Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Is there something in the water in this house? Why does my family keep thinking I'm faking being sick? Does the fact the doctor keeps removing gallstones from my body not in the least influence any of them in that there is the SLIGHTEST, possible thing wrong with me?
I just should have tried optimism! Sunshine and puppies can fix my ailments!
My God! How much more of this? How much more of YOU making me deal with them? Seriously, are humans allowed to be this stupid and annoying? Did I really die and get sent into a little personal version of Hell? I feel like I'm going even crazier...like no one believes I am in pain, even though the procedure was done yesterday and more of the stupid stones came out and bile flooded my insides, HOORZAY! I must be imagining myself sick and so the doctor sees my imagination!
God, just why? Why? I have never felt so alone or crazy or stupid for even having survived this long.
I just should have tried optimism! Sunshine and puppies can fix my ailments!
My God! How much more of this? How much more of YOU making me deal with them? Seriously, are humans allowed to be this stupid and annoying? Did I really die and get sent into a little personal version of Hell? I feel like I'm going even crazier...like no one believes I am in pain, even though the procedure was done yesterday and more of the stupid stones came out and bile flooded my insides, HOORZAY! I must be imagining myself sick and so the doctor sees my imagination!
God, just why? Why? I have never felt so alone or crazy or stupid for even having survived this long.
Couple of Thoughts
The last breaths of September are here, after a few more hours this month will fade away with the calender, with it the last thoughts of summer as fall will surely turn into winter.
It is a process, a circle, a state of being that is always becoming, a never ending cycle that will no cease for any human.
Despite any reluctant acceptance on our part we can do nothing but bend to the realities of our perceived creation, known as time. We use it to measure every waking moment, every bated breath, every rhythmical beat of the heart and all the like. It is as beautiful as it is horrifying, amazing in its grand creativity and dull in its monotonous repetition.
It might be hyperbole of a scale caused by the drugs from yesterdays procedure but then again to embrace something as superfluously as time itself is to acknowledge our own potent egos, the fallacies of our own breath, the contradictions we openly embrace for our own sanity's sake...words cannot accurately define it because it is something that metaphors and symbols can only vaguely represent, at best. It is as fleeting as life itself is, something experienced only be doing and not perceiving.
It is life itself, the grand sum of our entireties, the uncomfortable feeling of no longer being connected to the ground but that we are floating. The realization that we are the generational byproduct of either an odd but generous God or the mistake of random evolutionary chance.
It would be so much easier if were not gifted and cursed with the processes of higher thoughts. Any human worth their genetic material cannot simply abide while there is a question. Our greatest strength is always our greatest weakness, the fact we are not satisfied with letting questions be when we can experince it ourself and know first hand what we perceive to be concrete answers.
Annoying as it is to always have this splinter in the back of my mind it is also something I could never honestly live without.
As annoying as it is to deal with the many systems inherent with life, it is a must and the consequence of life. Outside of our own personal control and it is what it is and no more and no less.
Frustrating as it is, life cannot help being what it is. It makes less sense the more you try to rationalize but some things cannot be helped.
It is here that I find myself, this being of sickness, of partaking in my own existence and feeling in ways that make little sense to me and only confuse most others. There are less than a handful of people I might begin to try and explain this to because the rest would just look at me as some sort of oddity, some sort of person who is only in need of more difficult work, stronger drugs or whatever they deem necessary to silence my question in order for them to be content.
That sounds a bit needlessly messianic and for that I apologize. I will never claim to be able to save myself so even giving the smallest inkling that I might be able to save others would be a crime.
Like any other honest human I am bound by my senses and perceptions. Things are what I feel them to be and that in itself is frustrating, liberating and ultimately flawed. Nothing a human feels and become aware of can ever be understood outside of their mind, regardless of how well an optic never perceives and how well a hand writes.
That must be one reason why life is considered to be so precious, it cannot be emulated or represented. When one is lost it is forever so. It is more then just loosing an item, it is loosing a representation of life, more than a collection of chemical and biological reactions, it is much more. Once again, more than what we can understand, it simply is.
