The subjective nature of writing and compliments fuel innumerable thoughts, and concepts which originate in the spongy and yet spikey brain. Obstacles fasten themselves securely to that of the human condition. These Alice in Wonderland MASSIVE size blockages are at times derived from our own seeded thoughts; while others have the potential of risen roots with the sprinkling of words inside the darkest corners of the mind. (Side note: When engaged in a conversation with my friend Luke (Luke Young cowriter for Twisted) I explained my level of chaos and stated that I am completely not a Zen being, that is when he said that is so Zen.  To which he replied that is so Zen. This will shed some context on the forthcoming sentences and my thought process.) The peaceful chaos of Zen with its complexity offers a distinct course of action that freelances itself to embrace these thoughts; from at times to thought corpses that crash on a cold ceramic surface. These impressions are dark and incredibly heavy, they disallow any growth or movement. Constantly sit in a state of damage with the inability to see alternate pathways which transfix on plasticity. Conceptually thought corpses move individuals toward their demise as they crash all around; kindly imagine for a moment if Cinderalla’s beautiful bouncy bubbles were made from the most exquisite balls of Murano glass. Now, instead of popping, they fell and crashed all around her, envision each of those bubbles as thoughts, the elasticity from the bubble pops, shatters, and turns into bones of thoughts on the floor in a pile of dust. That is the impact of depression on a human soul unable to see past the desolate state. At times life is so difficult all that surrounds us is a bumpty blanket of bones amidst the pearl and stitch of Merino wool comfort. Pretty desolate, this pain is sadly required to appreciate the light. To be able to take thought corpses and use that sorrow to manifest upcycled thoughts. As with the example given a few sentences ago with the shattered Murano glass, they have the proclivity to be upcycled; the same concept can be pursued with thoughts. One of the most difficult things I’ve encountered firsthand is humans, who lack hope; and who cannot see past the demise of a specific circumstance. This is where the capacity to upcycle thoughts is activated.

Think of all the concepts and ideas thought of in a day, and the level of negativity that ensues, the pain, which sears human flesh and the courage it takes to understand the blueprint of life is not completely written. How each human as the architect of their own life has the choice and cognition to have its own non-Kafka ugly metamorphosis; but a beautiful one where they understand thoughts like glass can be upcycled and reused for a meaningful purpose or lesson.