I keep typing out these words
attempting to explain what they meet
forgetting the point is moot
because you already know.
You've seen the story of my heart
and the ways of my life,
seen these stones rolled away
and seen hearts bleed out love in their ways.
There could never be enough words,
never be enough ways
and never enough time
to just give you everything
that you deserve.
Give you all the words
to explain your finite beauty
which burns from the infinite gift
you have been given
which I can see,
just with one look in your eyes.
Thankfully time isn't just this one way line,
a symmetrical system we can grasp.
If eternity is infinity
then we can be complete, be one
even if that doesn't mean the present time.
Or tomorrow.
But it does mean now and forever.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Just in Hope
If it happens to snow tonight,
just like the news man says
I can always hope it falls heavy and new.
Fall upon this dark heart
with its light dusting
falling from the heavens above.
Falling to make things new.
One can always hope when it melts,
when the temperature of my heart
heats it beyond its points of life
that the water it makes will melt
and fill in the crevices within.
just like the news man says
I can always hope it falls heavy and new.
Fall upon this dark heart
with its light dusting
falling from the heavens above.
Falling to make things new.
One can always hope when it melts,
when the temperature of my heart
heats it beyond its points of life
that the water it makes will melt
and fill in the crevices within.
Friday, February 27, 2009
It Only Comes Out At Night
My soul doesn't sleep at night.
All the darkness does is serve to remind
how alone and afraid the night can be.
A reminder of how my soul,
how it can only have this one real connection
and that anything else is just finite.
There is the absence of light
this fear of all the burning it brings
and the pain it reveals.
All of the ugly scars and the truth
that can no longer hide from me.
All reveled in an instant to the world
all the secrets worked so hard to conceal.
The night hides everything I never wanted
and is given to me in dreams.
Dreams of Hell fire and
of deepest wasters of darkness.
Reminders of the finite little boy here,
that he cannot survive nature
much less his own fears.
It's this night that acts as a cancer
eating at my soul.
Showing every little fault line
and every moment that has cut my heart,
pressing deep on the wounds
making me unable to breath.
It is this night that dares to taunt me
and dares to remind me of my loss.
How this chasm has grown deeper by day
and wider by night.
To live is to hurt.
Memories are bitter sweet
but sometimes so bitter
that I do not know if I was better with them
or without them at the time,
much less now
when all the final nail needs
is just a simple breeze.
Love is not finite.
It has no compromises.
Just that which is imposed on it
to please those it needs.
So that it is not forever alone.
Love mends, builds and restores.
Just as easy as it kills on a whim.
Passionate insanity,
a delusion based in the soul
and carried out by a diseased mind and body.
But it is this coming night I fear.
The night when I awake to find the day has fled
and all is now hidden by night eternal.
That you are nowhere to be found
and I weep alone,
held in place by the nights cover.
Keeping me sanitized
from the offensive perturbation
and protrusion
of love into this night
hiding my soul so sweetly
and with the utmost kindness
found only in the night's dark charity.
All the darkness does is serve to remind
how alone and afraid the night can be.
A reminder of how my soul,
how it can only have this one real connection
and that anything else is just finite.
There is the absence of light
this fear of all the burning it brings
and the pain it reveals.
All of the ugly scars and the truth
that can no longer hide from me.
All reveled in an instant to the world
all the secrets worked so hard to conceal.
The night hides everything I never wanted
and is given to me in dreams.
Dreams of Hell fire and
of deepest wasters of darkness.
Reminders of the finite little boy here,
that he cannot survive nature
much less his own fears.
It's this night that acts as a cancer
eating at my soul.
Showing every little fault line
and every moment that has cut my heart,
pressing deep on the wounds
making me unable to breath.
It is this night that dares to taunt me
and dares to remind me of my loss.
How this chasm has grown deeper by day
and wider by night.
To live is to hurt.
Memories are bitter sweet
but sometimes so bitter
that I do not know if I was better with them
or without them at the time,
much less now
when all the final nail needs
is just a simple breeze.
Love is not finite.
It has no compromises.
Just that which is imposed on it
to please those it needs.
So that it is not forever alone.
Love mends, builds and restores.
Just as easy as it kills on a whim.
Passionate insanity,
a delusion based in the soul
and carried out by a diseased mind and body.
But it is this coming night I fear.
The night when I awake to find the day has fled
and all is now hidden by night eternal.
That you are nowhere to be found
and I weep alone,
held in place by the nights cover.
Keeping me sanitized
from the offensive perturbation
and protrusion
of love into this night
hiding my soul so sweetly
and with the utmost kindness
found only in the night's dark charity.
Lovely Talk Tonight
I'm sitting here wishing
I had some good news to give.
I'm sitting here and hearing
just every word in every phrase
of everything I never wanted you to say,
to feel the quiver of your lips
moving in slow ways
with resounding doubt.
But better this time than last.
I wanted to say it's alright
or that I'm sorry.
Sorry for crimes I haven't committed yet,
just some words to get your mind
moving elsewhere,
to give them form here.
On an adventure to see,
just so you see how beautiful you are.
It feels too trite to say,
too disarrayed to know
too broken to feel
too many ways
to not know how to say
just how little love
just how much pain
just how insufficient
I am,
and how the future should be more.
So much brighter than what I can offer to say,
offer to do for it.
Out of sync rhymes hoping to make sense
over the snaps and cracks
of a world falling out of place
and it landing in your backyard.
Given the choice none of us would have asked for it
but we get the gifts
of universal fear, doubt and understanding
and grace just
and only just as we need it.
I want to be the one who doesn't care
about the thoughts of others
but it means neglecting
even betraying a part of me
that I just cannot let go of.
It's like I cannot help but look at this mirror
and see what is behind me.
The background is my foreground
as much as I'm your foe.
This odd and needed reversal.
I can't help but want to see some real transformation
to see this fake part of town on fire
seeing everything burned down
and made new.
Renewed with the pain of burning
and being made beautiful again.
To see the location
of your soul
be found again.
Smiles of sunlight
on these blades of grass.
They need you so they won't wither.
Without you there is no life,
no life for the place you are given.
It's not like we're living for today
anymore then it was yesterday
or the year before.
It's not like we're running out of time
just the minutes of every day.
It's not like it's new
we've been through this every day of our life,
every moment before we knew of the other
as if somehow,
we always had this intristic connection
that was made before time began.
That love which shaped creation with words
making us to be who we are before we knew.
Before we knew the potential of life
or the Hell is becomes.
Before we could scarcely hope to believe in hope
or that we can find each other.
The need to know we are both here and there
even when there is nothing in between.
That the longing felt can be made whole,
that the two halves torn apart will be restored.
That there is love to be had,
hope to be found,
love to restore
and hope to heal.
That these thoughts,
these wild whispers of untamed hope
might find life in your breath.
That they may be brought back to life
and set the fire in your heart
so you aren't afraid to ask,
ask the hard questions when all you want is
all that you are never seeing.
There are never words enough to offer,
prayers cried
or screamed into heaven.
There will never be enough verbal expression
or words being written
that can give justice to emotion
and its merest of consequences.
We can talk about sleep
but what about when it never comes?
Like the pause before dawn
except this is looking into an abyss
of self established failure.
But it is more,
more than you
and thankfully more than me.
It's behind you
and inside you.
Waiting to catch flame
and burn ever bright.
Love on its way down to the top.
I had some good news to give.
I'm sitting here and hearing
just every word in every phrase
of everything I never wanted you to say,
to feel the quiver of your lips
moving in slow ways
with resounding doubt.
But better this time than last.
I wanted to say it's alright
or that I'm sorry.
Sorry for crimes I haven't committed yet,
just some words to get your mind
moving elsewhere,
to give them form here.
On an adventure to see,
just so you see how beautiful you are.
It feels too trite to say,
too disarrayed to know
too broken to feel
too many ways
to not know how to say
just how little love
just how much pain
just how insufficient
I am,
and how the future should be more.
So much brighter than what I can offer to say,
offer to do for it.
Out of sync rhymes hoping to make sense
over the snaps and cracks
of a world falling out of place
and it landing in your backyard.
Given the choice none of us would have asked for it
but we get the gifts
of universal fear, doubt and understanding
and grace just
and only just as we need it.
I want to be the one who doesn't care
about the thoughts of others
but it means neglecting
even betraying a part of me
that I just cannot let go of.
It's like I cannot help but look at this mirror
and see what is behind me.