I wish I could make everyone understand this better but I can't. It is frustrating and makes me sad.
I feel like a confusion, something only halfway correct. My body is in pain and my mind feels the nerve cells and chemical reactions going on. At any given moment there are various explosions of desire, pain and confusion. I do not understand and do not like it but as long as I inhabit this shell I have to accept it.
I'm burned out on trying to be who I am for other people when I would just like to be myself.
I wish I had better words to express all of this, the life and death inside and around me, the pain and the desires. I'm sick of it all, not being able to better give or remember.
I am tired of being at the demands of myself or pretending I am not just to make others feel better about themselves. I never actually asked to be at the mercy of invisible strings pulling my body in any given direction at once.
I just want to be me. Whoever he is.
I have so little and yet so much time at the same time.
I don't care right this second, my head hurts to bad.
It is a process, a circle, a state of being that is always becoming, a never ending cycle that will no cease for any human.
Despite any reluctant acceptance on our part we can do nothing but bend to the realities of our perceived creation, known as time. We use it to measure every waking moment, every bated breath, every rhythmical beat of the heart and all the like. It is as beautiful as it is horrifying, amazing in its grand creativity and dull in its monotonous repetition.
It might be hyperbole of a scale caused by the drugs from yesterdays procedure but then again to embrace something as superfluously as time itself is to acknowledge our own potent egos, the fallacies of our own breath, the contradictions we openly embrace for our own sanity's sake...words cannot accurately define it because it is something that metaphors and symbols can only vaguely represent, at best. It is as fleeting as life itself is, something experienced only be doing and not perceiving.
It is life itself, the grand sum of our entireties, the uncomfortable feeling of no longer being connected to the ground but that we are floating. The realization that we are the generational byproduct of either an odd but generous God or the mistake of random evolutionary chance.
It would be so much easier if were not gifted and cursed with the processes of higher thoughts. Any human worth their genetic material cannot simply abide while there is a question. Our greatest strength is always our greatest weakness, the fact we are not satisfied with letting questions be when we can experince it ourself and know first hand what we perceive to be concrete answers.
Annoying as it is to always have this splinter in the back of my mind it is also something I could never honestly live without.
As annoying as it is to deal with the many systems inherent with life, it is a must and the consequence of life. Outside of our own personal control and it is what it is and no more and no less.
Frustrating as it is, life cannot help being what it is. It makes less sense the more you try to rationalize but some things cannot be helped.
It is here that I find myself, this being of sickness, of partaking in my own existence and feeling in ways that make little sense to me and only confuse most others. There are less than a handful of people I might begin to try and explain this to because the rest would just look at me as some sort of oddity, some sort of person who is only in need of more difficult work, stronger drugs or whatever they deem necessary to silence my question in order for them to be content.
That sounds a bit needlessly messianic and for that I apologize. I will never claim to be able to save myself so even giving the smallest inkling that I might be able to save others would be a crime.
Like any other honest human I am bound by my senses and perceptions. Things are what I feel them to be and that in itself is frustrating, liberating and ultimately flawed. Nothing a human feels and become aware of can ever be understood outside of their mind, regardless of how well an optic never perceives and how well a hand writes.
That must be one reason why life is considered to be so precious, it cannot be emulated or represented. When one is lost it is forever so. It is more then just loosing an item, it is loosing a representation of life, more than a collection of chemical and biological reactions, it is much more. Once again, more than what we can understand, it simply is.
I wish I could make everyone understand this better but I can't. It is frustrating and makes me sad.
I feel like a confusion, something only halfway correct. My body is in pain and my mind feels the nerve cells and chemical reactions going on. At any given moment there are various explosions of desire, pain and confusion. I do not understand and do not like it but as long as I inhabit this shell I have to accept it.
I'm burned out on trying to be who I am for other people when I would just like to be myself.
I wish I had better words to express all of this, the life and death inside and around me, the pain and the desires. I'm sick of it all, not being able to better give or remember.
I am tired of being at the demands of myself or pretending I am not just to make others feel better about themselves. I never actually asked to be at the mercy of invisible strings pulling my body in any given direction at once.
