Finale.

I'll admit when I was younger I was a lot more arrogant and I had no idea what the full scope of God meant. So for awhile there I guess I qualified as what we'd call an atheist. I won't go into all of the details, just the gist. I was selfish and prideful and of others I wasn't very mindful. It sounds arrogant to say, but I was too smart and just got in my own way. I was still kind of awkward and nerdy, but I learned how to hide it and settled down into mild popularity. Not nearly the coolest guy in school, and I didn't look all that great at the pool, that's a body issue joke if you don't get it, don't worry I just thought I should fill you in a bit. I had a small group of friends like I always did and behind this cocky bravado I hid. Anything you see today is a shell meant to keep up appearances but back then it was a lot of who I really was. This undeservedly self-centered narcissistic mess of a man, the type of person you never want to be again. It didn't take much get me back on track, just one good reality check. In the middle of pompous act and inflated head I received a call telling me my grandpa was dead. Needless to say, I sunk pretty quick in an almost violent way. I went from laugh and smiles, to travelling hundreds of miles. A few hundred miles in a somber airplane stuck in a melancholy that didn't wane. It's hard to explain my feelings at that time, maybe because at that time I had absolutely zero thoughts running through my mind. Fast forward a few weeks ahead, when the funeral was over and I regretfully accepted the fact he was dead. Most people in times of crisis throw their hands up in the air and ask "God how could you do this?" I was too numb to ask why and the answer I probably couldn't comprehend, but as I've learned now his plans work out in the end. I started attending more Christian events, but never really listened to the message. It still seemed so artificial and I never thought I'd have that moment where you feel breathless. I don't remember the date, but I remember the sensation, knees shaking so hard with trepidation. I didn't understand what was going on, but for some reason the trembling felt everything but wrong. I broke down on the spot, flooded by the images of who I'd been and the messages from my grandpa I'd forgot. I recommitted then and several times afterwards because I always felt I'd come up short and could never apologize with words. I felt compelled to continually recommit until something in my mind would finally stick. It's starting to stick now and I thank you all for your patience, this ride has been intense. The most exciting part is that it's not done yet, God has even more in store I bet.

Uh...Yeah

I've kind of run out of things to say, but it was bound to happen writing every single day. All that typing can be tough on the brain, and constrain rhyming is such a pain. This is a lot harder than it looks really, I mean by now my rhymes are just silly. Words pulled randomly out of a thesaurus trying to find something that works with that and this. Seriously did you just read that last line? I'm pulling things out of thin air and I think I'm going out of my mind. Oh Lord, please help me I think I'm losing it. Can I please just take a break for a bit? No? Oh...Well I guess I have to keep going but it looks like my pace is dangerously slowing. Not quite sure I'm going to be able to keep up the writing, or at least keep up the quality seems to be satisfying. I don't know why, but I guess people like it. That's hard to imagine when I'm trying to get inspiration out of clouds in the sky. Maybe I can write something about a cute little bunny, oh would that just be so adorably funny? No, no that just won't do....Oh God what am I supposed to do? People think it's easy being a writer, just sit down and start typing, well you couldn't be wronger. Yes I know, wronger isn't a word, this isn't my first trip around the block or haven't you heard? Well I guess it'd be more of "haven't you seen?" anyways just scroll down and look at your computer or phone screen. I've been writing a lot lately, but the rhyming is getting a bit more crazy. So that was a long explanation you and I probably lost you back there so let's start over, I just wanted to justify saying wronger. And OK so we aren't starting over, more just getting back on point, but arguing over these semantics is really beside the point. Now I'm just rambling I think I lost the point I was trying to make, oh well there's nothing really at stake. Just know if you know a writer or poet they work harder than you think. Well, I think I'll just end here, this piece kind of stinks.

Smiling in Sadness

I was driving alone in my car, with the music up I looked at my arm and could visualize the scars. I've never gone so far as to actually draw blood, but I can see all the tally marks working against the good. They count up my mistakes and transgressions, continuing on without regression. Every lie I've told, every friend I've mislead are burned into my mind and will be till I'm old and dead. It's this that pushes me so close to the edge, suicide seems like the only way to escape the things in my own head. I've talked about these demons before, but I really don't think people know how close I am to knocking on that door. Maybe I've perfected that smile that tells everyone I'm just fine, maybe I've built up a big enough wall to finally hide behind. Or maybe people just don't care...I know saying that doesn't sound fair, but think about it from my position if you dare. Imagine watching friends talk about things without you, and there's nothing you can do. No one takes the time to know you, so you just hide it all away as if you some how knew. Somehow knew no one would dare get close to the kid who's constantly thinking in prose. Living a life built of different faces and facades, praying to God you remembered to put the right one on. Am I supposed to be witty with her or sarcastic with him? I'm never quite sure, never quite sure who I am supposed to be because I've never been able to fully define me. I wanted so desperately to fit in, I created multiple me's so which one's the real me? I don't know where to even begin. So the scars on my arm pile up fast because I constantly forget which role I'm cast. I think the main problem is that I've committed too much time to loving everyone else, which sounds nice but I've left none for myself. I'm a constant well of self-pity and hate and nothing that I ever do will be that great. I could win an Oscar or Pulitzer prize, but none of that ever give me the satisfaction of being fully satisfied. For me life isn't about money or accolades, with all this self-hate I could never even accept the praise. I simply want to live life a full and free, finally about to find out who is me. That'll never happen though, I harbor these thoughts of quiet suicide that never seem to go. I even display my feelings right out here in the open, somebody is surely there to help...at least that's what I'm hoping. Sometimes I do wonder how long with the pain linger if I was to up and go? Would anyone even let it show? In the grand scheme of things my life, and even yours, are so inconsequential we might as make our exit a show. Something to be remembered and felt, for better or worse, but these are all just thoughts of course. I'd never do anything, just have sobering thoughts once and awhile, but I'll be all right....just trust the smile.

