Seriously, what is up with all of you people, friend I mean, getting married?
Slow down.
Some of us are still too immature and unsure of ourselves. If all of you get married without me then who am I going to hang out with?!?
Friday, October 3, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
In so many ways I have demonstrated my failure at obedience and love. God, I'm so sick of this. I feel so nauseated and I want to throw up and taint these stupid trophies I have valued more than your love.
I want to throw myself away and learn to love you.
What happened to that child who fell in love with you?
I'm so sick of this person I play as and pretend to be. I hate his stupid smile and his broken body. I hate how he lusts for power, control, dominace through manipulation and to be loved and wanted by everyone. I hate how he desires to see others suffer so he can look better, I hate his idiotic grin and his playing at being something special.
How can I repulse myself so much?
I want to throw myself away and learn to love you.
What happened to that child who fell in love with you?
I'm so sick of this person I play as and pretend to be. I hate his stupid smile and his broken body. I hate how he lusts for power, control, dominace through manipulation and to be loved and wanted by everyone. I hate how he desires to see others suffer so he can look better, I hate his idiotic grin and his playing at being something special.
How can I repulse myself so much?
Another morning another time for me to feel like my insides are on fire.
Did I at some point say something really, really, really stupid and this is your way to get my attention?
I don't know how long I can go on with increasing pain...I know I'm not the only person in this world...but still.
Please help me here, please.
Did I at some point say something really, really, really stupid and this is your way to get my attention?
I don't know how long I can go on with increasing pain...I know I'm not the only person in this world...but still.
Please help me here, please.
Flowing Ebb of Time
Time is running at a standstill.
Ebbing, pooling and stealing.
It is like I can feel the pulsating life
echoing around me
in this room
as if it were a cavern
or a chamber.
There is this feeling of disconcertion,
maybe something you know as being
something like disconcerting,
anxiety and the anxious one.
Reverberating screams echo in my head
just inside of here.
Within reach and out of sight,
a contradiction, correct?
The inside being out
and the outsides consisting of you.
It is not like this enigma wrote itself
or thought itself into existence.
It was born at your request,
small words I doubt you can recall.
The beauty is you can gaze at this structure,
this attempt at meaning and find nothing.
Not even a realization that you bore this
all to fruition.
Words, sighs and angry screams.
Every last expression trapped
in an attempt at art.
Frustration builds at the moment
and realization of the surrounding cages.
Every bond and every relationship
a potential lie and the cage
of one paranoid and deluded in self.
It isn't just a simple note or riff,
it is more.
More than you can process or know right now.
If you looked close and saw it,
your hair would turn white
and you would die locked in an expression
betraying your absolute horror
at this creation,
this being made as me.
Is it hate?
The betrayal of self?
Or something simple,
like ignorance?
Dates, meaningless numbers
pile into the stream of life.
Days flow into one another
much like the water
spilled from heaven
onto your perfect white dress
and your trifled filled wedding day.
You aren't alone in this,
the one living in ignorance.
To point the finger blindly is one thing
but to realize how annoyingly true
I am is another point all together.
It isn't a choice I made either
because if I choose
it makes me responsible.
Not like you,
free to run into your life.
Free to run away,
free from burden,
free from responsibility
freed like your broken sexuality.
Like I said a free time
to point my fingers
and pretend I'm something else,
something special
and someone not choking to death
on my own stale hypocrisy.
Something that angers me beyond thought,
beyond reason
and beyond truth and convention
is the fact I have myself to blame.
I have this nihilistic tendency
to embrace truth and corrupt it,
wear as a badge and devour it,
just to be left with nothing.
Nothing that is something.
A mad leap from thought to thought
state of being to the next,
a redundant trip down this rabbit hole
a racing screaming train leaving the tracks
and breaking into reality.
It runs like this.
This steady heart beat of thought.
Empty at first.
But quickly races across the stage.
Figures and symbols cloud the page
as soon as the fingers press down
to acknowledge their existence.
It is a half life
that is a full lie.
Nothing could be further from any truth
that you lay claim to.
We are both tired and we weep.