I just want to be me. Whoever he is.
I have so little and yet so much time at the same time.
I don't care right this second, my head hurts to bad.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Bloody Notes
I think one of the main reasons I am so frustrated with so many Christians apathy, selfishness, moral failings and in general their existence is because of how much of myself I see in them, the trappings of humanity I mean.
It is not easy to fail to live up to expectations, especially when those expectations are yours and you typically are an irrational beast focused on himself.
I wish I could be like the others, uncaring and blind in their intoxicating drugs and hedonism.
I may be in miserable pain both with my spirit and body but I know.
I know.
I have seen things no other human has nor would they believe. I have lived a short but explosive life, going places I never intended to either.
It honestly feels like I am at the very end of something. It could be my life in Jemison, my barely functioning trust in Him above or it might be the end of my trappings here on earth.
I wish I could just drink myself into a stupor, just let go and have hedonistic sex with as many women as I could, I wish I could take every possible drug to dull the ache inside my chest that travels through my stomach and to the very reaches of my soul.
My life would be so much easier from a philopshy point of view, a greater number of superficial people would like me more and want me around.
None of it would matter in the long run, it would all be equably pointless as a think and as a treat most people as being.
I seem as being lepers who might possible infect me if I bother to foster any sort of relationship with them. I see them as meaningless scum, the dried out refuse of a world that sees them as being. Worthless, pretentious, lying and theiving bastards, ever last one of them.
As if it was some sort of sick joke I hold myself up as being better than all of them. It is as if I can lie to myself long enough and even I might be tempted to believe it. But, I can't even full the most gullible person, myself.
So much hate. So much extreme emotion and desire I do not understand. I have all of these impulses of seething rage, desperate lust for superficial intimacy, all of these stupid chemical reactions in my head that make less sense than they might have before.
Who am I?
Who are you?
Why, why any of this?
You are the only one that makes sense,
can we just go away,
both You and I?
Run free across these dying wastelands
and find ourselves alone.
Deeply running connections that none understand
but you and I.
This unbreakable heart longs to be held,
understood and shattered.
The desire to be bent and broken is strong,
the desire to die that I might live again.
No matter how much I desire You in love
I hate you back with equal spite.
These contradictions en mass,
Resulting in delayed connections.
I can play this game but I will loose.
I can't stand who I am
anymore than maybe you.
I need a helping hand,
to be held and brought deeper and closer,
this isn't making anymore sense than before.
I could use some disgusting waste,
some indulging lies and forgotten purpose.
Being broke and shattered across this pretty lie,
knowing the look of disgust in your eyes is justified
just because I gave in and indulged.
Your petty lies just make me sick sister,
I just hope you are hurting like me.
The burning desires in my heart manage to touch yours
and leave unforgettable scars that you will never
live down in this life or the next.
It is just this music playing in my ears,
the deep resonating pain inside me.
I hate all I ever held dear,
nothing is worth this, nothing is worth this.
Worthless like so much fool's gold.
Worthless in your sugar coated lies
and false promises.
Worthless because you never knew how
you were such a fool.
All that is remaining after this fire is me.
You can die and be set to rest
in this gold lined coffin,
I have far to much pain left to feel and give.
Gifts too gleeful not to share.
A wicked smile behind serrated teeth,
free flowing masses of blood as I bathe in it.
Soaking up every last desire of my heart
so i can smile at you in pain,
knowing that I KNOW you know my hate.
The inescapable disgust that you are weaker
and I fail because I choose to.
The verdict is in:
I never had enough love to love you.
But why would I stop while I'm on a roll?
Learning to hate you is just too much fun.
It is not easy to fail to live up to expectations, especially when those expectations are yours and you typically are an irrational beast focused on himself.
I wish I could be like the others, uncaring and blind in their intoxicating drugs and hedonism.
I may be in miserable pain both with my spirit and body but I know.
I know.
I have seen things no other human has nor would they believe. I have lived a short but explosive life, going places I never intended to either.
