Never in such connection,
Have we all felt so alone,
Eyes fixed locked,
To our forever scrolling phone.
I remember we had friends once,
Of flesh, blood and bone,
Souls of which we connected,
Now mainly through our phone.
A letter had a smell,
A meaning on the page,
The curls of the words whispered,
Now silent, from a bygone age.
I miss the meaning of mattering,
Even if I didn’t matter at all,
I felt I had purpose,
Before this empty social drawl.
My friend he is around the corner,
But feels a million miles away,
He likes my posts sometimes,
How I hope to see him again someday.
We like the world over,
No seas or miles matter,
But we are all so alone,
Despite this social media clatter.
Maybe it is a good thing,
Who really knows?
But what about the negatives,
Do they outweigh the pros?
And yet here I sit,
The irony is not lost,
Searching for my meaning,
When all meaning feels so lost.
Copyright © 2018 Charlie Hasler.
I am now on Instagram, my username is charlie_hasler_author
( I do not really no what I am doing to be fair, some of the pics are too big)
So now it is 2018 and the worst of all of the above is behind me. I am still not an Astronaut, but I feel that the more mental the world around me turns the less mental I feel.
Gone are the days when I felt a great deal of irritation around this whole “mental health awareness” thing, I felt very annoyed when I saw slogans like “its ok not to be ok” no, you mean “society and Instagram have determined through a series of hollow quotes that now it is ok for everyone else to be ok with your mental health problems”. The stigma is still there though, I remember when I used to wrap my hands with plasters in front of the full view of people I work with because I washed my hands so much they cracked and bled. In some cases, that was met with strange looks. I am not surprised, it was mental. But, I felt like saying “this is what my mental health problems are, it’s not all pictures of sunsets or someone doing push ups and being triumphant with a dreadful hollow quote underneath which are mainly always posted on Instagram on a Sunday when everyone is bored or hung over and all of a sudden feels deep” ….or something along those lines. People who don’t understand mental health I think on the whole have limits to their acceptance and accept it when it is not in their line of sight. I may be being unfair but it stirs passion in me. Mental health is very fashionable these days, or the idea of acceptance surrounding it is. If it helps people then fine but I find some of it a bit hollow. I am probably bitter because when I was growing up mental health was a dirty secret and then all of a sudden someone printed an article in vogue or something and everyone now is very much “let’s have a chat about it” ever since. (I have just noticed how I started this paragraph Gone are the days when I felt a great deal of irritation…..in fact no, those days are not gone. It still grinds my gears. Moving on.
I am still not perfect. I have a resigned feeling that I never will be. I am still pretty selfish and impatient. I don’t tell my fiancé I love her enough, nor do I take much interest in what she has to say sometimes when I am tired or too wrapped up in myself. But, I am working on it. I am work in progress to my core, like many others, I will get there, wherever there is?
I need to get fit again, for my mind mainly. I would be lying if I said being fit wasn’t a great feeling. At the moment aesthetically, I feel like a crap version of myself 5 years ago.
Still writing the poetry in the background, second book coming out soon April / May. Looking forward to Spring to get back out in the garden. I am very rock n roll like that and it is the high adrenaline rush I get when gardening that keeps me coming back for more.
That’s it for now.
(Image copyright owned by Elliotexplicits Instagram)
Burn your internal light,
Use its warmth, its guiding light
Burn that flame, flaming bright,
Burn worries soul, her lingering plight
Burn the flame in you whole,
Burn into your unconquerable soul
Burn the moon and the stars,
Burn your worries, your memories scars
Burn the pain and the plight,
Keep that match burning bright
And in the dark of coldest night
Watch your demons cower and flight,
For you have fire in your eyes
Watch your fire burn and rise.
Burn on my friend, burn on.
Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.
I care not for your daily tales,
The sound passes through my worn ears
Like wind through tattered sails,
Like holes in a fishing net
The words pass through,
Escaping the sounds
The dull hums of you.
Drown me over board,
Cast me no line,
I’ll forget your words in the sands,
Of my sinking time.
I empty my lungs and sink into the black crush,
Don’t pull me back to your vomit of words
Your tedious gush.
I care not for your inverted commas acceptable version of events,
No smile will break my cheeks
My dead pan face
Frozen in place,
Lost in sand grain stars
And all their endless space.
Suck me into a black hole,
Void of interest I feel only darkness towards your insipid matters,
You puncture my mind with your worm hole drawl,
As you grind out your mouth soil
At slowest grinding crawl.
I care not for your watered down yarns,
The slow turns of your materialistic wheel
Spun by your constant uninspiring spiel,
Turn the wheel to release the noose drop,
Let the trap door open
Let the teeth clattering stop.
Clattering with rusty tracks screech,
The constant need you have to give unwanted speech,
Your tongue flapping like a runaway train
Whistles in my tunnel ears
My tinnitus brain.
I care not for your holy sermon preached from on high
By the grace of God go forward say I,
Preach your gospel
Your enlightened views
To ones that would, and do so choose.
So as my dead eyes stare back at you,
Lost black ships abandoned in their milky pools,
I remain anchored by your conversation rock
Longing for time to speed its tick,
Copyright © 2017 Charlie Hasler.
Going away tomorrow, feeling confident about it, will be lots of people everywhere and ill be out of routine, but whatever, im going to embrace that fear. It cant kill me. Its site seeing not sword swallowing.
The fact I am going in the first place is a victory. Normally my OCD, Anxiety etc would just make it too stressful.
There will be things that grate on me, the Instagram junkies will no doubt be out in force, who I swear go away for the sole purpose of being able to Instagram the shit out of everything so we all know their exact time, location and frequency. Hate Instagram, I had it once but I got rid of it because I couldn’t handle my friends, who are mainly grown men my own age, posting inspirational quotes all the time. Instagram Gollums “LLLIIIKKKEEEZZZZ MMMEEEEE”
Anyway, I am going off point. As I say I am feeling confident about going away, it will be good to break routine, which is hard to do when at home in base camp.
All the best and I hope you enjoy whatever it is you and yours are doing this weekend.