The background is my foreground
as much as I'm your foe.
This odd and needed reversal.
I can't help but want to see some real transformation
to see this fake part of town on fire
seeing everything burned down
and made new.
Renewed with the pain of burning
and being made beautiful again.
To see the location
of your soul
be found again.
Smiles of sunlight
on these blades of grass.
They need you so they won't wither.
Without you there is no life,
no life for the place you are given.
It's not like we're living for today
anymore then it was yesterday
or the year before.
It's not like we're running out of time
just the minutes of every day.
It's not like it's new
we've been through this every day of our life,
every moment before we knew of the other
as if somehow,
we always had this intristic connection
that was made before time began.
That love which shaped creation with words
making us to be who we are before we knew.
Before we knew the potential of life
or the Hell is becomes.
Before we could scarcely hope to believe in hope
or that we can find each other.
The need to know we are both here and there
even when there is nothing in between.
That the longing felt can be made whole,
that the two halves torn apart will be restored.
That there is love to be had,
hope to be found,
love to restore
and hope to heal.
That these thoughts,
these wild whispers of untamed hope
might find life in your breath.
That they may be brought back to life
and set the fire in your heart
so you aren't afraid to ask,
ask the hard questions when all you want is
all that you are never seeing.
There are never words enough to offer,
prayers cried
or screamed into heaven.
There will never be enough verbal expression
or words being written
that can give justice to emotion
and its merest of consequences.
We can talk about sleep
but what about when it never comes?
Like the pause before dawn
except this is looking into an abyss
of self established failure.
But it is more,
more than you
and thankfully more than me.
It's behind you
and inside you.
Waiting to catch flame
and burn ever bright.
Love on its way down to the top.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Breathing
I'm not sure what I was thinking or what I am thinking now.
Things are so hazy and unsure...different paths...potential...with so much that can go wrong...so many hurt feelings...so much taken the wrong way...I'm afraid to speak much less stand up and make a decision.
I'm afraid if things keep going this way I'm going to just explode and do something rather rash.
But it is nice to say hello...even though digital portals don't convey enough feeling, enough emotion and soul...it is nice to say hello even when things don't exactly make sense and organic matter is failing to do its job.
It's funny...every time I start to feel like I'm going crazy or that the pain is in my head, I just sort of double over and sometimes try not to scream.
I mean, certainly that sounds over dramatic, I haven't screamed...more just low moans of pain amongst wondering why it feels God won't do anything...but it's a matter of perspective. Thankfully this isn't worse, I'm not on fire, right?
The nice comfort I can solace in right now is just moving forward.
In a sane pattern and into a world less known but better than the one I inhabit.
I'm choking on the noxious fumes from this toxicity...that I live in and around...memories that cannot and will not die...reminders of my own shortcomings and forthcoming demise...a cavernous sarcophagus painted in white and pale blue, filled to the brim with books and papers not doing a thing.
Part of the problem is me, no doubt.
But the problem is also outside as well as inside.
I'm not even negative or narcissistic enough to think I can be this bad...but I'm ready to leave it, the pain.
I just am not sure on how to stand up or on walking.
Crawling isn't the worst option at least...
Things are so hazy and unsure...different paths...potential...with so much that can go wrong...so many hurt feelings...so much taken the wrong way...I'm afraid to speak much less stand up and make a decision.
I'm afraid if things keep going this way I'm going to just explode and do something rather rash.
But it is nice to say hello...even though digital portals don't convey enough feeling, enough emotion and soul...it is nice to say hello even when things don't exactly make sense and organic matter is failing to do its job.
It's funny...every time I start to feel like I'm going crazy or that the pain is in my head, I just sort of double over and sometimes try not to scream.
I mean, certainly that sounds over dramatic, I haven't screamed...more just low moans of pain amongst wondering why it feels God won't do anything...but it's a matter of perspective. Thankfully this isn't worse, I'm not on fire, right?
The nice comfort I can solace in right now is just moving forward.
In a sane pattern and into a world less known but better than the one I inhabit.
I'm choking on the noxious fumes from this toxicity...that I live in and around...memories that cannot and will not die...reminders of my own shortcomings and forthcoming demise...a cavernous sarcophagus painted in white and pale blue, filled to the brim with books and papers not doing a thing.
Part of the problem is me, no doubt.
But the problem is also outside as well as inside.
I'm not even negative or narcissistic enough to think I can be this bad...but I'm ready to leave it, the pain.
I just am not sure on how to stand up or on walking.
Crawling isn't the worst option at least...
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Gargh...
Well that was a depressing punch in the face.
Now what God?
Yes.
Sure.
Okay.
But you should know waiting does indeed suck.
No offense intended.
Now what God?
Yes.
Sure.
Okay.
But you should know waiting does indeed suck.
No offense intended.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
I Hate Money...
...or really the lack of it to be honest.
Goodbye World of Warcraft for the foreseeable future.
Hello writing, self loathing, job hunting and grad school applications!
Goodbye World of Warcraft for the foreseeable future.
Hello writing, self loathing, job hunting and grad school applications!
Defining Guilt
"Let wickedness escape as it may at the bar, it never fails of doing justice upon itself; for every guilty person is his own hangman."
-Seneca
Before being able to tackle such a large and wide range of questions we first have to figure out just what we are talking about. Guilt, like the words grace, hope, charity, love, mercy and etc. are words that are Christian in nature (but quite obviously reaching much further back in history than the past two centuries) but have lost much of their real meaning because of overuse and over saturation in conversation.
People feel guilty for smoking, for eating chocolate, for driving SUV's, for eating red meat, for liking 90's pop music and the list goes on.
Conversely speaking, people openly do not feel guilt over raping, over killing others, over abortions, for lying and causing innocent people to go to jail, for torturing and abuse directed towards animals and so on.
There is a deliberate contrast to that list.
The first list contains things people do to themselves which can be bad but are not necessarily 'evil'. Whereas the second list is composed of things which can be (and in my opinion) are things which people should either feel guilt over or at least require a second thought, a looking into the soul over before, during and after.
The question that is being posed is "Why?"
Why bother stopping to think of my actions?
What makes an action 'good' or 'bad' or a reason someone should feel this horrible and crushing dread sensation?
Let's find a working definition of the word.
Dictionary.com says that :
guilt
/gɪlt/[gilt]
–noun
1. the fact or state of having committed an offense, crime, violation, or wrong, esp. against moral or penal law; culpability: He admitted his guilt.
2. a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offense, crime, wrong, etc., whether real or imagined.
3. conduct involving the commission of such crimes, wrongs, etc.: to live a life of guilt.
Guilt is a noun, it is a thing, a state of mind and possibly a state of being as well.
I. The first offered definition of guilt is a state of unquestionable being. An action that violate an either spoken or unspoken law or moral code and the offender is seen as being unquestionably guilty. In other words there somehow and in someway exists this intrinsic part of our being that shouts out when something happens that violates this code.
If a child is about to eat an apple an a bigger child walks up, punches the kid in the face and steals the apple; the first kid KNOWS something has been violated somewhere. He hurts, he is in pain and no longer has his apple. Whether the second child realizes it or not he has broken two very wide held laws that are against thievery and abuse against another human.
This definition does NOT require a person to know of their guilt. All that is requires is that stand accused of this crime in others minds and that a standard has been broken.
II. The second definition is about this abstract, mental anguish of the mind and soul where a person FEELS that they have violated that unspoken moral code. This guilt is the consequence of a person realizing or feeling that they have broken a law or rule and because of either their pain or the pain they have caused there is this interruption.
An example would be if someone was speeding along on the road, flying down it in a sports car pushing a hundred miles per hour and then they run over tire spikes. Needless to say the car looses it's four tires and comes to a literal crashing stop. In a way, when a human realizes they have done something and feels remorse, that same screeching halt occurs. For some it is a light tap on the breaks and for others it is a spectacular explosive car crash worthy of Hollywood cinema.
It varies by person, personal belief and the empathy that one posses towards others.
III. The third and final definition is that of a lifestyle of guilt. To knowingly cause harm and then continue on with life. Sociopaths, professional criminals and the super spiritual are sure to apply for this.
This goes beyond simply feeling and knowing remorse, it requires willful breaking of this law and continually doing so.
The interesting wording of this definition is not that a person accidentally or somehow is ignorant of the law, the person realizes they are violating an ethic standard but at the same time they continue. This pushes well beyond simple understanding and requires a deep delving into the mind, the psyche, the soul, the base reasoning and understanding of that person to even begin to the attempt to grasp at understanding of their behavior.