It honestly feels like I am at the very end of something. It could be my life in Jemison, my barely functioning trust in Him above or it might be the end of my trappings here on earth.
I wish I could just drink myself into a stupor, just let go and have hedonistic sex with as many women as I could, I wish I could take every possible drug to dull the ache inside my chest that travels through my stomach and to the very reaches of my soul.
My life would be so much easier from a philopshy point of view, a greater number of superficial people would like me more and want me around.
None of it would matter in the long run, it would all be equably pointless as a think and as a treat most people as being.
I seem as being lepers who might possible infect me if I bother to foster any sort of relationship with them. I see them as meaningless scum, the dried out refuse of a world that sees them as being. Worthless, pretentious, lying and theiving bastards, ever last one of them.
As if it was some sort of sick joke I hold myself up as being better than all of them. It is as if I can lie to myself long enough and even I might be tempted to believe it. But, I can't even full the most gullible person, myself.
So much hate. So much extreme emotion and desire I do not understand. I have all of these impulses of seething rage, desperate lust for superficial intimacy, all of these stupid chemical reactions in my head that make less sense than they might have before.
Who am I?
Who are you?
Why, why any of this?
You are the only one that makes sense,
can we just go away,
both You and I?
Run free across these dying wastelands
and find ourselves alone.
Deeply running connections that none understand
but you and I.
This unbreakable heart longs to be held,
understood and shattered.
The desire to be bent and broken is strong,
the desire to die that I might live again.
No matter how much I desire You in love
I hate you back with equal spite.
These contradictions en mass,
Resulting in delayed connections.
I can play this game but I will loose.
I can't stand who I am
anymore than maybe you.
I need a helping hand,
to be held and brought deeper and closer,
this isn't making anymore sense than before.
I could use some disgusting waste,
some indulging lies and forgotten purpose.
Being broke and shattered across this pretty lie,
knowing the look of disgust in your eyes is justified
just because I gave in and indulged.
Your petty lies just make me sick sister,
I just hope you are hurting like me.
The burning desires in my heart manage to touch yours
and leave unforgettable scars that you will never
live down in this life or the next.
It is just this music playing in my ears,
the deep resonating pain inside me.
I hate all I ever held dear,
nothing is worth this, nothing is worth this.
Worthless like so much fool's gold.
Worthless in your sugar coated lies
and false promises.
Worthless because you never knew how
you were such a fool.
All that is remaining after this fire is me.
You can die and be set to rest
in this gold lined coffin,
I have far to much pain left to feel and give.
Gifts too gleeful not to share.
A wicked smile behind serrated teeth,
free flowing masses of blood as I bathe in it.
Soaking up every last desire of my heart
so i can smile at you in pain,
knowing that I KNOW you know my hate.
The inescapable disgust that you are weaker
and I fail because I choose to.
The verdict is in:
I never had enough love to love you.
But why would I stop while I'm on a roll?
Learning to hate you is just too much fun.
Several Rather Awesome Albums
"Acthung Baby", "Zooropa", "Pop" - U2
"Supernatural" - dc Talk
"Five Iron Frenzy 2: Electric Boogaloo" - Five Iron Frenzy
"The Light of All Things Hoped For" - Brave Saint Saturn
"Somewhere in the Inbetween" - Streetlight Manifesto
"The Great Depression" - Blindside
"Songs in the Key of Life" - Stevie Wonder
"Discovery" - Daft Punk
"London Calling" - The Clash
"At Folsom Prison" - Johnny Cash
"Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" - The Smashing Pumpkins
"No Sir, Nihilism is Not Practical" - Showbread
"The Triptych" - Demon Hunter
"Supernatural" - dc Talk
"Five Iron Frenzy 2: Electric Boogaloo" - Five Iron Frenzy
"The Light of All Things Hoped For" - Brave Saint Saturn
"Somewhere in the Inbetween" - Streetlight Manifesto
"The Great Depression" - Blindside
"Songs in the Key of Life" - Stevie Wonder
"Discovery" - Daft Punk
"London Calling" - The Clash
"At Folsom Prison" - Johnny Cash
"Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness" - The Smashing Pumpkins
"No Sir, Nihilism is Not Practical" - Showbread
"The Triptych" - Demon Hunter
Mirror Images
I'm nothing more than a child,
pretending to be a man.
