Category Archives: Love

Something Different….

When it’s on your soul, you just have to write it right? =)

I thought you had to work an actual job, whatever that actually means. To have a respect for what others contribute, this couldn’t be further from the truth. It simply took me taking responsibility for my life, to come to the realization that you might always have people that will help you. But you have to make your own path, you have to put in the work no matter what it is you choose to do in this world.

No happy man with a beard in the sky, is going to make that a reality for you. And you can’t flee to a corner when things get rough, you have to stand your ground and battle. I didn’t understand this until I moved out, I also had no clue what it was all about until I gave my time to others with no thought of what I’d get from it. And lastly, it took my Grandmother to break down into what she is now. For me to truly grasp how imperative it was for me to make my own path.

I am closer to my Grandfather even in death, because I finally got what he was trying to tell me all those years ago. I finally understood what it takes, and while the life I’ve chosen may have not been what he foresaw. I believe with my whole heart, that he could stand and look at me today and pat me on the shoulder. And let me know how much he was proud of the man I am now. I am a writer because of the pain I have suffered, but I am a writer more so because of the words he instilled in me. The nights of fighting over school work never getting done, when for many times I underperformed. He saw this in me way before I could myself.

My Grandfather wrote also, he was quite the penmen in his day. I have gotten the privilege to read several of the things he contributed in story form. I may have a lot of years never understood why we clashed, but I don’t think that’s really important today. He never told us to follow our dreams, but there was always this idea that you could find joy in whatever it is you did in life.

I guess I’m sort of sad that I never knew just how good he was at crafting words. We could have shared that later in life, but he never talked to any of us on that deep of a level. I guess that’s one thing I do regret, that and the fact that I never got to really show him how far I’ve come.Some how though, I wanna believe he knows. I’ve done nothing but fight, he and I have a very similar spirit. I get a sample every now and again, of what he went through later in his life with the Emphysema. He may have been harsh, his methods now would probably seem extreme to most.

But I don’t believe he really held me back, in fact I think he did the total opposite. But he wanted me to do things I wasn’t ever attached to emotionally, I wasn’t going to be what he was professionally. I didn’t have the work ethic he had, and I certainly never grasped the notion that was furthering education.

Maybe it would have appeased him temporarily, maybe if I just would have listened a bit more. We could have gotten a bit closure. I’m not sure, because it always seemed like an impossible task. I know deep down though, he was a good man. And he took care of his family, and that was at the time all I could or should have expected. Now? I truly believe it would have been so much different.

I think expectations are a killer, you can really do a lot of damage to yourself and those you care about. When that’s all you think about, where is this going to lead and how will they make my life better in the long haul. I think its healthy to an extent, because it keeps people’s drive to surpass what they’ve done prior. And that’s important to do, but you can take that past the point of where it no longer helps anyone progress.

I don’t think he knew how to structure that, and I think the disciplinarian in him won rather than the provider or the father figure. A person you could go to when things got difficult. But I guess as I as always stated, our Grandmother was the opposite of him. She loved us no matter what we did, he always had conditions and terms.

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

Follow On Twitter

https://twitter.com/RebelsConscious

Enjoy My Posts? Buy My Book On Amazon!! =)

Thoughts On Anakin Skywalker

Definitely one of my favorite stories, the entire Star Wars Saga in general is really. But Anakin’s journey has impacted me more than a lot of villains. If that’s even what he was, I’m no so sure about that.

I saw a piece of art, of Anakin with his Helmet off like in Return Of The Jedi. And he had this very exhausted look in his eyes, and I just thought back to a Qui Gon Jinn quote that I recall.

“I can only protect you, I cannot fight a war for you”.

And then I got to reading about how much he suffered after being burned on Mustafar, and I kept thinking about how sad it made me. How much he put his own body through, he would only eat through tubes and couldn’t even function normally anymore.

And then I recall Rogue One, when Vader was submerged in the Bacta Tank, and how that was one of his few periods of relief. I just think we never truly consider someone’s agony, and people wonder why I relate to Anikin so much. People wonder why I never saw Kylo Ren as even comparable, possibly in the sense of power maybe, and that’s a really big MAYBE!!!

But just look at the stories, look at the reason behind the war Anakin waged. It was all for love, it was all to sustain that seemingly flawless emotion we call compassion. He wanted so badly to balance his love life, and his aspirations without losing total control. If his reactionary premise teaches us anything, it say’s that there’s no preventative measure for certain death. No matter how powerful you may be, or think you are when it comes for you that’s the end.