There are no easy examples of this because each person, each case is a unique example of this state. Seemingly few people willfully subject themselves to abuse but it almost feels as if this understanding of guilt is rampant among those who believe. The guilty are only suppose to run when they think they are being pursued but with the epic marathon being ran one would think most of the population are personally guilty for a genocide worth of sin.
Why do some people feel unable to breath after making a small lie whereas others can easily kill a dozen people based upon their racial heritage and then sleep at night?
There are quite obviously no easy answers in range of grasp.
The very Christian (and a personal belief) of a literal human fall from grace, of us willfully walking from love, peace and grace; and then leaping into the lordship of self servitude is a rather unhappy thought but with enough sincerity one can begin to see the truth of this.
I cannot speak for others really but only make broad assumptions based upon my personal experince. Either everyone else in the world is somewhat like me or drastically different.
-Seneca
Before being able to tackle such a large and wide range of questions we first have to figure out just what we are talking about. Guilt, like the words grace, hope, charity, love, mercy and etc. are words that are Christian in nature (but quite obviously reaching much further back in history than the past two centuries) but have lost much of their real meaning because of overuse and over saturation in conversation.
People feel guilty for smoking, for eating chocolate, for driving SUV's, for eating red meat, for liking 90's pop music and the list goes on.
Conversely speaking, people openly do not feel guilt over raping, over killing others, over abortions, for lying and causing innocent people to go to jail, for torturing and abuse directed towards animals and so on.
There is a deliberate contrast to that list.
The first list contains things people do to themselves which can be bad but are not necessarily 'evil'. Whereas the second list is composed of things which can be (and in my opinion) are things which people should either feel guilt over or at least require a second thought, a looking into the soul over before, during and after.
The question that is being posed is "Why?"
Why bother stopping to think of my actions?
What makes an action 'good' or 'bad' or a reason someone should feel this horrible and crushing dread sensation?
Let's find a working definition of the word.
Dictionary.com says that :
guilt
/gɪlt/[gilt]
–noun
1. the fact or state of having committed an offense, crime, violation, or wrong, esp. against moral or penal law; culpability: He admitted his guilt.
2. a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some offense, crime, wrong, etc., whether real or imagined.
3. conduct involving the commission of such crimes, wrongs, etc.: to live a life of guilt.
Guilt is a noun, it is a thing, a state of mind and possibly a state of being as well.
I. The first offered definition of guilt is a state of unquestionable being. An action that violate an either spoken or unspoken law or moral code and the offender is seen as being unquestionably guilty. In other words there somehow and in someway exists this intrinsic part of our being that shouts out when something happens that violates this code.
If a child is about to eat an apple an a bigger child walks up, punches the kid in the face and steals the apple; the first kid KNOWS something has been violated somewhere. He hurts, he is in pain and no longer has his apple. Whether the second child realizes it or not he has broken two very wide held laws that are against thievery and abuse against another human.
This definition does NOT require a person to know of their guilt. All that is requires is that stand accused of this crime in others minds and that a standard has been broken.
II. The second definition is about this abstract, mental anguish of the mind and soul where a person FEELS that they have violated that unspoken moral code. This guilt is the consequence of a person realizing or feeling that they have broken a law or rule and because of either their pain or the pain they have caused there is this interruption.
An example would be if someone was speeding along on the road, flying down it in a sports car pushing a hundred miles per hour and then they run over tire spikes. Needless to say the car looses it's four tires and comes to a literal crashing stop. In a way, when a human realizes they have done something and feels remorse, that same screeching halt occurs. For some it is a light tap on the breaks and for others it is a spectacular explosive car crash worthy of Hollywood cinema.
It varies by person, personal belief and the empathy that one posses towards others.
III. The third and final definition is that of a lifestyle of guilt. To knowingly cause harm and then continue on with life. Sociopaths, professional criminals and the super spiritual are sure to apply for this.
This goes beyond simply feeling and knowing remorse, it requires willful breaking of this law and continually doing so.
The interesting wording of this definition is not that a person accidentally or somehow is ignorant of the law, the person realizes they are violating an ethic standard but at the same time they continue. This pushes well beyond simple understanding and requires a deep delving into the mind, the psyche, the soul, the base reasoning and understanding of that person to even begin to the attempt to grasp at understanding of their behavior.
There are no easy examples of this because each person, each case is a unique example of this state. Seemingly few people willfully subject themselves to abuse but it almost feels as if this understanding of guilt is rampant among those who believe. The guilty are only suppose to run when they think they are being pursued but with the epic marathon being ran one would think most of the population are personally guilty for a genocide worth of sin.
Why do some people feel unable to breath after making a small lie whereas others can easily kill a dozen people based upon their racial heritage and then sleep at night?
There are quite obviously no easy answers in range of grasp.
The very Christian (and a personal belief) of a literal human fall from grace, of us willfully walking from love, peace and grace; and then leaping into the lordship of self servitude is a rather unhappy thought but with enough sincerity one can begin to see the truth of this.
I cannot speak for others really but only make broad assumptions based upon my personal experince. Either everyone else in the world is somewhat like me or drastically different.
Speaking of pain...
"Life is pain, Highness! Anyone who says differently is selling something."
-Westley as The Dread Pirate Robertson, "The Princess Bride"
...I think maybe I quote that too much... >_>
-Westley as The Dread Pirate Robertson, "The Princess Bride"
...I think maybe I quote that too much... >_>
Hmm...
I guess I'll work on those questions in the morning.
In the mean time I wish I felt less...distant and sad and feeling...weird and awkward in my mind...and could just...sleep.
In the mean time I wish I felt less...distant and sad and feeling...weird and awkward in my mind...and could just...sleep.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Questions on Guilt
1.Is there such thing as 'good' guilt?
2.What does this look like?
3.What is the cause of it?
4.At what point does 'good' guilt become 'bad' guilt?
5.What are the origins of evil?
6.What is the Satan to man ratio of evil in the world and personal levels?
7.What about those who do not believe in Satan? Is there problems that go unchecked
by not acknowledging his existence?
8.Should people feel guilty for acts they do not commit? Or to clarify the point further, what about events they unintentionally cause?
9.Furthermore why do people feel guilt for things they have no control over or situations where there was no malicious intent?
10.Is there could be a biological reason for guilt?
11.Why do you think people lie?
12.Why do you think Christians seem to be so afraid to have open minds (even if they disagree with the thought) or watch a movie that might not be right in line with their thoughts or hear a bad word or whatever?
2.What does this look like?
3.What is the cause of it?
4.At what point does 'good' guilt become 'bad' guilt?
5.What are the origins of evil?
6.What is the Satan to man ratio of evil in the world and personal levels?
7.What about those who do not believe in Satan? Is there problems that go unchecked
by not acknowledging his existence?
8.Should people feel guilty for acts they do not commit? Or to clarify the point further, what about events they unintentionally cause?
9.Furthermore why do people feel guilt for things they have no control over or situations where there was no malicious intent?
10.Is there could be a biological reason for guilt?
11.Why do you think people lie?
12.Why do you think Christians seem to be so afraid to have open minds (even if they disagree with the thought) or watch a movie that might not be right in line with their thoughts or hear a bad word or whatever?
...
Yeah yeah yeah.
...and stuff.
Not much of a lot of stuff.
Just...stuff.
Is that poetically expressive enough?
...and stuff.
Not much of a lot of stuff.
Just...stuff.
Is that poetically expressive enough?
Hmm...
The dentist is indeed a much more cheerful place than I remember...also, it is really hard to whistle when half your face is numb from Novocaine...it's quite sad really...
Odd
I went to the dentist, took a nap while waiting on some dental work to take place and even though the right side of my face is numb...overall I feel...more at peace. I think writing so much earlier helped to loose some more recent fear and disappointments...and at the same time the magical nap helped.
I just have not eaten any food since five yesterday afternoon. So it's been about twenty four hours since I had a meal.
I need to get something soon.
But it's nice to be able the breath and not feel like the walls are collapsing on me right this moment.
I want to keep breathing.
I know it is going to be hard again soon but right now, right now I can breath and not worry about the rest of the world.
This moment is just enough because it contains all the other moments that will ever be.
I just have not eaten any food since five yesterday afternoon. So it's been about twenty four hours since I had a meal.
I need to get something soon.
