lined with cracks telling a story like wrinkles on a face
Navy blue, buttermilk yellow, teal and jet black houses line the neighborhood streets
An old VW Van stands like the bones of an animal, as moss and mildew tint the windows green; and rust decays its decrepit scene
Blackberry brambles conquer yards and hide shards of of broken bottles and decaying trash
Pinecones dot a drivway; overhanging with wild branches of evergreens
Paint chips fleck from a picket fence
A lake overgrown with trees and plants; ducks sway in the murkey waters they lay
A man pulls shingles from a church roof
And I sigh at all the beauty, as my bus pulls to a stop