There is nothing within me
but a childish mind.
Regardless of my false impact
I'm just as hollow
if not more so then these religious tracts.
I speak of being free and being Yours,
but in reality I am nothing less
then the grand total
of a vast improbability
and impossibility,
the sum culmination
standing naked before your eyes.
I can play at being something else,
but you will always see past my image
and see the traitor under the skin.
Every breath I take
and ever lie I hold
You look past and see the real me.
Despite my honest depravity
You have loved me as I am.
Images can play back off of this mirror
but you see what no one else wants to.
You feel the pain in ways
that terrify others.
Because of your love, we hate you.
We bring about your death because
we are terrified of being found worthy,
being understood,
being anything less then what we want.
If it wasn't for the fact we desired it,
we think we would have nothing.
We demand justice and a sign
when all we are doing is standing in your hands.
Broken trusts with shattered lies,
mixed with the tears burning your eyes,
we hate you for showing weakness,
for daring to love us when we first hated you.
pretending to be a man.
There is nothing within me
but a childish mind.
Regardless of my false impact
I'm just as hollow
if not more so then these religious tracts.
I speak of being free and being Yours,
but in reality I am nothing less
then the grand total
of a vast improbability
and impossibility,
the sum culmination
standing naked before your eyes.
I can play at being something else,
but you will always see past my image
and see the traitor under the skin.
Every breath I take
and ever lie I hold
You look past and see the real me.
Despite my honest depravity
You have loved me as I am.
Images can play back off of this mirror
but you see what no one else wants to.
You feel the pain in ways
that terrify others.
Because of your love, we hate you.
We bring about your death because
we are terrified of being found worthy,
being understood,
being anything less then what we want.
If it wasn't for the fact we desired it,
we think we would have nothing.
We demand justice and a sign
when all we are doing is standing in your hands.
Broken trusts with shattered lies,
mixed with the tears burning your eyes,
we hate you for showing weakness,
for daring to love us when we first hated you.
Friday, September 26, 2008
I can't stand who you are.
If I stopped long enough to consider,
even think about the complications
that arise from your life
then I might be nicer.
But I am not.
Just a fiend,
judging
and holding myself
to be much higher,
beyond perfection
and much more than
you could be aware of.
There is so much I just miss and so much pain right now.
If I stopped long enough to consider,
even think about the complications
that arise from your life
then I might be nicer.
But I am not.
Just a fiend,
judging
and holding myself
to be much higher,
beyond perfection
and much more than
you could be aware of.
There is so much I just miss and so much pain right now.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Words Lost In Thoughts
The words floating in this air between us lost their meaning hours ago.
I'm too tired to care enough to lie to you.
If it was still all about you I would just let you be
but my soul is tired from bleeding.
Anemic and empty it just wants to sleep.
Fall into Your arms and find rest.
Sometimes it helps for people to be honest.
Let the bad air be let out,
the honest truth happy endings are on movies.
Celluloid lullabies we whisper,
clutching to whatever idols we built.
It's not a sin to be optimistic
but false hope is a worse despair when it is ripped
and torn from your bleeding hands.
Being slave to the addiction of life,
the fragrance of sin
and the biting taste of its liquor.
This drug setting my veins on fire,
burning inside my soul as I beg to scream
through this bound lips.
Trite as this all may sound it is my life,
not yours and nothing I asked for.
Something more then what the dead have.
It's all I got and it shouldn't be wasted.
I'm too tired to care enough to lie to you.
If it was still all about you I would just let you be
but my soul is tired from bleeding.
Anemic and empty it just wants to sleep.
Fall into Your arms and find rest.
Sometimes it helps for people to be honest.
Let the bad air be let out,
the honest truth happy endings are on movies.
Celluloid lullabies we whisper,
clutching to whatever idols we built.
It's not a sin to be optimistic
but false hope is a worse despair when it is ripped
and torn from your bleeding hands.