Weep for joy, for fear and freedom.
We weep because we are afraid to live
and take this very next breath
for fear of our heart beat
and the fact the next pulse
could be the very last.
Time.
Constructed and flowing.
I do not know why I let this happen.
Let myself be pulled
instead of standing firm and pulling back.
It is almost sort of funny.
In a sickeningly real sort of way.
Something real but not.
Sort of poetic in a strange way.
Time consuming and flowing,
trapping you and me.
Uniting in ways
we fear to hate.
But true,
in ever sense of way.
Ebbing, pooling and stealing.
It is like I can feel the pulsating life
echoing around me
in this room
as if it were a cavern
or a chamber.
There is this feeling of disconcertion,
maybe something you know as being
something like disconcerting,
anxiety and the anxious one.
Reverberating screams echo in my head
just inside of here.
Within reach and out of sight,
a contradiction, correct?
The inside being out
and the outsides consisting of you.
It is not like this enigma wrote itself
or thought itself into existence.
It was born at your request,
small words I doubt you can recall.
The beauty is you can gaze at this structure,
this attempt at meaning and find nothing.
Not even a realization that you bore this
all to fruition.
Words, sighs and angry screams.
Every last expression trapped
in an attempt at art.
Frustration builds at the moment
and realization of the surrounding cages.
Every bond and every relationship
a potential lie and the cage
of one paranoid and deluded in self.
It isn't just a simple note or riff,
it is more.
More than you can process or know right now.
If you looked close and saw it,
your hair would turn white
and you would die locked in an expression
betraying your absolute horror
at this creation,
this being made as me.
Is it hate?
The betrayal of self?
Or something simple,
like ignorance?
Dates, meaningless numbers
pile into the stream of life.
Days flow into one another
much like the water
spilled from heaven
onto your perfect white dress
and your trifled filled wedding day.
You aren't alone in this,
the one living in ignorance.
To point the finger blindly is one thing
but to realize how annoyingly true
I am is another point all together.
It isn't a choice I made either
because if I choose
it makes me responsible.
Not like you,
free to run into your life.
Free to run away,
free from burden,
free from responsibility
freed like your broken sexuality.
Like I said a free time
to point my fingers
and pretend I'm something else,
something special
and someone not choking to death
on my own stale hypocrisy.
Something that angers me beyond thought,
beyond reason
and beyond truth and convention
is the fact I have myself to blame.
I have this nihilistic tendency
to embrace truth and corrupt it,
wear as a badge and devour it,
just to be left with nothing.
Nothing that is something.
A mad leap from thought to thought
state of being to the next,
a redundant trip down this rabbit hole
a racing screaming train leaving the tracks
and breaking into reality.
It runs like this.
This steady heart beat of thought.
Empty at first.
But quickly races across the stage.
Figures and symbols cloud the page
as soon as the fingers press down
to acknowledge their existence.
It is a half life
that is a full lie.
Nothing could be further from any truth
that you lay claim to.
We are both tired and we weep.
Weep for joy, for fear and freedom.
We weep because we are afraid to live
and take this very next breath
for fear of our heart beat
and the fact the next pulse
could be the very last.
Time.
Constructed and flowing.
I do not know why I let this happen.
Let myself be pulled
instead of standing firm and pulling back.
It is almost sort of funny.
In a sickeningly real sort of way.
Something real but not.
Sort of poetic in a strange way.
Time consuming and flowing,
trapping you and me.
Uniting in ways
we fear to hate.
But true,
in ever sense of way.
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
Saturday, September 20, 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.
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.
The only place I feel safe is my room but it acts like a prison cell, cutting me off from the rest of the world. But God, I can't handle much more contact with the people I know. I am feeling so stretched...like I am pulled to far apart...too many conflicts, pains and confusing sentiments.
I want to go home.
Beyond this desolate wasteland.
This cheap plasticland with no sense of real,
I'm so sick of this all.
I want to go home.
Beyond this desolate wasteland.
This cheap plasticland with no sense of real,
I'm so sick of this all.