But it's nice to be able the breath and not feel like the walls are collapsing on me right this moment.
I want to keep breathing.
I know it is going to be hard again soon but right now, right now I can breath and not worry about the rest of the world.
This moment is just enough because it contains all the other moments that will ever be.
Blue Cold Reasoning Jazz
I have nothing to say but everything.
Nothing to do but think of you.
Annoying as it is
I can't do much else
Except laying in
this personalized coffin
painted black and red
showing off my various sins.
I'm not depressed, just as mush as I am tired.
I'm not sick, just as much as I am malfunctioning.
I am not really even me,
when you get down to the base facts,
that guy was never here when you got here.
The facts you think you are hearing in your mind
is just your television set that you can't quite turn off
because you don't need much reality when you have it
at the touch of a button.
Images, videos, and streaming screams,
the worst and worst we have to offer ourselves.
All at the touch and click of a button.
I am out of my element
and out of my time.
I have time but I'm not where I should be.
Running water is nice
but I would rather be running for life
out of this place
and into the future of hope.
I could say I'm sorry
but do we even know what that means now?
I keep loosing track of myself
and my mind.
Just me and Lucifer
and the rest of our kind.
A couple of drinks
to help us ease out minds.
Reflect and regret on all of our lives
and see where it all went wrong.
Trite as it is to regret when all is said and done
one can always hope someone is there
to hear you say "I'm sorry."
even when it seems to be the mantra
of the hour and of the dead.
It all began and will end in this club,
every idea revolving around hope.
Every tattered message
arriving just two days to late.
It's all in your eyes I know
the pain, the fear, the hate
and I don't know what to say.
I never knew except to smile
and that I want to try.
Not even realizing I was quoting myself
and all of my lies.
Not realizing to bother is to care
and the last thing my soul needed
but was to pretend something
that was never true.
It's kind of a sick feeling really.
Nothing I know or can do.
Nothing I want to look at.
It's all just a blue anyways.
Time falling back and forward
and forgetting its place.
Not knowing it should work for us
and not against us
pulling out reality apart
one shred at a time,
one tear at a time.
The reason I feel so sick
is because of knowing how this is all on me
that all of these crimes go back
and will fall on me to answer.
And I've got nothing to say,
no way to defend
no way to explain
or absolve myself of the sin.
Just the knowledge
of always how hollow my grin
and how tired my soul
of pretending
and no longer able to cope
with the merest lie
and the most basic of all these.
It really isn't you,
it is all me.
I can't even say goodbye
because words won't define
the lack of hope.
Words can't convey the fear
and the hurt.
The shock of my own ignorance
and my belligerence
and my stupidity.
My own personal Hell.
Skirting past purgatory
like it was just a bad dream.
If I'm lucky I'll awake
and no longer be in this wood structure,
no longer bound by failing flesh
and a diseased mind.
Not longer buying my way out
and no longer building myself in.
Just maybe a shred of hope
on top of it all.
Realizing it was all for nothing
but maybe there are some left standing,
a few worth knowing that won't
end things thus and this way.
Nothing lasts beyond our fetid hands,
nothing can be grasped for long
because time causes the deepest wounds.
The stronger the love the deeper the cut
the more that will never heal
and the last reminder
of how none of it was worth it after all.
All I want is to be forgotten,
to fade from sight.
Let the steady beat carry me out
of your mind
your imagination.
To wash things clear
and to be forgiven.
For all the things done,
all the pain caused
and for things to be forgotten.
That is my strongest hope.
To let the sands of time
just eat away,
corrode away my pain.
Eat away at the last memories
of how I ended it all
so pitifully.
Just letting things fall apart
as I ignored any sense of worth
and anything that could have made sense.
Just out of sync with reality
and words
and rhyming schemes
and anything worth worrying about.
There just are not words for moments like these.
There just isn't enough of anything
for now
for later
or for forever.
It's all a bit too much
right now.
It's too early anyhow.
Anyway it is formed
it is too early for such endless schemes.
Ridiculous circles not making sense.
I would but I won't
bother to say
goodbye and goodnight.
The lines of communication
are much too poor anyway.
There is too much of a din
too loud of chaos
that I don't even understand anymore.
It just took a few short years to get here
and a life time of sin so compact
and so complicated.
So much unsaid but there is no need
to regret over such little matters
when there is nothing but cold
logic driving the song.
Nothing but necessity
and a few broken words.
There is much more
but don't ask
because there is no need to share.
Just a lot of memories
that can never cease to be.
That are not kind enough to be quiet
and remove themselves from the back.
But that is life,
living it in it's own reasons
and own ways.
No matter how black and off white,
no matter how untidy
and painful.
There is no resolution
or end to this song
because it is free forming and falling.
Just as much as it failed.
Just like this experiment.
Fin.
Nothing to do but think of you.
Annoying as it is
I can't do much else
Except laying in
this personalized coffin
painted black and red
showing off my various sins.
I'm not depressed, just as mush as I am tired.
I'm not sick, just as much as I am malfunctioning.
I am not really even me,
when you get down to the base facts,
that guy was never here when you got here.
The facts you think you are hearing in your mind
is just your television set that you can't quite turn off
because you don't need much reality when you have it
at the touch of a button.
Images, videos, and streaming screams,
the worst and worst we have to offer ourselves.
All at the touch and click of a button.
I am out of my element
and out of my time.
I have time but I'm not where I should be.
Running water is nice
but I would rather be running for life
out of this place
and into the future of hope.
I could say I'm sorry
but do we even know what that means now?
I keep loosing track of myself
and my mind.
Just me and Lucifer
and the rest of our kind.
A couple of drinks
to help us ease out minds.
Reflect and regret on all of our lives
and see where it all went wrong.
Trite as it is to regret when all is said and done
one can always hope someone is there
to hear you say "I'm sorry."
even when it seems to be the mantra
of the hour and of the dead.
It all began and will end in this club,
every idea revolving around hope.
Every tattered message
arriving just two days to late.
It's all in your eyes I know
the pain, the fear, the hate
and I don't know what to say.
I never knew except to smile
and that I want to try.
Not even realizing I was quoting myself
and all of my lies.
Not realizing to bother is to care
and the last thing my soul needed
but was to pretend something
that was never true.
It's kind of a sick feeling really.
Nothing I know or can do.
Nothing I want to look at.
It's all just a blue anyways.
Time falling back and forward
and forgetting its place.
Not knowing it should work for us
and not against us
pulling out reality apart
one shred at a time,
one tear at a time.
The reason I feel so sick
is because of knowing how this is all on me
that all of these crimes go back
and will fall on me to answer.
And I've got nothing to say,
no way to defend
no way to explain
or absolve myself of the sin.
Just the knowledge
of always how hollow my grin
and how tired my soul
of pretending
and no longer able to cope
with the merest lie
and the most basic of all these.
It really isn't you,
it is all me.
I can't even say goodbye
because words won't define
the lack of hope.
Words can't convey the fear
and the hurt.
The shock of my own ignorance
and my belligerence
and my stupidity.
My own personal Hell.
Skirting past purgatory
like it was just a bad dream.
If I'm lucky I'll awake
and no longer be in this wood structure,
no longer bound by failing flesh
and a diseased mind.
Not longer buying my way out
and no longer building myself in.
Just maybe a shred of hope
on top of it all.
Realizing it was all for nothing
but maybe there are some left standing,
a few worth knowing that won't
end things thus and this way.
Nothing lasts beyond our fetid hands,
nothing can be grasped for long
because time causes the deepest wounds.
The stronger the love the deeper the cut
the more that will never heal
and the last reminder
of how none of it was worth it after all.
All I want is to be forgotten,
to fade from sight.
Let the steady beat carry me out
of your mind
your imagination.
To wash things clear
and to be forgiven.
For all the things done,
all the pain caused
and for things to be forgotten.
That is my strongest hope.
To let the sands of time
just eat away,
corrode away my pain.
Eat away at the last memories
of how I ended it all
so pitifully.
Just letting things fall apart
as I ignored any sense of worth
and anything that could have made sense.
Just out of sync with reality
and words
and rhyming schemes
and anything worth worrying about.
There just are not words for moments like these.
There just isn't enough of anything
for now
for later
or for forever.
It's all a bit too much
right now.
It's too early anyhow.
Anyway it is formed
it is too early for such endless schemes.
Ridiculous circles not making sense.
I would but I won't
bother to say
goodbye and goodnight.
