The special ability in youth

When my mind races
At what feels like 1000 times
Faster than it should
Time seems to slow down
And it's hard to concentrate

It used to happen all the time when
I was young
Like a special gift
I was given and had no
Control over

But I know that things like that
Have left me since getting older
Like being able to
See many colored dots before I fell asleep

Or knowing that wasted time was
Mostly time for self exploration
Like the electric swirls I learned to control
Or the anxious dread I can
Force my body into on command

And it all shaped me into
A very tightly controlled
Defensive machine
Where all my attributes became defense mechanisms
And my tastes became closely guarded secrets

Putting others around me into the
Position of being threats to my
No longer special traits
And instead imprisoned
My mind in paranoia

Of a nuclear submarine out to sea for months
Pinging the ocean
And mistaking schools of fish
For foes

Not a part of the sea but a
Drowning island within it
Like Atlantis
Or the colossus at Rhodes

And since my mind continues to
Lose touch with the freedom I
Once had no control over in youth
I've become trapped
In a system of my own invention

Unable to love freely
Unable to think earnestly

Just a torpedo barreling
Toward a blind but plotted
End

The thunderstorm and the clock and a Beach House song

Time to me
is like a sad melody
putting us in a place we could not reach otherwise
a fleeting imprint of emotion
that will
end

The song is precious
like a gold dust in its impermanent perfection
raising the spirit like a natural act

Yesterday i watched the splendor
of God in a thunderstorm cloud
in the darkness
lightning flash after another
incredible pure energy
caused by the most natural process
on our earth

Just warm air rising

I watched the time on my watch
rotate and felt stagnant
and immutable

Unable to fathom another day like this
a day where I did nothing
and was no better for it at the end
than when I first awoke
a natural process
a rhythm that a needle drags accross
until my melody is over

and I want so bad
for it to be something great
and not a metronome

To see the seemingly chaotic
blasts of light
in my own life
from nothing but warm air
exhaling in
and out

like the inaudible tick
of my watch
rounding out another day

One that begins in pain
and ends in addiction
my addiction to avoidance
to stagnance
to giving up

An hour later the lightning had ceased
but i still looked east
to see if it might
strike once more
for me

A supernatural nod
from nature
to me
letting me know it was ok

But the storm had passed
and I know some day soon
I will too

It seems the only things which are eternal
is the rounding of a clock
and my unexplored
potential

Tuning forks and empty wine glasses

Saying things to say them
is like getting drunk
to throw up
It's all vomit and mess
and the result of going to far
away from yourself

Hiding in excess is despicable
its meaningless
like wandering in a circle
hoping to find a new path

We live in an age full of intelligence
smart beyond our ancestors
arbiters of millenniums
of compounded knowledge
so self aware
so far reaching in our mental scope

So worthy of praise
so enlightened

So void of wisdom
because wisdom cannot be learned
through a browser window
or a professor's word
or pastor's for that matter

Wisdom comes from life
life we seem intent on not living anymroe
because a selfish pursuit
is an empty one
and a crowd of cheering people
is like a row of
empty wine glasses
humming their resonant frequencies
when touched

And is that all we are?
tuning forks
to whatever randomness abounds

A sad arrangement
of instruments without a will
who don't even know
how rigid their lives
will be