Sunday, February 26, 2012

Sunday, February 26, 2012; Hidden

Can't you see this? I'm burning. Thoughts have been folded over & over & over again & then hidden in between my ribs & throughout the columns of my spine. I'm overloaded with annoyances, thoughts, desires, & constraints. Constraints, dear God, constraints! My wrists are tied together behind my back. I'm wandering mindlessly back & fourth throughout this darkened room looking for a knife to cut the rope. But relations are hard to find. Surprises never come by. Routine is all I've got. I can't scream aloud for help because if even my whispers are heard, I'm dead. Death to the one who questions faith! May they burn in hell or freeze in the loneliest corners of the cosmos. So here I am, drifting alone in shallow waters. Wallowing in questions. Believing in disbelief because relations are hard to find. Surprises never come by & routine is all I've got. 
Their words are despicable, a mockery to their own crowns. "I'm atop the world," they say without realizing their heads are buried beneath the ground. They are foolish, a mockery to their own crowns.
What good is your foundation if you know nothing of it? "You are blind. You are blind! You are blind! Pick up the hammer & smash your own skull in because it possess no wealth to neither I, nor anyone else for that matter."
"The answers lie in the shadows. Go find them."

Friday, February 24, 2012

Friday, February 24, 2012; Echos

Thin strands of light slipped through the curtains & crept beneath her eye lids to awaken her. She found it quite sincere of the sun to remember to rise before her alarm clock silenced her sleep. Hours toil by but still not a cry in the world could lift her limbs from the mattress that lie on the floor. 
Crumpled newsprint & ideas surround the space in which embodies her; her memories have been written on trash.The seconds in which she can remember are the only things that hold any worth. The world has spoiled her dreams & killed her faith; only nostalgia remains. She drowns in darkness beneath the busy feet of the world. But she misses sincerity more than she misses connection. A stranger's smile could bring her more satisfaction than a reunion of a ten year friendship rekindled. & as much as she craves the crisp movements of the wind she doesn't dare set foot out the front door. 
"The world is a menace," she keeps telling herself. Words etched into her heart. Not the loveliest spring day could convince her of any different. Her own stubbornness has locked her away, a diamond locked in a safe. Gaining value with each passing day, never realizing the potential in which she holds within her own two hands.
Hiding, unknown, never a thought goes her way. The days seem to blur, never a significant moment to recall. New stories are nonexistent, she is trapped within the curse of repetitionThough breathing & living within simplicity, she is making the least. Although graced with a live to live, she is caught in between uncertainty & callousness. She's a creator, but she's created her own darkened world within her mind. Time goes on, she's still alive but dead to herself, who's screaming inside.   

Thursday, February 23, 2012

Thursday, February 23, 2012; Cremation

Soft rampant symphonies guide her through ominous alleyways, lifting fear with melodies of serenity and flagrancy. Apparitions fade as steps hasten. Darkness eludes as each note pounds against her eardrums. The dirge grows softer but not a muscle stiffens. She is free. 

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Tuesday, February 21, 2012; Restocking

Sinking solemnly into a realm where dwellers believe that the company is more than boring. The tea has gone cold, crumpets old & stale. Nothing left to give but misery & disappointment to the ones who's hearts are thirsty for self-sacrifice. Ingredients from the cupboard have gone missing, stolen by the ungrateful & neurotic. Only untouched ideals remain pushed back into the corners of the highest shelves. Things that I'd like to save for the appreciative & deserving, if only worthy by my own standards. A feast, so to say, for the loving & unloved.
Tall tales dance around seclusion that one may take part in. Disease & disasters, selfishness & meaningless ties.
Break me. Mangle my organs if that's what you desire. My heart is locked in a box away from the carnivorous clamor. My intentions unknown since the day I found it within myself to say, "Hello." But now darkened, stiffened, shut off.
Please, dim the lights & softly shut the door when you notice my eyes have grown weak & I can no longer breathe sufficiently 
anymore. Or perhaps, stop staring at me as if you've lost your sight. As if, I'm no longer who I once was or who you thought I was. I am filled with petty imperfections; I am a human being. Falling & tripping on every stone that blocks the path in front me, in front of you.
Months ago, I decided to take a rest & catch my breath. Retrace the steps to which I've gotten myself here. Rethink the lies that have been etched into my arms. Relive explosions trapped in my memories from so many years ago. Fix the damages. Discover something more than movie marathons & expeditions throughout the town. Consume truth & beauty as if it were water falling from the sky. But humanity won't leave me & once I sniff a hint of it's presence I'm addicted to the social construct of company. Mediocre as well as overwhelming. Unneeded but there always.

