Jordan Antonacci's Blog, page 46

Broken Arms | Poem

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Crack the glass

watch hours pass

knowing damn well

they’re not coming back

Yet here I stand

in quicksand

watching a broken clock

that has no hands

I reach out

but with broken arms

Wearing scars

like wrist charms

“Unfortunately, the clock is ticking, the hours are going by. The past increases, the future recedes. Possibilities decreasing, regrets mounting.”

-Haruki Murakami

Hey peoples, thanks for stopping by and checking out today’s poem! Hope you liked it; if so, please do leave a like and follow along. Also, feel free to give me a shout on social media

Into the Grey: Poem

Days

they fade away

into the grey

but it feels so much better

Light

it waves goodbye

into the night

but it feels so much better

You

are back at my side

This isn’t life

This here is so much better

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Within my night-like life

you were the light at my side

Some type of lifeline I

could use when I couldn’t hide

Then, some cold black wind

stole the flame from my hand

and when the black crept in

it drowned me like an ocean

I

just don’t feel alive

like I already died

when I first opened my eyes

Feeling like my time is up

Life was a crazy trip, but

I think my ride is done, and

this is where I get off

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Days

they fade away

into the grey

but it feels so much better

Hey, everyone,

Seems like as days go on, my blogging posts become less and less frequent. I hate that–but I’ve been having to choose where I devote my creative energies, and right now a lot of that is going into music.

I hope you enjoyed the poem. The lines are actually lyrics pulled from one of the songs I’m working on. If you liked it, please do leave a like and don’t forget to follow along to keep up with future posts!

Thanks for stopping by and reading. Feel free to leave some feedback in the comments below or even in a personal email. I always respond.

Talk soon,

Jordan Antonacci

Instagram: jordanantonacci

SnapChat: jtantonacci

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Copyright 2018 Jordan Antonacci

Visits from The Ghost of Christmas Past

You don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone.

Boy, oh boy… such a commonly used phrase, hm? No, actually, such an overused phrase. Right? Anyone else think it’s overused? Just me? Eh.

Then again, maybe it’s not overused at all. If you feel like those words and the meaning behind them are repeatedly jumping out at you from behind every corner, then maybe it’s because, like me, you’ve hit a pattern in your life.

What’s my pattern? For me, I feel like I died a few years back and I’m now trapped in this vicious cycle where I’m constantly revisiting scenes from my past as a ghost, reflecting on the moments that were and wishing I could go back to relive them; maybe in a different way. 

Coincidentally enough, this little dilemma of mine seems to echo a classic Christmas tale most of us should remember from our childhood: “A Christmas Carol.”

If you all remember, in the story, the main character, Ebenezer Scrooge, was a miserable old man who spat “Bah! Humbug!” into the face of Christmas itself and everything joyous. One night, while sitting alone in his cold dark apartment, he’s revisited by the ghost of his dead partner, Jacob Marley, who tells Scrooge that 3 ghosts (The Ghost of Christmas past, Present, and Yet to Come) will visit him over the next three nights. After the 3 visits, Scrooge becomes a kinder and more caring man. 

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I wear the chain I forged in life,” replied the Ghost. “I made it link by link, and yard by yard; I girded it on of my own free will, and of my own free will I wore it.”

-Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Jeez… It seems even stranger now that I’ve written it out. Am I the modern-day Ebenezer Scrooge? YOUNGER! The younger modern-day Ebenezer, of course. My mother already tells me I look 30, and that right there is the kind of negativity I don’t need. 

Not today, Mom!

The Ghost of Christmas Past

 Why do I choose to live in the past? (Or try?) Honestly, it’s not something I choose. In a way, like Jacob Marley, I too feel chained to my past, condemned to forever haunt it, unable to continue on to where I need to go. Maybe my present just isn’t a place I want to be, and the sight of my futures isn’t as bright as I’d like for it to be. Maybe I’ve already been visited by my 3 ghosts and have missed my chance to change. 