The lines of communication
are much too poor anyway.
There is too much of a din
too loud of chaos
that I don't even understand anymore.
It just took a few short years to get here
and a life time of sin so compact
and so complicated.
So much unsaid but there is no need
to regret over such little matters
when there is nothing but cold
logic driving the song.
Nothing but necessity
and a few broken words.
There is much more
but don't ask
because there is no need to share.
Just a lot of memories
that can never cease to be.
That are not kind enough to be quiet
and remove themselves from the back.
But that is life,
living it in it's own reasons
and own ways.
No matter how black and off white,
no matter how untidy
and painful.
There is no resolution
or end to this song
because it is free forming and falling.
Just as much as it failed.
Just like this experiment.
Fin.
A Few Thoughts:
-Food just doesn't taste as good if you have to buy it.
-Taste is as subjective as any opinion but not liking Queen is like saying you do not enjoy breathing. Or me having intelligent conversations with you.
-If I'm negative and you are positive does that mean if we were added together I would win every argument every time?
-Don't they have a voodoo spell for people who aren't comfortable being in their own skin?
-If sleep isn't as important as some people make it out to be why don't more people try giving it up? Instead of sleeping one third of their lives they could sleep only a fifth and live about four times shorter in the process.
-If I like musical diversity, does this mean I can't have my Cake cd and listen to it at the same time?
-Is it simple nostalgia for a child hood with so few good memories but hasn't music simply gotten worse as time has gone on? I don't care how postmodern a person is booms, clicks and terrible rhyming structure simply does not make something a song.
-Sometimes U2 makes me sad over all the underused potential.
-I'm really in the mood to be hopeful but I'm too tired. Plus I have a dentist appointment later today.
-I used to think I had a problem with just wanting pills to fix everything and then quite like Dr.House I just have a pain problem.
-Somedays I wish a zombie apocalypse would happen just to be able to prove moral relativity wrong. But then again that is like saying playing baseball with live hand grenades will make a little league team better prepared to take on a professional ball team.
-But the great thing about zombies are that they are the great equalizer...and proof George A. Romero is awesome.
-The fact I'm still writing this is also proof I need to be slapped across my head, or something just as motivating.
-Taste is as subjective as any opinion but not liking Queen is like saying you do not enjoy breathing. Or me having intelligent conversations with you.
-If I'm negative and you are positive does that mean if we were added together I would win every argument every time?
-Don't they have a voodoo spell for people who aren't comfortable being in their own skin?
-If sleep isn't as important as some people make it out to be why don't more people try giving it up? Instead of sleeping one third of their lives they could sleep only a fifth and live about four times shorter in the process.
-If I like musical diversity, does this mean I can't have my Cake cd and listen to it at the same time?
-Is it simple nostalgia for a child hood with so few good memories but hasn't music simply gotten worse as time has gone on? I don't care how postmodern a person is booms, clicks and terrible rhyming structure simply does not make something a song.
-Sometimes U2 makes me sad over all the underused potential.
-I'm really in the mood to be hopeful but I'm too tired. Plus I have a dentist appointment later today.
-I used to think I had a problem with just wanting pills to fix everything and then quite like Dr.House I just have a pain problem.
-Somedays I wish a zombie apocalypse would happen just to be able to prove moral relativity wrong. But then again that is like saying playing baseball with live hand grenades will make a little league team better prepared to take on a professional ball team.
-But the great thing about zombies are that they are the great equalizer...and proof George A. Romero is awesome.
-The fact I'm still writing this is also proof I need to be slapped across my head, or something just as motivating.
A Moment of Thought on Hope
Three parts self delusion, two parts the hope of the future, a third of it is the magic of life, whereas another fourth of it is reassurance in the dark of the night and lest I forget another fifteenth of it is my inability to process math and by math I specifically mean fractions.
Medicated Thoughts
There is a rather large hole in me that keeps trying to get filled.
Nothing I put in works, all it odes it make the edges crumble in and make the hole larger and more efficient at causing me to be in great pain.
Some wounds may never heal, every attempt to fix it seems to make it worse.
It's less dramatic than it sounds but practically speaking I'm not sure where to begin trying to change things.
My soul is grieved over the pain I see, I experience, I cause, I try to heal and that is around and in me.
I feel like the darkness and light in me are such a combination that it drives people away, friends I dearly miss but that I do not know how to communicate with anymore because I feel so alien, so different, so strange, so apart from the rest of life.
The annoying thing is I sound like a broken record and have literally posted hundreds of posts on here about this same thing.
Personally I am annoyed by it.
What am I doing here?
Where am I going if anywhere?
What is the point?
Honestly.
Words.
What more?
Cycles?
Cyclic pain and death?
Circles we draw in sand and then attempt to understand based upon previous experience and whatever convenient lies we make up along the way?
I pray for a quick end to this reality.
I cannot understand or handle whatever it is I am.
I'm so tired of myself and all of these useless words and posts.
I wish I could find either absolution for all of the pain I've caused or I find a way to ease into the next life much easier.
I don't care, honestly I don't.
It is hard to keep focus when I am on so much useless medicine that makes it almost impossible for me to focus or be able to do anything worthwhile.
So much pain
Right now.
So little purpose.
Nothing I put in works, all it odes it make the edges crumble in and make the hole larger and more efficient at causing me to be in great pain.
Some wounds may never heal, every attempt to fix it seems to make it worse.
It's less dramatic than it sounds but practically speaking I'm not sure where to begin trying to change things.
My soul is grieved over the pain I see, I experience, I cause, I try to heal and that is around and in me.
I feel like the darkness and light in me are such a combination that it drives people away, friends I dearly miss but that I do not know how to communicate with anymore because I feel so alien, so different, so strange, so apart from the rest of life.
The annoying thing is I sound like a broken record and have literally posted hundreds of posts on here about this same thing.
Personally I am annoyed by it.
What am I doing here?
Where am I going if anywhere?
What is the point?
Honestly.
Words.
What more?
Cycles?
Cyclic pain and death?
Circles we draw in sand and then attempt to understand based upon previous experience and whatever convenient lies we make up along the way?
I pray for a quick end to this reality.
I cannot understand or handle whatever it is I am.
I'm so tired of myself and all of these useless words and posts.
I wish I could find either absolution for all of the pain I've caused or I find a way to ease into the next life much easier.
I don't care, honestly I don't.
It is hard to keep focus when I am on so much useless medicine that makes it almost impossible for me to focus or be able to do anything worthwhile.
So much pain
Right now.
So little purpose.
Showbread lyrics
To be common place would be unique,
But we’re so obscure we’re incoherent,
Like tongueless vigilantes choking just to make you choke,
Rattling, rattling,
No nails to hold ideas in place, no expression on your face
Music and her patrons are dead and irrelevant,
Like osteoporosis, she’s brittle she is broken
Static comes through synthesizers, megaphones and drum machines,
Beauty sounds like smashed guitars,
And several references to feedback,
Rattling, rattling,
No surgery to save your life,
No promise everything’s all right
Music and her patrons are dead and irrelevant,
Like osteoporosis she’s brittle and she is broken,
Languages must be organic because like flies they fall and die,
Music now sleeps with Latin and Aramaic,
It’s over, it’s over,
No more waiting for something to live for,
It’s over, it’s over,
Everything is dying and we want something more
-"The Bell Jar", Showbread
But we’re so obscure we’re incoherent,
Like tongueless vigilantes choking just to make you choke,
Rattling, rattling,
No nails to hold ideas in place, no expression on your face
Music and her patrons are dead and irrelevant,
Like osteoporosis, she’s brittle she is broken
Static comes through synthesizers, megaphones and drum machines,
Beauty sounds like smashed guitars,
And several references to feedback,
Rattling, rattling,
No surgery to save your life,
No promise everything’s all right
Music and her patrons are dead and irrelevant,
Like osteoporosis she’s brittle and she is broken,
Languages must be organic because like flies they fall and die,
Music now sleeps with Latin and Aramaic,
It’s over, it’s over,
No more waiting for something to live for,
It’s over, it’s over,
Everything is dying and we want something more
-"The Bell Jar", Showbread
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Words Again
If I had words I would say them
if I had hope I would give it.
If I had breath I would share it
but all in all is this drowning feeling.
Relatively speaking it is nothing new.
Just a few more words added to a growing list.
A list just made of paper and a few markings,
nothing new and nothing exciting.