Monday, February 20, 2012

Monday, February 20, 2012; Magnificence

Patience doesn't seem to exist any more. Only enthusiasm at the point in time when an idea is created or a plan made seems to be visible. Once time dribbles in by forceful currents, heads are screwed back on according to the current circumstance. Everything else is forgotten; it sinks to the bottom of the sewers.
Rare but possible, thoughts float back up to the brim of our existence but never as wholesome as that first starting point. Moments can't last more than a few seconds & then our attention is bombarded by the filthy habits of this world. Words meant for every human being go unheard. Art is thrown away each & every hour.
It makes me wonder, how can we be so selfish, to hide these visions at the bottom of our pitiful hearts? Our imaginations can be transformed into a work of art, but most don't have the attention span to illustrate that dream.  Left with a feeling of uneasiness we must forget our passions & do the work that we signed up with our first breath of air. That is what society's deemed life to be about & I suppose that's how we must live it. Still, true suffering is disappearing. It is consumed with the tip of a glass & a good three hours of staring into a television. Where are the martyrs? The outcasts? The lovers? The ones who will die for for their beliefs, ideas, plans, visions, dreams? My sight only allows me to see people who only die to themselves & live by the majority's laws. Chip away the wallpaper & rip out your backbone. Ideals have been hidden between the cracks of this obsolete infrastructure. I'm not saying scream anarchy at the top of your lungs. I'm asking you people to not compromise yourself or what's right. Why does that seem to be so hard nowadays? Everything goes wasted within a human being who slaves away for this society. Time's lost & as are countless masterpieces. Our parents drown us at the point of birth in hope a brilliant memory may be lost. Substances are gods in the feeble minds of today's youth. Strobe lights are the rising sun & cigarettes are a breath of fresh air.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Sunday, February 19, 2012; Trapped

A level of intensity can be felt in the smooth tips of my fingers or upon the sharp edge of my tongue. Today, my thoughts have left me fearless; my words, powerful. An abundance of smiles & characteristic longings leave me happy. Stinging poison still floats within my veins but an immunity has been gained through insight from an unknown source. A lesson learned with the viewing of time I suppose. Assumptions crushed with every new sunrise.
A sterling star may dance light years away but we'll never view such a thing. Our eyes remain blinded between crashes & broad empty spaces of false love & presumptions. Sheer lies hold us together. Lies lead to treadmills & tripping upon laces. These are just daily examples from each of our lives. Daring to bold but only failing in the end.
If a second seeps through the crack, let that be a blessing & if your voice be heard by somebody, sing through the tyranny. There's hope in a raindrop & love in this storm. There is no indifference.

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Thursday, February 16, 2012; Subtle Art

As of late, I've felt a loss of appetite & a gain of weight. Subtly, my mood has transgressed into a sort of bewildering coma. Darkened, quiet, & of absolute unimportance. More or less, I simply would just like to lay in my bed all hours of the day.
Apathy has fallen but my spirits still fly high; only motivation has fled. The odd thing of it all, it is still there. Basking one minute & then hiding the next.
I'm confused by the things that surround me & myself. If I cannot understand myself, then can I understand anything? I waste so much time pondering instead of actually searching for keys. By the time I figure something of little significance out, they've locked the door and walked off. I'm not afraid to scream truth at the top of my lungs; I no longer feel capable or able to do so. The only thing that holds me back is my own being.
Mysteriousness is fading with each & every discovery I'm trying very very hard to figure out. Although trying hard, all my focus seems to turn into a haze with simple follies. More chains are attached with each glance towards the ground or towards careless people. My heart is wasted with each unnoticed endeavor, but that's just selfish implications in the end. (& if you allowed me to define selfishness, I would define this as the wrong worldly version of it.)
It's despicable of me to give into things that I hate. Here, we are back to the part where we realize this is all my fault. "I did all of this to myself" sort of thing. Slowly dwindling away my own integrity like I enjoy losing bits and pieces of an entire working organism. Ripping off organs, breaking bones, teeth rotten; fallen out.
My soul is a vicarious monstrosity.
Before the title credits stream at the end of this game I will leave with the notion that I believe that I can fix this broken heap of scrap metal.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Tuesday, February 14, 2012; Catastrophe