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So, what should you do if you find that you’re constantly being visited by The Ghost of Christmas Past? Easy. Lock your doors, change your number and ghost that b**ch. Just kidding. You can’t ghost a ghost. Everyone knows that. Duh.

But, what you can do is give The Ghost of Christmas Present and Yet to Come a call. Slide into their DMs and invite them to pay you a visit at your bedside during the late night. I mean, don’t make it sound like that, of course. Be casual. Let them show you what is and what could be. You can revisit the past all you want. You can reflect on all the things you could’ve done different and everything you wish to relive… but the past is just that–it’s passed. No matter how badly you wish, you can’t change anything, and though moments can be recreated, they can never truly be relived. 

The Ghost of Christmas Past has left the chat…

But the present is where you are. It’s what you’re living now and it’s all that is guaranteed. And the future… well the future is what you make of it. Thought not guaranteed, the future is the only thing you can change. Today, you lay bricks to pave the road for tomorrow. 

Hi, everyone! Thanks so much for stopping by MrHushHush Entries and checking out today’s post. Hope you liked it. If so, don’t forget to hit that Follow button at the top of the sidebar!

Talk soon,
Jordan Antonacci
Instagram: jordanantonacci
SnapChat: jtantonacci

Tip Jar

Poem: Does She Know?

I’m a whisper in the wind

a trickle in the sea

Something that could’ve been

a long forgotten dream

I’m a blank name tag

To you, another face

For me, you’re what I’ll never have

Something I’ll never taste

You pass by me everyday

and never even glance my way

In my head, a whirlwind

of all the things I could say

And there’s a pain that I

can’t quite finger

When you leave but the scent of you

still lingers

Maybe I’m not

cute enough

to warrant from you

any type of love

But I see you

A subtle beauty from afar

from all the way down here, it’s like

gazing upon a star

But I’d cut myself open

just to let you see me

then willingly lay broken

coz I know you’d only leave me

The fact is, that mine

is a name

you just might

never say

“Does she know that we bleed the same?

Don’t wanna cry, but I break that way

Did she runaway, did she runaway?

I don’t know…”

SYML, Where’s My Love

Hi everybody

What’s life like in Laguna CA?

I was 18 when I first visited California, and though I don’t exactly remember my reaction to the place, I do know it was one of those rare occasions where reality turned out to be even better than the fantasy in my head.

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I haven’t exactly traveled the world, but I’ve been to quite a few places in the US (and Costa Rica): New York, Maryland, the Carolinas, Florida, Tennessee, Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, California, and plenty of others I’ve passed through while traveling. Out of everywhere I’ve been, California is, without a doubt, my favorite.

There’s just something about Cali–something magical, some kind of sparkling atmosphere that sits over the whole state. Could it be that we’re so close to so many people of fame and fortune? The year round 70 degree weather? The beautiful bike trails chiseled through the hills? The towering palm trees that stretch along the roads? Maybe it’s just the ocean breeze carrying a salty mist of ocean water over your skin.

Or, for me, it’s probably just the fact that I’m finally living close to my family again.

 

 

 

So, where has MrHush been?

As a few of you may know, I dropped my whole life in TX, and moved to TN to embrace a life of minimalism for several months before making the cross country road trip to the west coast. So, obviously I’ve had a lot of restarting to do.

I’ve started some online classes to get certified for more healthcare Admn stuff, and for the meantime I’ve been working full time at Kohl’s. Black Friday was cray. Also, I found juggling vlogging, blogging, fiction, music, and life to be too much for my little hands, so I cut it back to just music. I’m in the middle of my first EP, and a female rapper I met out here (Hearherlicious) has offered to let me use her studio and also help me build a website. I haven’t turned away from the other crafts I know and love, but for now, I’m gonna marrow my focus on music.

