Guiltless in the veneration
Distracted by adoration
How quickly it slips all away
Neglected responsibilities in the fray
“How great it is to have” you said
Hugging each other before the dead
Taking for granted such a blessed gift
Yet all the while the maintenance drifts
Blissfully blind and deaf ears turned
Enabling and getting them burned
Your brood and priceless treasures
Dominated by Earth’s dark pleasures
I’d apologize at how hard it will all be
If you would wield the tools of honesty
It Lies Within
I feel myself rotting
My emotions buried within mold
And decomposing into physical hurt
My reluctance to tell
And reveal my thoughts to the world
Result in this agony
I writhe with my lack of outlet
And constant force of more in the bottle
And suffer eternally until I explode
And release my thoughts into the world
The void we call home
Where no one is honest
Everyone is hiding something
Nothing changes out minds
Everything controls us, but we
Nobody really thinks outside the box
Because we are all trapped inside
By intangibles: morals, love, and others
The forces that make life flow
Around us in a case, not easily broken
If and when we break this cage
By violating a thread: morals, loves, or life itself
Is when we escape into the void
Where spirits roam, and devils and angels sing
Love & Light
When what you want
Is to be truly happy
And how you feel
Is like you’re wandering
It Is utterly dependent
On your own self
To make the best for you
How can two
Totally different bodies
Come together as one
In a world so torn
Without united desires
To make together what can be
Achieved Independently
<3
Thou shall not erase
What I mean to say is that no matter how many Cs you bubble in in a row, the testmaker could just be simply messing with your mind. It’s not that love is unpredictable or even multiple choice… it just sometimes seems to be an easier explanation. The truth is always whatever you want it to be. Life is giving meaning by the decisions we make. The same advice can be worded a million different ways, but the meaning is still sound:
It is easier to make a decision now than it is to change your mind in the past.
If I could go back to before you died and tell you I love you, and I really mean it, would it make it easier to sleep tonight? Chances are no. Call me a mystic, but I believe that somehow you know I love you even when I don’t say it. Maybe you don’t know exactly how much, but I think it’s precisely as much as you guess I do. The trouble is why is it so damn hard to say these things?
I just want to remind you how beautiful you are, and how much I love you, before we forget.
Once there is nothing left to gather
The sowing does not immediately begin again
Everything we’ve prepared for must follow our design
Deliverance comes but between each harvest
If even the best laid plans sour
Who provides us when we’re at a loss?
The measure from survival to comfort
Tastes like a reward for something…
If hard work doesn’t pay off
And the slanderous are rewarded
What benevolent eye is privy to it?
Where are the footprints in our muck?
The consequences of inaction
Reap heavily at the soul
An anxious hostility ignites
And passes but with a puff of air
When we are lost, we look to the familiar
When we starve, we hold back energy
When we go blind, we smile inside
But the sage told me, ‘Love is blind’
The revolution is loving-
-Love the revolting
❤
Sometimes you have to go back in order to go forward.
This makes more sense than it feels against the tongue when uttered. We’re born in the middle of a fantastic world with a rich history and an endless future. Our ability to make progress comes only from our manipulation of previous ideas in combinations never tried before. We can look for errors in previous tests or respect their inconclusiveness. Sometimes when an idea is born the tools that create it need to be made first.
Time is linear. There is no turning back. But life isn’t a time, it’s a path. When we arrive at dead-ends we backtrack. When we make a choice we pause and consider where each decision leads us. Despite all this, I do not think life is about who lives the longest, or who goes the furthest on their path. Perhaps one measure of a man is the distance on the path over the length of time lived, but life has no measure.
I can see the crossroads in front of me, but I don’t know what leads where yet. When I get there, I’ll go confidently. There are no wrong choices. I have just grown so envious of a life I don’t have yet. The empty cup of mine has a stain; Refusing to wash it, it can only be filled with the same.
Though along on the journey I stopped on the way
Fields of relentlessness had grown in isolation
Yet my travel was one of certainty, painstaking, slow
At the end I’ll look back at when I found myself
Complementary colors-and fowl looming overhead-
I contemplated the earth between my finger and thumb
Old depressed soil worn with strife reflect a stranger
I remember everything except what I was
Keeping an air of personal musings
Ripping through time like a Christmas present
Still in belief life is a game I’m losing
In time the air enveloped the present
Weep not for the trace of an old shoe
What’s worn is worn and unfashionable today
The forgotten game is the fool’s runaway
Where challenges are not sought, but evaded
Errantly beguiled by forgotten touch
I quest forth to bring back resolve
Once lain traps and constructed walls
Now arrow points and musket balls
To fall into old roles plays me off right
Once a shadow unhinged from a contemplative heel
Now grows twice as fast in the afternoon
Never, never giving up on what is important of life
Dream like a child, these adult dreams
Settle for nothing less than the best
Sacrifice everything so that one day
A less bumpy road is in your wake
And when I look up and see time descending upon my heart
I’ll cast aside this limited reality
For a substitute of my own
Where past dejections and human shortcomings don’t reach
But where would I be now
If this life shaped me another way
Could I have this love
If this love couldn’t contain me
When you’ve walked so far
Everyone becomes a stranger
At last when broken and fallen
You welcome the abyss
Torn between le petit corporal and la soldato
Is a merriment for me to watch
One hand holds me back
The other pulls me so deeply in love with you.
Anywhere I go, I’ll meet you on the other side.
It was but an addiction so sweet
That I could taste it instantly
What sacrifice it is to willingly take
That which might mar me forever
As if breathing the air that brushed against her skin
Carried a tattoo that embossed my face
I stray from dependencies because they tax
Yet this one I cannot afford to live without
I can remember when I tasted this before
Despite having suppressed what I assumed forgotten
And could therefore not have known
How its absence has made me feel
What treachery they spouted to me
It is in fact reunion that makes the heart grow fonder
And this is why I hesitated to address you in the eyes
I feared losing my composure would have been complemented
I thought I was growing, here, alone
Yet the zeal I felt, the joy
At the possibility of your arrival
And the sigh which corked the same at your exit showed me hollow
If before my shell was thick and constricted
Imagine how you burst me from within
Now inflated, stretched and vacuous
I dare you to make my cup run over
For, be forewarned, if I knew your taste again
I’d be reluctant to open
My eyes or arms again.
2 doors down from ol' Franky boy
There has been a death in the family. I’ll use that as my excuse for slacking off.
Instead of merely slacking off, I find myself wiking off. I recently learned about the distinction between barred and unbarred spiral galaxies from clicking on a candy bar disambiguation page.
This line of thinking got me to a fantastic place… reading self-help pages for only problems i don’t have. I strongly recommend it. I also recommend spelling recommend with only one “c.” I also do not recommend picking up American English grammar rules like putting punctuation inside the quotes despite ambiguity. Continue reading
Dear _______,
I don’t have much time. I can only hope my words reach you before it is too late. There was a moment in this tangled time that you were almost close enough to touch, and now the curls bring their backs together again. I want you to remember that you still have a choice. There is a place where the corridors are long and narrow, but dark and demented. Love here is an excuse to hate, and this hate brings isolation. Everywhere you go, no matter what you think is right, never succumb. You were always more comfortable as one above the herd. How is it possible to give yourself to the world if you sacrifice yourself to disappear into it? I’m sorry, there’s nothing more I can do from here. I hope that when we meet again, it is crest to crest.
Love forever,
_______
Wrecked 'em? Damn near killed 'em! 