Mon Petit Chou- Five months, roughly half a year. That honestly seems so small compared to the four years to which we've actually known each other. It's almost an insignificant number to such an able bond. Look at how far we've come; imagine how far we'll go. 
As you say, "We are impossible."
I tend to be tacky when I find things unneeded, but with that besides the point, I can never doubt that I'm in love. That's a set fact within my state of mind. 
Valentines Day is just so cliche. I even feel cliche for saying that because so many people despise this holiday simply depending on if they have someone to hold their hand. Well, I have someone to hold my hand & I still do not like it. I wish I did. I wish that I could enjoy the simple things that some seem to like, but I can't. Their existence torments me.
I do not like the idea of anniversaries, holidays, birthdays, etc. Why do we put so my effort to make one day special yet it always turns out stressful? Why can't we put out a little extra effort each and every day to make it just a little special, to allow the people whom surround us to know that they are loved. No expectations, no stress, just simple unconditional love.
But it's not that simple when we live in a world of apathy. The people who celebrate these petty holidays are the people who are scared of fulfillment. Their philosophy lies in the hearts of the people around them, their counties, their diamond earrings.
Everything that I have ever planned in attempt to open up these peoples' eyes, I never set out and actually did. The strangers in which I wanted to meet never heard my name or saw my smile due to my own apathetic mindset. Within the past year I've forgotten the one thing that lacks within these dreadful days. I hope things shall be different. Things can change, because things get better I suppose.  But today will be different. I will smile at the awkward, & invade the shy, shake hands with the intimidating, & shock the blind. If I am to celebrate such a fucked up tradition, I shall do it on my own terms.
So my lover, here's to you, & every other stranger, here's to you also.

Saturday, February 11, 2012

Saturday, February 11, 2012; Canterberry

Trapped within the barriers of my own mind, I find it difficult to speak. Most of my words seem unneeded to be heard by these careless people. & if I were to explain, would they even listen to hear the bulk of it, or simply the gist of it? I don't want someone to simply listen. I want someone to understand.
No one seems to understand how seeing a little boy run around an auditorium can break my heart. Or the emails that I've gotten from my mother. Or to see my step-father in the grocery store. Or any man that resembles him.
No one seems to understand that I can't comprehend the act of selfless kindness in abundance. But I crave it.
No one seems to understand how fragile of a skull I carry atop my head. My thoughts can be shattered by any one action. My dreams, hopes, love, gone.
The people around me, the ones I no longer speak to, are my chains. They bound my fears unspoken; burry my devotions deep within the oceans. I am wrapped around their fingers as they are wrapped around mine. Our hands clasped.
What pains me, is when I hear or see how they're doing & it's not okay. When will a single human being feel okay for more than twenty minutes. (or am I just applying that to myself?)
Or when they lie to themselves.
In my fragility, I must force strength or I am going to turn into someone that I was never meant to be.
After last night, I can honestly say I’ve gained the power within myself to no longer care. It’s a waste of time and heart to care.
So long people of today.

Thursday, February 9, 2012

Thursday, February 9, 2012; Out of Step

Malleable ideas are easier to idolize; materials that allow you to move your bones and stretch your muscles are easier to obsess over. But ideas of the mind, the ones that stay up in the air, things you cannot grab no matter how high you reach or jump, are slowly fading.
Simplicity is now harder to achieve, beliefs are simply follies trampled with ease, convictions are so to say, non-existent. The mind is no longer careful, but careless.
God, poetry, danger, freedom, goodness, sin.
It's all disappearing into a mirage of comfort. & here I am, paraphrasing Brave New World, but that's where we're headed. A work of fiction can transcend into a warning.
Substance, substance, substance, substance, substance!
We're now afraid of thoughts. Fear of intelligence, ideas, emotions; Fear of love.
The thrills of life will never be enough, not anymore. We're searching for a pleasure that could be achieved without the help of an exterior enabler. Work ethics have been lost. Patience is no where to be found. Achievements are rare.
But drugs are inexpensive, & easy to find.
& it's only going to get worse.
In a country, that's built on corruption, your head should be clear & your eyes open. You shouldn't have leisure time to drink during all hours of free time. You should be ready to fight. You should already be fighting. If not outside the system, then within it.
If you don't see something wrong, you're eyes are closed. Not just within the government systems but within the minds of your families and friends. Within the streets of the cities, the grocery stores, the lakes, the surrounding states, countries, continents.
As selfish as we are, there's no doubt that we are the cause to our pain & suffering. If a difference were what one really wanted, they'd make that happen. Even the slightest difference.
I am about to make the slightest difference.
As of today, I am now of out of step with the world.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