Being slave to the addiction of life,
the fragrance of sin
and the biting taste of its liquor.
This drug setting my veins on fire,
burning inside my soul as I beg to scream
through this bound lips.
Trite as this all may sound it is my life,
not yours and nothing I asked for.
Something more then what the dead have.
It's all I got and it shouldn't be wasted.
Cell phone text messaging is honestly one of the most obnoxious and among the stupidest modern inventions of man. That alone would be enough to cause me to wish for any earlier apocalypse but the only thing worse than this annoying technology are those who insist on partaking in it and will not be silent about it.
If I had to choose between a nuclear apocalypse or dealing with someone text messaging me you had better believe I would take the nuclear apocalypse, hands down.
At least that way the freaking cell towers will be down.
If I had to choose between a nuclear apocalypse or dealing with someone text messaging me you had better believe I would take the nuclear apocalypse, hands down.
At least that way the freaking cell towers will be down.
I am simply just everyone's fool.
I can smile and I can dance,
I can writing and wax poetically
and I can wear a smile.
That is enough to make them happy
but few look to see inside me.
That I do not enjoy the games and tire of the wasted life.
If you would dare to venture forth from thy house
and take a look dear lady
then you might see something different.
A horror show of ultra violence,
a shocking sight of human depravity.
You speak of experience but you fool only yourself.
If nothing else you almost make me laugh.
How pitiful, how sad.
God help you because I sure as Hell won't.
I can smile and I can dance,
I can writing and wax poetically
and I can wear a smile.
That is enough to make them happy
but few look to see inside me.
That I do not enjoy the games and tire of the wasted life.
If you would dare to venture forth from thy house
and take a look dear lady
then you might see something different.
A horror show of ultra violence,
a shocking sight of human depravity.
You speak of experience but you fool only yourself.
If nothing else you almost make me laugh.
How pitiful, how sad.
God help you because I sure as Hell won't.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
NANOWRIMO IS COMING!!!
Winter Rains
It is safe to assume you will hear as long as you stand to listen.
We have this platform, you and I, on which we share life.
The days are born, christen with rain and die in shades of red.
The bridegroom chasing his wife,
waxing needlessly eloquent poetry over a mere function of the sky.
The first of many gifts we take for granted.
We laugh together, you and I, in this place.
The skies are gray and forebode violence.
Their chill is matched on in the vapid violence within.
Attentions can be held only for a moment,
the moment before the fallen and grounded rise to meet the heavens.
Inhibitions fall short at the reflection and marvels of the inside.
Everything we take for granted is summed up into this neat package,
real only in the metaphysical and in our delusional pinnings.
We are real in each others eyes only as long as we can see.
When we pass beyond vision and earthly perceptions
please remember me,
for the good and not the bad.
Remember the falling rain intertwined with tears,
the heavens echoing your sentiments in a burning cold.
It has gone beyond a simple choice of no,
it is deciding where you will spend the rest of the all in all.
If this is all we have left,
this place in our rain,
then we have truly fallen from grace.
Angels with no wings,
except we do not know the heaven we missed.
Embracing stains that can never be erased
in exchange for a self made prison.
Hypocritical hyperbole I can only hope is true.
Cravings for grace,
for mercy
and to live
for the love.
Confused battles with no purpose,
except that they exist out here in our rain.
The seas churning in turmoil at the lies
we perfected into a reassuring smile.
Endless seas of thoughts covered in the ever falling rain.
Swirling mists and broken fires lay about in grand circles.
The record player continues to skip in its corner and it screeches,
almost with remorse over what has happened,
what is happening
and what is to come.
A future oh so much clearer,
because of loosing that inhibition.
I refuse to pretend just to make you happy.
Even if you hate it from now until the end,
it sill survive.
All of these things move beyond us and it is okay.
Even with all of these contrived trends
I find nothing worthy of mentioning.
I have nothing but this platform and you.
The emotions pour out easily when you start to realize,
start to realize the utter humanity of our enemy
and the reluctance to extinguish a life that is worthy of life.