Anakin’s war began long before he met Padme though, he was always trying to measure up. Being the best, can be the kill switch of any sort of progressive move. He found a companion in Palpatine, the problem is his aspirations blinded him from the truth. Of what Palpatine really had intended all along. The whole thing makes me respect his character that much more.

He was still fighting for his Children, and his Wife even after post accident. Anikin still existed within, even though these two people were so different “Vader compared to Anikin”. He was a clear case of Dissociative Identity Disorder. Vader was born out of the chaos, but maybe survival in that world wasn’t possible without it? I don’t know, I often think about that.

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

Follow On Twitter

https://twitter.com/RebelsConscious

Purchase My Book

For My Mom

My heart bleeds for that loss, I can’t even feel myself falling. Its weightless, and in closing off my air supply in need of a breakthrough. I could always count on your love, even when we weren’t together I knew it was present. That connection will always exist, even when the world fades away to nothing. You can’t possibly know how hurt I feel, I’m angry inside that you left me so very soon. We never were very understanding of each other’s s misconceptions. You always told me it would be alright, to not worry about things I could not control directly. You’d always be there, and that you’d never be far away. I guess its ok now, I’ll let go only for a period of time. I guess its not forever, I guess I’ll talk to you in hopes that you’re listening. Your energy is ever changing, but there’s one thing I knew for sure. My mother always had my back, and she’d never decide anything unless it had my name on it. Nothing changes, I can’t begin to understand why this happened. But its ok, I don’t need to, I’ll just press on hoping you’re not far behind.

Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger

Follow On Twitter

https://twitter.com/RebelsConscious

Purchase My Book

Imaginated Sunset

1-Before-Sunrise-quotesYou wrote your markings on my head, in which comes from your soulistic tendencies. Scatterbrained, we embark on this journey together forever. Your blissful insurgence, outing in the lights cannot bring out my madness. You purge my soul of the filthy wasteful secretions on my skin. My smoke screen fights to keep things from you, its natural defenses lock up my moods away with a key. You peel away still, your fingers press against the wooden barrier. This is a mask folded inward, you cannot make your way through without a sacrifice. This blood split from your gnawed off curtains, it seeps through the tempered holes. I bellow in your belittled stature, for in the winds of time you come close but its never enough.

Contributor- Chris Ballenger

Paradoxical Invoice

7bd2117af578542d3cb5ac461fdb6526

Shivers insightly, in the moon lit forgery insulated in scrimmages. Fondly insinuating the broken shilvery once found in a whisper and cleanly outdated. These showers pour onto you, you can feel the cold wet backlash in the shoreline. The moister hits the greenery, as it screams to be filled for it is gluttenas. It gags, suffering and frothing at the mouth in a purely isolated and secret that never was told. We’ve all come so far to stop now, we are swines in our own guilty pleasures. We all fell foolish, in a damming place full of unwanted inquires and chain letters. You write these words in someone else’s blood, smeared with the innocence of the ones that basked in holy anguish.

Contributor- Chris Ballenger

Light Footed And Lost

1-St-Vincent-quotes

She floats in the afterbirth of occasion, massively shot outside of the founded mass of wanting a burnt lesion. You watch her from afar, she ignores your advances not because of her indifference. But because there isn’t a fondness, a gifted and dark mantera and forward they move in seclusion. Their light footed and lost, in a universe filled with floods of belligerent fires. They burn as they draw stiletto’s to the ground, painting a monstrosity in elusive defiance. You want to intertwine, you want to interact but something keeps you guessing. She looks the the prizm, shaping the dialect as they see fit. These words have no meaning, they begin to find out what all of this is for. Will you struggle with her, or press against the suppression. Resistance is pointless, you will bleed no matter the resolution.

Contributor- Chris Ballenger

Turnpike Messenger

200_s (5)

A broad and hopeful cubical, found inside the hole of vigorous shame. They walk in a row opposite from one another, running into the shouldered backing. Funny words, become hateful glares in the mid cart. You fight the urge to resist, these workings are obvious in a scounderlistic way. Raising your palm to the light fixture, in wonderment of how it got this bad over time. How did they keep you here all this time, why were you so fond of the punishment. Your eyes were pierced for their recreational hazard, the box broadcasts your dimwitted behavior as if its normalized. You swore you’d never become like this, that it would all be fastened to the floor and securely locked. I do feel the need to tell you, that you brought this bondage on yourself.

Contributor- Chris Ballenger