Friday, September 19, 2008
I'm thinking you might not recall that morning...but I do. It was on the History channel and I almost died the night before. You gave me a bowl of cereal after I had a very long and rough night of not being able to sleep.
It's amazing how being treated like a human can be so humanizing...a reminder that it is okay to just be me...that all the thoughts I process are just thoughts and do not mean anything more then I allow for them to.
It's amazing how being treated like a human can be so humanizing...a reminder that it is okay to just be me...that all the thoughts I process are just thoughts and do not mean anything more then I allow for them to.
As A Matter of Fact
You ask for a why but herein there lies no reason.
You want to know me deeper
and feel that the reason is real.
I can't offer you anything but uncertainty,
a look at the masks I wear and the lies
forever tied around my neck,
millstones crashing into the dark deeps.
This is me,
the real me,
the me never seen.
You wouldn't know me if you could see,
could see me being him
and he staring as me.
The most sincere thing I can do is lie.
Because stories embody more truth
then anyone can bare.
It's not like you can breath underwater
or take my life for it's problem.
I want to be free,
run free,
escape from this constraint of life.
To not feel like every breath of my being
is just another lie and another burden,
something to be tolerated but never accepted
for me.
I can be me but you wouldn't know me,
you would never see me walk across your street.
You are just happy knowing this half life
because you are afraid to be disappointed in my humanity.
You want to know me deeper
and feel that the reason is real.
I can't offer you anything but uncertainty,
a look at the masks I wear and the lies
forever tied around my neck,
millstones crashing into the dark deeps.
This is me,
the real me,
the me never seen.
You wouldn't know me if you could see,
could see me being him
and he staring as me.
The most sincere thing I can do is lie.
Because stories embody more truth
then anyone can bare.
It's not like you can breath underwater
or take my life for it's problem.
I want to be free,
run free,
escape from this constraint of life.
To not feel like every breath of my being
is just another lie and another burden,
something to be tolerated but never accepted
for me.
I can be me but you wouldn't know me,
you would never see me walk across your street.
You are just happy knowing this half life
because you are afraid to be disappointed in my humanity.
Twelve (Mostly) Good Reasons To Vote for Cthulhu for President in 2008
My friends another election year is before us.
Republicans versus Democrats, liberals versus conservatives, ethnic groups versus ethnic groups, ninjas versus pirates, religious zealots versus those less inclined to use explosives as a negotiating tactic...and many more groups of well renown will waste countless millions of dollars on fundamentally pointless campaigns and debates all to bring us all to what is quite noticeably the "same darn thing term after term".
My friends, it is time for a change.
Instead of voting for the same tired politicians who are bound by being "all too human" I urge you to consider another choice.
A higher choice.
Consider...Cthulu.
1.Odds are you have trouble pronouncing his name too.
2.When you are an Elder God you do not have to worry about petty things such as being too old or too inexperienced to run for such a job as leader of the free world. Other requirements such as being patriotic,having a military record and in general being 'nice' tend go out the window as well.
3.There will not be much of a need to worry about the Pro-Life vs Pro-Choice debate because Cthulhu tends to lean quite heavily towards the Pro-Eradication of Everything stance, which turns out to negate the need for that particular sensitive argument.
4.Equality will no longer be an issue because all of humanity will be enslaved in the ever present darkness of horror that will sweep the globe.
5.Wall Street worries? Our new currency will run off of what I have been told will loosely be knows as "The Cries of The Eternally Tortured Damned That Reside Under His Most Unholy Tentacled Face's Throne".
Obviously it will have a higher exchange rate against the Euro.
6. The seal motto "e pluribus unum" is to be replaced with "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn".
How does one hope to ever compare the obviously inferior "Out of Many, One." to the eloquent beauty of "In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."
7.No more debates over whether or not America is a Christian nation. Mandatory copies of the Necronomicon ex Mortise will be shipped out to every household (Deadites not included).
8.I seriously doubt any terrorist group could be fundamentally idiotic enough to launch an attack under his lovingly desolate eyes of utterly nihilistic destruction.