I cannot pretend to know.
Things are as they ever will be and can be.
People return but somethings never change.
Even with no moral support, no food and no sleep it can be done.
Just a small walk around our platform
and let the truth speak beyond the floating mists,
a darkened shower,
beyond the trite names.
Let it fall, intermingled with tears.
Colds winds and water lightly dancing in the sky.
Reminders of life and we're still alive.
The only fear we have is together,
just you and I.
We have this platform, you and I, on which we share life.
The days are born, christen with rain and die in shades of red.
The bridegroom chasing his wife,
waxing needlessly eloquent poetry over a mere function of the sky.
The first of many gifts we take for granted.
We laugh together, you and I, in this place.
The skies are gray and forebode violence.
Their chill is matched on in the vapid violence within.
Attentions can be held only for a moment,
the moment before the fallen and grounded rise to meet the heavens.
Inhibitions fall short at the reflection and marvels of the inside.
Everything we take for granted is summed up into this neat package,
real only in the metaphysical and in our delusional pinnings.
We are real in each others eyes only as long as we can see.
When we pass beyond vision and earthly perceptions
please remember me,
for the good and not the bad.
Remember the falling rain intertwined with tears,
the heavens echoing your sentiments in a burning cold.
It has gone beyond a simple choice of no,
it is deciding where you will spend the rest of the all in all.
If this is all we have left,
this place in our rain,
then we have truly fallen from grace.
Angels with no wings,
except we do not know the heaven we missed.
Embracing stains that can never be erased
in exchange for a self made prison.
Hypocritical hyperbole I can only hope is true.
Cravings for grace,
for mercy
and to live
for the love.
Confused battles with no purpose,
except that they exist out here in our rain.
The seas churning in turmoil at the lies
we perfected into a reassuring smile.
Endless seas of thoughts covered in the ever falling rain.
Swirling mists and broken fires lay about in grand circles.
The record player continues to skip in its corner and it screeches,
almost with remorse over what has happened,
what is happening
and what is to come.
A future oh so much clearer,
because of loosing that inhibition.
I refuse to pretend just to make you happy.
Even if you hate it from now until the end,
it sill survive.
All of these things move beyond us and it is okay.
Even with all of these contrived trends
I find nothing worthy of mentioning.
I have nothing but this platform and you.
The emotions pour out easily when you start to realize,
start to realize the utter humanity of our enemy
and the reluctance to extinguish a life that is worthy of life.
I cannot pretend to know.
Things are as they ever will be and can be.
People return but somethings never change.
Even with no moral support, no food and no sleep it can be done.
Just a small walk around our platform
and let the truth speak beyond the floating mists,
a darkened shower,
beyond the trite names.
Let it fall, intermingled with tears.
Colds winds and water lightly dancing in the sky.
Reminders of life and we're still alive.
The only fear we have is together,
just you and I.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
I'm here right now.
Where are we going to go together?
I know the bad that is going to happen because there is so much fear inside of me.
It is sort of hypocritical of me, I know. Depression, the desire to die and not wanting to live...and yet still I feel absolute terror over the thought of being put in danger again.
I haven't been able to sleep well or function. I randomly have the shakes and just am not sure how long I can live like this before I pop.
The dawn is quickly coming this way, lighting up in bright shades of gray.
I long for a better place and better time but I'm afraid my fear will compel me to stay here to long and I will die.
Just stay here please, do not let me go because the hour is late and I don't know what to do or what will happen.
Please.
Where are we going to go together?
I know the bad that is going to happen because there is so much fear inside of me.
It is sort of hypocritical of me, I know. Depression, the desire to die and not wanting to live...and yet still I feel absolute terror over the thought of being put in danger again.
I haven't been able to sleep well or function. I randomly have the shakes and just am not sure how long I can live like this before I pop.
The dawn is quickly coming this way, lighting up in bright shades of gray.
I long for a better place and better time but I'm afraid my fear will compel me to stay here to long and I will die.
Just stay here please, do not let me go because the hour is late and I don't know what to do or what will happen.
Please.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
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