Just the totality of the past
summed up in insufficient terms
simplified so I might explain,
explain to who or what
I'll never know
but I'll offer my confession to the sky.
No right, no wrong
no left no right.
Simply cliches
disguised as more.
Well more like over simplification
in the guise of a disguise
so I can mask my true feelings
while pretending something is nothing
and nothing is more
when nothing is indeed something of nothing
and you are you and that is all I know.
Nothing more, nothing more.
Nothing less than pure honesty,
so I want nothing more.
This nothing is something.
I made it so.
A hollow space in my heart
never knowing it would grow.
But it has.
And will.
Every event pushing it wider
making life harder and tighter
and sanity less of an appeal.
The more I see
the less I feel.
The more I feel
the less I believe.
The harder it gets to see.
Much less be me.
It's coming full circle,
whatever that really means
in this out of place
rhetorical context.
if I had hope I would give it.
If I had breath I would share it
but all in all is this drowning feeling.
Relatively speaking it is nothing new.
Just a few more words added to a growing list.
A list just made of paper and a few markings,
nothing new and nothing exciting.
Just the totality of the past
summed up in insufficient terms
simplified so I might explain,
explain to who or what
I'll never know
but I'll offer my confession to the sky.
No right, no wrong
no left no right.
Simply cliches
disguised as more.
Well more like over simplification
in the guise of a disguise
so I can mask my true feelings
while pretending something is nothing
and nothing is more
when nothing is indeed something of nothing
and you are you and that is all I know.
Nothing more, nothing more.
Nothing less than pure honesty,
so I want nothing more.
This nothing is something.
I made it so.
A hollow space in my heart
never knowing it would grow.
But it has.
And will.
Every event pushing it wider
making life harder and tighter
and sanity less of an appeal.
The more I see
the less I feel.
The more I feel
the less I believe.
The harder it gets to see.
Much less be me.
It's coming full circle,
whatever that really means
in this out of place
rhetorical context.
Some thoughts:
-Food just doesn't taste as good if you have to buy it.
-Taste is as subjective as any opinion but not liking Queen is like saying you do not enjoy breathing. Or me having intelligent conversations with you.
-If I'm negative and you are positive does that mean if we were added together I would win every argument every time?
-Don't they have a voodoo spell for people who aren't comfortable being in their own skin?
-If sleep isn't as important as some people make it out to be why don't more people try giving it up? Instead of sleeping one third of their lives they could sleep only a fifth and live about four times shorter in the process.
-If I like musical diversity, does this mean I can't have my Cake cd and listen to it at the same time?
-Is it simple nostalgia for a child hood with so few good memories but hasn't music simply gotten worse as time has gone on? I don't care how postmodern a person is booms, clicks and terrible rhyming structure simply does not make something a song.
-Sometimes U2 makes me sad over all the underused potential.
-I'm really in the mood to be hopeful but I'm too tired. Plus I have a dentist appointment later today.
-I used to think I had a problem with just wanting pills to fix everything and then quite like Dr.House I just have a pain problem.
-Somedays I wish a zombie apocalypse would happen just to be able to prove moral relativity wrong. But then again that is like saying playing baseball with live hand grenades will make a little league team better prepared to take on a professional ball team.
-But the great thing about zombies are that they are the great equalizer...and proof George A. Romero is awesome.
-The fact I'm still writing this is also proof I need to be slapped across my head, or something just as motivating.
-Taste is as subjective as any opinion but not liking Queen is like saying you do not enjoy breathing. Or me having intelligent conversations with you.
-If I'm negative and you are positive does that mean if we were added together I would win every argument every time?
-Don't they have a voodoo spell for people who aren't comfortable being in their own skin?
-If sleep isn't as important as some people make it out to be why don't more people try giving it up? Instead of sleeping one third of their lives they could sleep only a fifth and live about four times shorter in the process.
-If I like musical diversity, does this mean I can't have my Cake cd and listen to it at the same time?
-Is it simple nostalgia for a child hood with so few good memories but hasn't music simply gotten worse as time has gone on? I don't care how postmodern a person is booms, clicks and terrible rhyming structure simply does not make something a song.
-Sometimes U2 makes me sad over all the underused potential.
-I'm really in the mood to be hopeful but I'm too tired. Plus I have a dentist appointment later today.
-I used to think I had a problem with just wanting pills to fix everything and then quite like Dr.House I just have a pain problem.
-Somedays I wish a zombie apocalypse would happen just to be able to prove moral relativity wrong. But then again that is like saying playing baseball with live hand grenades will make a little league team better prepared to take on a professional ball team.
-But the great thing about zombies are that they are the great equalizer...and proof George A. Romero is awesome.
-The fact I'm still writing this is also proof I need to be slapped across my head, or something just as motivating.
Some thoughts:
-Food just doesn't taste as good if you have to buy it.
-Taste is as subjective as any opinion but not liking Queen is like saying you do not enjoy breathing. Or me having intelligent conversations with you.
-If I'm negative and you are positive does that mean if we were added together I would win every argument every time?
-Don't they have a voodoo spell for people who aren't comfortable being in their own skin?
-If sleep isn't as important as some people make it out to be why don't more people try giving it up? Instead of sleeping one third of their lives they could sleep only a fifth and live about four times shorter in the process.
-If I like musical diversity, does this mean I can't have my Cake cd and listen to it at the same time?
-Is it simple nostalgia for a child hood with so few good memories but hasn't music simply gotten worse as time has gone on? I don't care how postmodern a person is booms, clicks and terrible rhyming structure simply does not make something a song.
-Sometimes U2 makes me sad over all the underused potential.
-I'm really in the mood to be hopeful but I'm too tired. Plus I have a dentist appointment later today.
-I used to think I had a problem with just wanting pills to fix everything and then quite like Dr.House I just have a pain problem.
-Somedays I wish a zombie apocalypse would happen just to be able to prove moral relativity wrong. But then again that is like saying playing baseball with live hand grenades will make a little league team better prepared to take on a professional ball team.
-But the great thing about zombies are that they are the great equalizer...and proof George A. Romero is awesome.
-The fact I'm still writing this is also proof I need to be slapped across my head, or something just as motivating.
-Taste is as subjective as any opinion but not liking Queen is like saying you do not enjoy breathing. Or me having intelligent conversations with you.
-If I'm negative and you are positive does that mean if we were added together I would win every argument every time?
-Don't they have a voodoo spell for people who aren't comfortable being in their own skin?
-If sleep isn't as important as some people make it out to be why don't more people try giving it up? Instead of sleeping one third of their lives they could sleep only a fifth and live about four times shorter in the process.
-If I like musical diversity, does this mean I can't have my Cake cd and listen to it at the same time?
-Is it simple nostalgia for a child hood with so few good memories but hasn't music simply gotten worse as time has gone on? I don't care how postmodern a person is booms, clicks and terrible rhyming structure simply does not make something a song.
-Sometimes U2 makes me sad over all the underused potential.
-I'm really in the mood to be hopeful but I'm too tired. Plus I have a dentist appointment later today.
-I used to think I had a problem with just wanting pills to fix everything and then quite like Dr.House I just have a pain problem.
-Somedays I wish a zombie apocalypse would happen just to be able to prove moral relativity wrong. But then again that is like saying playing baseball with live hand grenades will make a little league team better prepared to take on a professional ball team.
-But the great thing about zombies are that they are the great equalizer...and proof George A. Romero is awesome.
-The fact I'm still writing this is also proof I need to be slapped across my head, or something just as motivating.
BS2 Song
blessed is the man who does prevail
doomed are the peacemakers when they fail
if hope springs eternal it never does here
I guess I lost all my hope last year
I tried to steal the moon from the sky
I am lost and lonely
I drift in space
my dreams are haunted by her face
blessed are the drifters, the stars that die
whose light expires, before goodbyes
goodbye, goodbye
binary star
you're the brightest blue by far
and up against the starry sea
I thought that you were meant for me
blessed are the meek who shall inherit
the throes of death for all their merit
the right to stumble, to fall and perish
doomed are those who hold and cherish
I tried to steal the moon from the sky
you hide behind your broken wings
your dreams are all for better things
and in the dark we climb this slope
cause the bravest thing is always hope
goodbye, goodbye
binary star
you're the brightest blue by far
and up against the starry sea
I thought that you were meant for me
"Binary", Brave Saint Saturn
doomed are the peacemakers when they fail
if hope springs eternal it never does here
I guess I lost all my hope last year
I tried to steal the moon from the sky
I am lost and lonely
I drift in space
my dreams are haunted by her face
blessed are the drifters, the stars that die
whose light expires, before goodbyes
goodbye, goodbye
binary star
you're the brightest blue by far
and up against the starry sea
I thought that you were meant for me
blessed are the meek who shall inherit
the throes of death for all their merit
the right to stumble, to fall and perish
doomed are those who hold and cherish
I tried to steal the moon from the sky
you hide behind your broken wings
your dreams are all for better things
and in the dark we climb this slope
cause the bravest thing is always hope
goodbye, goodbye
binary star
you're the brightest blue by far
and up against the starry sea
I thought that you were meant for me
"Binary", Brave Saint Saturn
Never More
Nothing more.