9.Cthulhu couldn't blink in the face of danger if he wanted to.
10.Concerned about being Green? With his new "Eternally Scorched Earth Scorched Earth Wasteland" policy, there will no longer be a need for groups such as Greenpeace, PETA or Al Gore.
11.Sick of special interests groups and corruption scandals? Cthulu believes in equality for all citizens and will equally destroy both the loyal and unwilling of his servants.
12.Once you hear him speak no one is able to resist his call.
Republicans versus Democrats, liberals versus conservatives, ethnic groups versus ethnic groups, ninjas versus pirates, religious zealots versus those less inclined to use explosives as a negotiating tactic...and many more groups of well renown will waste countless millions of dollars on fundamentally pointless campaigns and debates all to bring us all to what is quite noticeably the "same darn thing term after term".
My friends, it is time for a change.
Instead of voting for the same tired politicians who are bound by being "all too human" I urge you to consider another choice.
A higher choice.
Consider...Cthulu.
1.Odds are you have trouble pronouncing his name too.
2.When you are an Elder God you do not have to worry about petty things such as being too old or too inexperienced to run for such a job as leader of the free world. Other requirements such as being patriotic,having a military record and in general being 'nice' tend go out the window as well.
3.There will not be much of a need to worry about the Pro-Life vs Pro-Choice debate because Cthulhu tends to lean quite heavily towards the Pro-Eradication of Everything stance, which turns out to negate the need for that particular sensitive argument.
4.Equality will no longer be an issue because all of humanity will be enslaved in the ever present darkness of horror that will sweep the globe.
5.Wall Street worries? Our new currency will run off of what I have been told will loosely be knows as "The Cries of The Eternally Tortured Damned That Reside Under His Most Unholy Tentacled Face's Throne".
Obviously it will have a higher exchange rate against the Euro.
6. The seal motto "e pluribus unum" is to be replaced with "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn".
How does one hope to ever compare the obviously inferior "Out of Many, One." to the eloquent beauty of "In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming."
7.No more debates over whether or not America is a Christian nation. Mandatory copies of the Necronomicon ex Mortise will be shipped out to every household (Deadites not included).
8.I seriously doubt any terrorist group could be fundamentally idiotic enough to launch an attack under his lovingly desolate eyes of utterly nihilistic destruction.
9.Cthulhu couldn't blink in the face of danger if he wanted to.
10.Concerned about being Green? With his new "Eternally Scorched Earth Scorched Earth Wasteland" policy, there will no longer be a need for groups such as Greenpeace, PETA or Al Gore.
11.Sick of special interests groups and corruption scandals? Cthulu believes in equality for all citizens and will equally destroy both the loyal and unwilling of his servants.
12.Once you hear him speak no one is able to resist his call.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
I hate my sexuality, my emotions, my mental state, my weakness, my fear, my loves, my lusts, my desires, my weaknesses, my being, myself, my core, my central thought, my spirit, my intellect and my philosophy.
So much wrong and yet there is so much left that has potential and could be right.
Could be.
So very close.
So much wrong and yet there is so much left that has potential and could be right.
Could be.
So very close.
I'm still in literal fear for my life...even though it was on Monday...or Tuesday...or something. I can't even remember all that well. This week has just been a medicated haze...if I didn't need the pills for control of the nausea and pain then I would have never taken them. I'm out of antidepressants and I'm much to freaked out to back to the psychiatrist.
It is a weird place to be...it feels like I'm almost dead and almost alive...this gray place between light and dark. There is a weird contradiction in me being here, being alive, feeling, thinking, processing when there is so much...anti-life...so much death at every possible intersection and corner of life.
It isn't dramatic when you stop to think that every word is a symbol and has meaning only in proper context and enunciation...it is a construct we invented to keep our sanity, just like time. We lord our man made constructions as being God like in order for us to hurt and press down on those we deem inferior.
Not being able to pronounce every word correctly, making spelling and grammatical errors...yeah, that makes you such a big shot. Makes me look ignorant and stupid, shows me as being the genetic mistake that I am.