Tuesday, February, 7, 2012; Thirteen Doubts

The people of today blindly go about their days without minding precautions warned to them over and over and over again. Though completely awake, it's as if the people of today sleep walk through the streets. A loud crash might wake them, or a death. Perhaps, two? It'd be appreciated if one could widen their perspective for more than the time allotted. To breathe, for more than five minutes. But no matter how loud I scream, "WAKE UP." The ones who hear let the words drift in out of their hollow skulls. My words make me an enemy, assured as a terrorist at best to society's addictions.
So I stopped trying. My ambitions were crushed by the ignorance of others and my inability to slowly bring up ideas to help for the better. Now, each second is spent in thought, in utter hate and disgust. Each individual idea, gone to waste, trapped in my mind. Because, no one understands, and some think it appropriate this way.
It's not.
We're digging our own personal hell. Each and everyone with their own grave, that's soon to come once the cycles end.
Souls wasted, memories damaged, bodies burned, ideas converged.
But, my judgmental frame makes me no better than the rest.
& when times decides to reveal the truth, we'll discover who's right and who's wrong.
& when the world concludes to swallow us all, we'll have nothing else to do but let it.

That's the song we sing, to help us through the night; when ideas emerge that remain unheard of the masses who don't give a damn about the definition of right. & once sanity turns within in the person who thinks, we cast them out without a thought leaving them alone and incapable. But when a brain-dead being smirks in delight, all we do is agree.

Sunday, February 5, 2012

Sunday, February, 5, 2012; Short-handled Shovels

Despite my entire body being sore, despite I must redefine my illusions of home, and despite that I have to watch church on television in about an hour, I am incredibly happy and extraordinarily cheerful. I haven't felt as so in a very long time.
It's been less than twenty-four hours and tension is easing; I'm starting to feel okay.
Let's hope such a peace can last for more than two days. If it does, then perhaps I'll be able to complete a thought, or a song, or a book, or be able to accomplish something besides laying within the comforter on my bed.  
As short as this might be; this is all my thought process contains. Cheers.

Wednesday, February 1, 2012

Wednesday, February 1, 2012; Calling Mothra

"Good morning to you!" That is something I'd like to hear directed my way each morning. A sort of human companionship that's stronger than the bond that you have with strangers in the street or with the people in my home for that matter. Someone to care about if whether your dreams were pleasant or not, to hold you if they were filled with demons, gore, hurricanes, or a giant fucking moth picking up your house and dropping it into the Pacific ocean. But where are you my mysterious sincere human? Can the closest living being to me really be my immature blood-hungry kitten? I don't know, we'll just leave it at that. At least I've got a bed to dream my nightmares in.
Today, mostly, was like other days. Always contemplating the reasons to why I'm here, to why I deserve to be here. To thrive on this planet of rubble. Most of the time, it points to the same answer; some clay maker decided to spend eight hours molding my body together. I lack evidence for the latter because I'm only searching one specific side of things. & because I'm not taking advantage of all the information around me, none of my questions are being answered. Without the lack of insight from someone with the same views as me, my questions are slowly being forgotten. My heart is being filled to the brim with wishful thoughts. Oh, how I wish that one were to care about the things I care about! I feel that they may not look into things in fear they could be proven wrong. That's only an assumption though.
There's nothing wrong with the truth, and I wish the people who surround me could realize this.
I think the days are getting longer as my life gets shorter. Conversations with others don't seem to matter as much to me. Most words that escape peoples' mouth are meaningless. Always talking about the people around them or what they had for breakfast, or the fucking weather. I am not an exception to this but I feel as though that time wasted on such things is unneeded. I don't entirely know why I allow myself to associate with such misconceptions.
Do you know what I completely despise? I despise living my life in utter confusion. The truth has always been foggy but I wish that I could at least predict the vague happenings of tomorrow.
Or next week. But moods rule my demeanor. And words captivate my life. The hardships of others plan out my day. I hope this is to change in due time (Sunday) but if it doesn't, then I suppose I'll always be confused and conflicted. I'll always be contemplating redundant ideas because I cannot get a moment of silence to complete a single thought.