Nothing now.
Nothing again.
Nothing ever.
Go to sleep.
More than enough.
It's just the same.
Nothing now.
Nothing again.
Nothing ever.
Go to sleep.
More than enough.
It's just the same.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Undertones Softly Spoken
Wordless.
Speechless.
I don't even know what to say.
It's hard waking up,
it's harder getting up.
Facing life isn't what it used to be,
you don't have assurance
you don't get second chances.
It feels a clutter,
it fee;s weak and loose.
I don't even have words for tonight.
I keep loosing ground with every sigh,
I keep loosing myself forgoing foresight.
I want to breath again,
I want to remember life,
I want to breath deep
and take in forgotten air.
I've got nothing but you
and you say you've got naught but me.
I don't know numbers
and won't pretend to understand
when all I've got is my hurt.
I can't pretend to walk
when I can't stand.
I won't pretend to understand
when all I do is doubt.
The only thing I begin to feel certain about
is how uncertain you make me feel tonight
and every night of every day.
It's not a dance nor an embrace.
I'm empty and you're all I've got
and it's not enough.
Not enough for today or tomorrow
or the shadows stretching out past your face.
Just can we try,
try to put the past behind for tonight,
just letting love run free.
Beyond my self, beyond my fear
and doubt of your real existence,
can we just be here
and be here tonight?
Speechless.
I don't even know what to say.
It's hard waking up,
it's harder getting up.
Facing life isn't what it used to be,
you don't have assurance
you don't get second chances.
It feels a clutter,
it fee;s weak and loose.
I don't even have words for tonight.
I keep loosing ground with every sigh,
I keep loosing myself forgoing foresight.
I want to breath again,
I want to remember life,
I want to breath deep
and take in forgotten air.
I've got nothing but you
and you say you've got naught but me.
I don't know numbers
and won't pretend to understand
when all I've got is my hurt.
I can't pretend to walk
when I can't stand.
I won't pretend to understand
when all I do is doubt.
The only thing I begin to feel certain about
is how uncertain you make me feel tonight
and every night of every day.
It's not a dance nor an embrace.
I'm empty and you're all I've got
and it's not enough.
Not enough for today or tomorrow
or the shadows stretching out past your face.
Just can we try,
try to put the past behind for tonight,
just letting love run free.
Beyond my self, beyond my fear
and doubt of your real existence,
can we just be here
and be here tonight?
Getting A Bit Better
Can looking myself in the mirror, staring deep and trying to honestly find myself lead to the bigger problems being fixed?
Directly no.
That is an impossible thought.
But taking the time to realize who I am and sincerely where I stand in the world, taking realistic and healthy looks at myself will only lead to the potential for positive changes.
The problems we face...easier to just use the word sin...all of it is caused by pride on some level or another...pride in thinking we are the ones who are in control, we own our bodies, we can control others, we can use others, we can blindly act without regard to others...this crazy notion that we shape our own destiny and that we are the ones who are central to the story of life.
It is sort of spitting reality in the face...this lie of thinking we are more important...which sort of flies in the face of humility and love.
Honestly, if there there is no difference in morality then why even bother trying to have a point in the first place?
If all of this is absolutely relative and simply based upon preference then there is no sincerity, no love and no real purpose in anything.
Even pleasure has no meaning because there has to be a measure of which can be judged good and pleasurable...life just becomes useless rubbish with no meaning.
That could be a sincere and healthy dose of reality...the actual possibility of no hope, no love, no God, no goodness and just the idea of us all being a random accident.
That is a possibility but at the same time any attempt for someone to force their belief is null and void because they have no right to claim superiority.
But what would that even matter?
Hypothetical thought only does so much when you have had truth standing next to you and touching your heart, breaking you and brining you back to life.
What is the point of truth if you choose to ignore it?
Facts can't save humanity, only action and decision to move past our inflated egos and embrace love...can have any real change...and not just love...but sincere and infinite love offered only by the one bigger than all.
I'm tired of feeling like I'm only half alive...because I'm ignoring the truth I've found and felt...ignoring real love that goes beyond my inability to cope with people...I mean...just ignoring truth and the fact I'm broken and am frail but I'm not hopeless...that no one is hopeless...that we all deserve and should be loved...ignoring the fact that if I stopped long enough I can be loved and brought closer to the end of this life but one step closer to absolute truth, reality beyond reality...hope beyond hope.
Directly no.
That is an impossible thought.
But taking the time to realize who I am and sincerely where I stand in the world, taking realistic and healthy looks at myself will only lead to the potential for positive changes.
The problems we face...easier to just use the word sin...all of it is caused by pride on some level or another...pride in thinking we are the ones who are in control, we own our bodies, we can control others, we can use others, we can blindly act without regard to others...this crazy notion that we shape our own destiny and that we are the ones who are central to the story of life.
It is sort of spitting reality in the face...this lie of thinking we are more important...which sort of flies in the face of humility and love.
Honestly, if there there is no difference in morality then why even bother trying to have a point in the first place?
If all of this is absolutely relative and simply based upon preference then there is no sincerity, no love and no real purpose in anything.
Even pleasure has no meaning because there has to be a measure of which can be judged good and pleasurable...life just becomes useless rubbish with no meaning.
That could be a sincere and healthy dose of reality...the actual possibility of no hope, no love, no God, no goodness and just the idea of us all being a random accident.
That is a possibility but at the same time any attempt for someone to force their belief is null and void because they have no right to claim superiority.
But what would that even matter?
Hypothetical thought only does so much when you have had truth standing next to you and touching your heart, breaking you and brining you back to life.
What is the point of truth if you choose to ignore it?
Facts can't save humanity, only action and decision to move past our inflated egos and embrace love...can have any real change...and not just love...but sincere and infinite love offered only by the one bigger than all.
I'm tired of feeling like I'm only half alive...because I'm ignoring the truth I've found and felt...ignoring real love that goes beyond my inability to cope with people...I mean...just ignoring truth and the fact I'm broken and am frail but I'm not hopeless...that no one is hopeless...that we all deserve and should be loved...ignoring the fact that if I stopped long enough I can be loved and brought closer to the end of this life but one step closer to absolute truth, reality beyond reality...hope beyond hope.
A few items of note:
1.Feeling so nauseated I can't get out of bed sucks, no matter how you look at it.
2.My cell phone must have new Verizon Wireless technology that allows it to make controlled cell phone sized worm holes for it to disappaer into and reapear at random points in my room.
3.Not getting replies in the email from specific people concernign internships.
4.Feeling more confused now more than ever about stuff.
2.My cell phone must have new Verizon Wireless technology that allows it to make controlled cell phone sized worm holes for it to disappaer into and reapear at random points in my room.
3.Not getting replies in the email from specific people concernign internships.
4.Feeling more confused now more than ever about stuff.
Friday, February 20, 2009
U2 and some
Enjoying U2's new album quite a bit...still not sure on everything but the best line I've heard so far has been:
"Stop helping God across the road like a little old lady"
Ah...so true.
"Stop helping God across the road like a little old lady"
Ah...so true.
Morning Coming Down
Despite these shallow breaths matched only by shallower prayers...I know everything will be okay...it is just hard to focus...
When something goes back, something goes good...even last night...words can't add together or make things right in my head...I feel I keep loosing touch with the ground every time I fall.
I've only heard a few tracks but the new U2 album is streaming on their myspace page...it is more hope then I've wanted to hear about life and the future for a while.
Cynicism and nihilism are so much easier than honesty and truth. No wonder I hate myself so much, much less why U2 is so easy to hate...I suppose earnesty being mistaken for self.
Who know?
I don't even know who I am, much less want to know.