We’ll see what happens

My Experience with Addiction

Looking back, what I find especially scary is that I was always one of those kids who pledged to never do any drugs. Ever. I wouldn’t smoke, and certainly not pop pills. As a kid, I watched it destroy and kill my entire mom’s side of the family, and there was no way I was joining them. It’s scary because I had my guard held tight, and still, somehow, manged to let this insidious poison seep into me. Also, because I think all of us make that pledge when we’re young, small, and larger than life–yet today, an addiction epidemic is sweeping across the U.S.

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The “battle” isn’t a battle. It’s a war; one that never truly ends–not in my experience, anyway. Even when you think it does, you can always see the smoke in the distance, just over the walls you’ve built. For me, the war has continued for roughly seven years now. My walls have been broken and rebuilt repeatedly, and the smoke outside them has filled the sky and clouded out the sun.

Like any other story, everybody’s tale of addiction has a beginning, and it has an end. The end isn’t always great, and is often far from it. For me, it began when I was 13, when my friend stole one of his dad’s cigarettes and suggested I smoke it with him. It wasn’t even about the buzz for me. I honestly hated that part. For me, I immediately became obsessed with the sneaking around and the idea of putting something into my body to change the way I feel and act–like I was temporarily changing who I was, and becoming someone else.

By 15, cigarettes had led to weed. Around this time, I’d also discovered alcohol. In high school, I was that shy, weird kid that always kept to himself (still am), and for awhile, I was going to school with a water bottle full of Vodka, sipping it in class so I could get myself to socialize a little more. You know, changing who I was, becoming someone else.

We all knew a Jeffrey Dahmer in school, an outcast, didn’t really fit in anywhere. Dahmer was 14 the first time his drinking in lesson was noted by someone other that fellow students. He smuggled alcohol of all kinds into school in the lining of his army style jacket. On one occasion, a classmate noticed Dahmer drinking a cup of gin in class to which Dahmer casually remarked, “it’s my medicine.”

-Criminal media

And that was me.

Around this time, I got prescribed Xanax for my anxiety. I’m sure a few of you reading are putting your face into your hands at this point, shaking your heads and saying “Oh dear.” Do I even need to say what happens next? No, but I will anyways. Yes, I immediately began abusing the drugs, and thus, the doorway to my pill addiction opened and welcomed me with open arms.

From what I’ve heard, the way most people get into painkillers is after a surgery. Not me though. No, I’m a special kind of fucked up. When I was 16, I saw my father’s Hydrocodone prescription in the medicine cabinet, took it to school with me, and started popping them in my theater class.

This sounds bad, but it doesn’t quite shed light on the mess I was. So many daytime blackouts, waking up in random places… I was in constant trouble with either family, teachers, or law enforcement. I was a wreck, and it wasn’t till I turned 18, moved out, and lost everything that I finally began putting my broken pieces back together. Sorta.

Right now, I’m on one of my little “off” periods. This is where I swear I’m going to stop and never take another pill even if my life depends on it. I hate to think that at some point, it actually will. These phases, they come and go, lasting anywhere between a few days to a few months. So far, this one has lasted a solid month. I want to say it’ll last, but I’ve said those words too many times before. All I can do is take it one day at a time.

Staying “clean” isn’t like what most people think it is. It’s not like you cross some metaphorical finish line and you’re suddenly in the clear. It’s a day by day marathon. It’s exhausting, and from where I’m standing, there’s no finish line in sight.

“Addiction needs a pacifier.”

-3 Doors Down, Loser

Nowadays, I won’t touch a cigarette or take a sip of alcohol. Haven’t for years. I won’t even take a hit of weed, and I’m in California, you know, where it’s legal. It’s funny, because now my dad and brother occasionally smoke and they keep trying to get me to, but I now I won’t. All I have left to pry myself from are these fucking pills. Like I said, it’s been 30 days. Hopefully , that finish line is around the corner. Somewhere.

Coz I’m tired.

Thanks for reading!