Every ounce of academic knowledge you so desperately cling to...as if it were some grand and impervious defense...as much as you like to pretend you are something special, somehow bigger and better...you are absolutely nothing.
My memories, my pain, my emotions are something tangible. My experiences with the other is something tangible. Maybe not to you or to others but it is something.
Every last tear I have cried, every shred of my innocence ripped from my being, every last inch of my sanity that I have lost in this fight...all of them are real. Real as the grave markers that show where my dead family lay.
It is a weird place to be...it feels like I'm almost dead and almost alive...this gray place between light and dark. There is a weird contradiction in me being here, being alive, feeling, thinking, processing when there is so much...anti-life...so much death at every possible intersection and corner of life.
It isn't dramatic when you stop to think that every word is a symbol and has meaning only in proper context and enunciation...it is a construct we invented to keep our sanity, just like time. We lord our man made constructions as being God like in order for us to hurt and press down on those we deem inferior.
Not being able to pronounce every word correctly, making spelling and grammatical errors...yeah, that makes you such a big shot. Makes me look ignorant and stupid, shows me as being the genetic mistake that I am.
Every ounce of academic knowledge you so desperately cling to...as if it were some grand and impervious defense...as much as you like to pretend you are something special, somehow bigger and better...you are absolutely nothing.
My memories, my pain, my emotions are something tangible. My experiences with the other is something tangible. Maybe not to you or to others but it is something.
Every last tear I have cried, every shred of my innocence ripped from my being, every last inch of my sanity that I have lost in this fight...all of them are real. Real as the grave markers that show where my dead family lay.
I'm reminded of any and everything.
The things you are, the words you have said.
Everything.
Fleeting words in the air. The smell of decay. The rampant self thought.
It all has basis in images, metaphors and the lack of communication.
Walls.
I mean, getting past the crappy prose and poetry, realize none of this has any relevancy.
The point exists far beyond your ability to comprehend that you do not understand your lack of ability to understand.
Every last metaphorical romp is at best half guessed at worse nothing less then the grand total of nothing.
At the same time, this is a stirring deep within me.
Far beyond these desolate dunes and forsaken deserts is a hope for eternity.
Beyond this pain, this malfunctioning machine posing as a human, there is a soul whose heart beats will move into eternity.
Nothing fleeting will be eternal but this hope of my heart is something beyond any comprehension.
The broken body and collection of blood was enough to redeem an unfathomable mass, if so then I know I am not above redemption. That only my pride needs to die that I may find myself truly alive.
The things you are, the words you have said.
Everything.
Fleeting words in the air. The smell of decay. The rampant self thought.
It all has basis in images, metaphors and the lack of communication.
Walls.
I mean, getting past the crappy prose and poetry, realize none of this has any relevancy.
The point exists far beyond your ability to comprehend that you do not understand your lack of ability to understand.
Every last metaphorical romp is at best half guessed at worse nothing less then the grand total of nothing.
At the same time, this is a stirring deep within me.
Far beyond these desolate dunes and forsaken deserts is a hope for eternity.
Beyond this pain, this malfunctioning machine posing as a human, there is a soul whose heart beats will move into eternity.
Nothing fleeting will be eternal but this hope of my heart is something beyond any comprehension.
The broken body and collection of blood was enough to redeem an unfathomable mass, if so then I know I am not above redemption. That only my pride needs to die that I may find myself truly alive.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Busy with speaking with a tongue of fire,
I don't take the time to watch the world around me
and seem almost surprised to see things burning.
I don't even know when to shut my mouth
and could care less that I'm killing others.
The only time my soul feels is in the pain.
I only hear when I stop and stand still and hold my heart in my hand.
The sins of my past are a mountain,
a burning pyre putrid with the smell of ego
and self worship.
I don't take the time to watch the world around me
and seem almost surprised to see things burning.
I don't even know when to shut my mouth
and could care less that I'm killing others.
The only time my soul feels is in the pain.
I only hear when I stop and stand still and hold my heart in my hand.
The sins of my past are a mountain,
a burning pyre putrid with the smell of ego
and self worship.
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