Thanks for propping my soul up a bit against the wall, not sure how much longer I can stand but I appreciate the help so far.
When something goes back, something goes good...even last night...words can't add together or make things right in my head...I feel I keep loosing touch with the ground every time I fall.
I've only heard a few tracks but the new U2 album is streaming on their myspace page...it is more hope then I've wanted to hear about life and the future for a while.
Cynicism and nihilism are so much easier than honesty and truth. No wonder I hate myself so much, much less why U2 is so easy to hate...I suppose earnesty being mistaken for self.
Who know?
I don't even know who I am, much less want to know.
Thanks for propping my soul up a bit against the wall, not sure how much longer I can stand but I appreciate the help so far.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Broken Prayers and Thoughts
I've wanted to apologize for strong language in the past but I can't. Part of being in love is fighting, getting upset, having rows and telling someone how upset you are.
Personally, a sick part of me hopes me telling Jesus "I hate you and wish you would kill me" offends people and helps them realize that God doesn't need us to treat him like an old lady needing to cross the street.
I don't care how crazy I sound because the harder I fall, the worse I hurt, the greater the peace and comfort that wraps around me like a cloak. Even though I'm scared, confused and hurting...there is this peace that scares the Hell out of me.
I don't want to be loved, I don't want to be saved or redeemed from being a pathetic creature...but He still stands over me, holds me, carries me, comforts me and no matter how alone I feel or how much I hurt he never let's go of my hand.
I just hate feeling such a distance in between us, while feeling this passionate love I can't explain to anyone without feeling like I'm talking about some invisible lover that only I can see.
I can't help but feel insane because I hate the concept of love, it scares me, it hurts me and it makes me cry a lot. I don't want to be in love, I don't want to feel happiness, or joy or peace...I'm just sick and want to hurt...but He loves me and I have no choice. I try to run away and he pursues my heart just like he does everyone from their moment of conception to the moment of their dying breath and they awake into eternity.
Words fall short, words cannot describe the absolute infinity of love because they are merely tools of a disgustingly finite creature trying so hard to enter into a realm beyond the merest conceptions of finite organic material.
I want to badly to believe, to love, to live and just move one but Jesus, God, it is so hard. Every breath makes me ache, every moment is this walking through sub zero temperature.
I'm so cold, so needy, so desperate for more, so much so that I can't even comprehend or breath right.
I'm a fool in love, no more and no less.
Just this fool in the freezing rain dying for more of your love again and again.
How can I say I love you?
How can I make it last?
Make it meaningful?
I've tried most of my life to ignore you but my soul NEEDS you, it cries for you with a passion that scares me.
I hate the weakness I feel in my knees when I feel you presence around me.
I hate the tears in my eyes when I feel you touch my heart, my soul and give me more love.
It reminds me how tainted I am, how broken and how unworthy I am and how often I put me and everyone around me through this frustratingly stupid circles of me being depressed, self loathing and hate because I just can't SIMPLY accept your love, that I am loved and that despite the imperfections it will be okay.
If it can't be perfect I selfishly want it all to end.
To die.
To be dissolved because I can't handle such perfection because of how overwhelming it is.
The only thing, the closest I can get to expressing this love...this overwhelming...is through music...the pulsating beat, the piercing guitars...all so loud they almost hurt to hear...the voices, the deep growls...the pain, the love conveyed not so much by the words as the voice...words...expressions that get caught in my throat...that I cannot convey as well as I wish I COULD...but I cannot.
So much pain, so much longing.
So much death.
God, why?
Why allow love and bonds to be formed only to be ripped away, taking away my desire for life? Why allow me to love and feel so deep just so it can be ripped out of my hands and be left on my knees and hands wracking with unexpressed sobs? Unable to cry because people need me to be strong?
Why does this dam have to burst now?
Why do I have to bleed blood?
Why do I have to throw this all up for public display?
Why?
Why?
Why?
"These streets are as cold and wet
As my eyes, flesh and bones are longing home
I was taken out of context
And to think you had me not speaking for a month or two
But it’s not You I know
It’s just me waiting
Waiting for the sun to come out
We are to follow
What if I could stand still and get moved
We are to follow
We are nothing running blind
We are to follow
We are so sick of it now
We are to follow
But I’m scared to be left behind
We are to follow
Nothing now
The TV dies more and more for each day
And the beauty of your eyes (in my head)
Makes the flashing lights behind me on the wall look even more pale
Four o’clock and the sky is getting red
And here I am, just me waiting
Waiting for the sun to come out
I’m throwing myself at you
And I’m holding on for dear life
Can I scream out of tune in this choir
God help me scream
What if I would stand still and get moved
By You"
-Blindside, "We Are to Follow"
Personally, a sick part of me hopes me telling Jesus "I hate you and wish you would kill me" offends people and helps them realize that God doesn't need us to treat him like an old lady needing to cross the street.
I don't care how crazy I sound because the harder I fall, the worse I hurt, the greater the peace and comfort that wraps around me like a cloak. Even though I'm scared, confused and hurting...there is this peace that scares the Hell out of me.
I don't want to be loved, I don't want to be saved or redeemed from being a pathetic creature...but He still stands over me, holds me, carries me, comforts me and no matter how alone I feel or how much I hurt he never let's go of my hand.
I just hate feeling such a distance in between us, while feeling this passionate love I can't explain to anyone without feeling like I'm talking about some invisible lover that only I can see.
I can't help but feel insane because I hate the concept of love, it scares me, it hurts me and it makes me cry a lot. I don't want to be in love, I don't want to feel happiness, or joy or peace...I'm just sick and want to hurt...but He loves me and I have no choice. I try to run away and he pursues my heart just like he does everyone from their moment of conception to the moment of their dying breath and they awake into eternity.
Words fall short, words cannot describe the absolute infinity of love because they are merely tools of a disgustingly finite creature trying so hard to enter into a realm beyond the merest conceptions of finite organic material.
I want to badly to believe, to love, to live and just move one but Jesus, God, it is so hard. Every breath makes me ache, every moment is this walking through sub zero temperature.
I'm so cold, so needy, so desperate for more, so much so that I can't even comprehend or breath right.
I'm a fool in love, no more and no less.
Just this fool in the freezing rain dying for more of your love again and again.
How can I say I love you?
How can I make it last?
Make it meaningful?
I've tried most of my life to ignore you but my soul NEEDS you, it cries for you with a passion that scares me.
I hate the weakness I feel in my knees when I feel you presence around me.
I hate the tears in my eyes when I feel you touch my heart, my soul and give me more love.
It reminds me how tainted I am, how broken and how unworthy I am and how often I put me and everyone around me through this frustratingly stupid circles of me being depressed, self loathing and hate because I just can't SIMPLY accept your love, that I am loved and that despite the imperfections it will be okay.
If it can't be perfect I selfishly want it all to end.
To die.
To be dissolved because I can't handle such perfection because of how overwhelming it is.
The only thing, the closest I can get to expressing this love...this overwhelming...is through music...the pulsating beat, the piercing guitars...all so loud they almost hurt to hear...the voices, the deep growls...the pain, the love conveyed not so much by the words as the voice...words...expressions that get caught in my throat...that I cannot convey as well as I wish I COULD...but I cannot.
So much pain, so much longing.
So much death.
God, why?
Why allow love and bonds to be formed only to be ripped away, taking away my desire for life? Why allow me to love and feel so deep just so it can be ripped out of my hands and be left on my knees and hands wracking with unexpressed sobs? Unable to cry because people need me to be strong?
Why does this dam have to burst now?
Why do I have to bleed blood?
Why do I have to throw this all up for public display?
Why?
Why?
Why?
"These streets are as cold and wet
As my eyes, flesh and bones are longing home
I was taken out of context
And to think you had me not speaking for a month or two
But it’s not You I know
It’s just me waiting
Waiting for the sun to come out
We are to follow
What if I could stand still and get moved
We are to follow
We are nothing running blind
We are to follow
We are so sick of it now
We are to follow
But I’m scared to be left behind
We are to follow
Nothing now
The TV dies more and more for each day
And the beauty of your eyes (in my head)
Makes the flashing lights behind me on the wall look even more pale
Four o’clock and the sky is getting red
And here I am, just me waiting
Waiting for the sun to come out
I’m throwing myself at you
And I’m holding on for dear life
Can I scream out of tune in this choir
God help me scream
What if I would stand still and get moved
By You"
-Blindside, "We Are to Follow"
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