Jordan Antonacci

Instagram: jordanantonacci

SnapChat: jtantonacci

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Falling’s Easy

The other day, my father took me on a bike ride through some trails by our neighborhood. He goes bike riding rather often and I don’t at all so I was definitely expecting a challenge.

But, to my surprise, when we started, it was all downhill. As we kept going, the downhill continued, some bits growing uncomfortably steep. I was take back by the fact that there wasn’t much pedaling at all required, and I was especially surprised when we came to a stop and my dad told me we’d reached the end. I was like “Wait, what? I survived? No way.”

He was smiling. He always smiles, but there was something about this smile as he said, “Yeah, you made it. Now we have to go back.”

My soaring confidence immediately screamed MAYDAY and nosedived into the dirt.

We have to go back? Well, obviously—but the thought hadn’t even occurred to me. I stared back at the daunting hills I knew my skinny little legs would crumble on and silently groaned. Couldn’t I just call an Uber or something?

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On the plus side, the view from where we were was amazing. Just beyond the hills and palm trees, the glistening ocean was in sight. My father reminded me that the view was worth it, then began pedaling. I followed.

To make a long, agonizing, and somewhat hilarious story short, my skinny little legs did crumble, and at one point I almost threw up. BUT… I made it.

Several days later (when my legs stopped feeling like jello), I went out for another bike ride—alone—and somehow ended up back at that trail that put me on sanity’s edge. It must be cursed, because, for whatever reason, I started inching down it. Almost against my will. Then stopped. I stared down it, remembering how fun the downhill was and how gorgeous that view would be. Then I looked up, remembering how hard it would be getting back up. Still, I let go and sped to the bottom, knowing the struggle I’d face when going back up.

After taking in the beauty of gravity and the view at the end, I turned around without hesitation, put the bike into the lowest gear, and pedaled.

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It’s easy to let go. It’s easy to fall, and sometimes it’s even fun. It’s simple to let gravity take over and take the weight. Even when what’s at the bottom is a dark trench full of monsters, it’s still so enticing to just… fall.

But you have to be prepared to get back up. It’s a task that won’t be easy. It’s a ride that’ll test you in more ways than you can imagine. You’ll feel like breaking, and as gravity temps you with a tug, you’ll wanna give in, let go and fall—but you have to keep going. For however long it takes. The bottom is no place to stay, and you’ll realize that once you get to the top. The views are great, and though it’s hard to imagine during the climb, you’ll understand once you get to where you’re going. You just have to get there.

“I know it’s hard

but no one said it’s easy

Falling’s easy

but there’s only one way out”

-Eden, Gravity

Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it

Poem: Like a Blank Page

When I awake

it’s blank

like a white page

or a clear canvas

Like an empty sky

a vast ocean

that nothing seems

to wanna float in

I’m not dead

Not quite alive

I just feel like

I’ve already died

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I have a heart

that doesn’t seem to work

It beats to a rhythm

nobody can get in sync with

Emotions

as shallow as a puddle of tears

cried by the robot boy

who doesn’t even feel

And with every mask

a bit of me fades

till I don’t recognized my own reflection

when I put the mast away

Thanks for reading!

-Jordan Antonacci

Instagram: jordanantonacci

SnapChat: jtantonacci

 

Cali Vlog 3|Video

 

Thanks for stopping by and checking out the blog! Hope you liked the video. If so, please feel free to checkout the rest of my YouTube channel. More vlogs and music there

Poem: “I don’t know who I am.”

When I awake

it’s blank

like a white page

or a clear canvas

Like an empty sky

a vast ocean

that nothing seems

to wanna float in

I’m not dead

Not quite alive

I just feel like

I’ve already died

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I have a heart

that doesn’t seem to work

It beats to a rhythm

nobody can get in sync with

Emotions

as shallow as a puddle of tears

cried by the robot boy

who doesn’t even feel

And with every mask

a bit of me fades

till I don’t recognized my own reflection

when I put the mast away

Thanks for reading!

-Jordan Antonacci

Instagram: jordanantonacci

SnapChat: jtantonacci