Choices

Life is always full of choices and when it comes to decisions you can hear thousands of voices. All vying to be heard and considered, hoping that maybe for once their answer will be delivered. But sometimes it all comes down to you and there's nothing else another person can do. You are left alone to your own devices, and hopefully you can sift through all the vices. Sometimes it's about professional or business things, but I think more often than not it's about relational things. Do I really love this person or am I just in love with a romanticized version? You see this problem currently afflicts my world because I'm torn between the choice of two different girls. Do I pick the one I think is the one or do I break from routine and do something I've never done? It's quite a problem trying to decide, especially when there's nothing I can hide behind. One girl I've known for a few years and through it all, yeah we've shared some tears. Frustration always comes when you're together, but I always knew it gets better. It's hard to forget someone you loved so dearly, but some distance has let me see a bit more clearly. I do still love her, but maybe she's not right for me, then again maybe she is and just can't see. Then there's the other girl, who's a bit newer to me, but that;s just how things tend to be. Things seem more enticing when they are knew, but when it comes to my affections, if she only knew. You see this impasse comes because I'm the type of guy who has this crippling affliction of being too shy. I freeze with fear at the thought of making a move, because it seems like there's so much too lose. I know in reality it isn't true, but it still seems likes nothing feels right to do. If I chose one will I lose the other? Which is a stupid question because I doubt they even know each other. Yet despite all of these things I've said, instead of asking I'd rather just be dead. That's how deep this fear runs, when presented with two choices I can't even choose one. So, that's the spot I'm currently at, two girls I have clear affections for, but there's nothing I can do about that. It's easy for people just to say "man up and ask", but for a guy like me that's not such an easy task. I have a feeling these women already know who the are, but as for this thing it won't go far. Because no one ever got a date from writing some stupid poem, but at least it's now in the open.

So Long Farewell

I'll be honest this is something I really don't want to say, because I honestly thought I'd never have to face this day. I think the odd thing is that this day comes four years after the fact, but that's only because I never knew how to say all of this crap. I say crap because after everything, I really don't feel my words mean a damned thing. You were my mentor, my role model, the type of man I'm becoming and want to become, you set for me the example. Of being more than just there, you made it a point to show and make us believe you cared. Never with grand gestures full of amazement and wonder, but with little things over and over again I can't even count the number. Because you showed me that love is more than monetary gains and you gave me the strength of shouldering your pain. Not because you bottled it away, but because there were kids that wanted to play. You taught me that it doesn't matter the cost to you, so long as that you always come through. I was never told these lessons directly, but I soaked it all in watching you intently. I inherited the values I hold so dear and through you I've made my ambitions clear. We always complain people go before their time and this is no different, but life has it's reasons and this is no different. It still hurts knowing your gone, but I'm embodying those messages and moving along. You wouldn't want us to dwell on it anyways, but like I said it's never easy to fully part ways. I hadn't until now, honestly I had still been holding onto a shred of hope you'd comeback so how. But that's the dreamer in me, wishing life wasn't always what it had to be. I still don't know if this will ever be truly OK, but I feel I needed to say it some day. So goodbye Grandpa and thanks for all you've done. I don't really know what else to say, I know I'll see you again some day. And when that time finally rolls in, I'll get to say hello again.

Deathly Troubled

Let's take a minute to talk about something that's real, something that we, every day, all feel. Let's take a moment and expose our fears. Forget about the simple things like bugs and things that go bump in the night, I want to talk about things that are never quite all right. Some of us are afraid of dying or having a loved one die, but all I ask is why? If we believe in a higher power, something up above, then shouldn't death be something we embrace like those we love? I know this is getting a bit macabre, but to me it seems like people are reluctant to meet God. When someone finally goes "it was their time", but when ours comes around we plead to anyone who will listen, "it's not mine!" Clinging so desperately to our fragile frame of existence, we live a safe life free from any experience. Choose the path of a lonely life, with a steady job, maybe even kids and a wife. A life that was never worth living because it wasn't life at all, when it came to choosing something to do you dropped the ball. Stayed home instead of taking that trip or maybe there was something else that through your hands you let slip. Sitting around fearing the inevitability of death, but if it's so unavoidable why do we give it such a wide breadth? Now I'm not saying that we should go out and do drugs because YOLO, I guess what I'm getting at is just give life a go. It gets tiring to hear people complain they are bored and restless, when it's their own fault for being content and listless. Meandering to and fro with no direction of where to go, and no clue on how to take a chance, I bet they can't even remember the last time they danced. So content in the safe little cocoon, built up around them like an overblown balloon. Bumping into everyone else's little bubble, sometimes I get the urge to pop some and cause a bit of trouble. Watch their faces as they are hit with a bit of reality thanks to my chaotic insanity. Life in a bubble isn't life at all, it's worse than life in a pokeball. At least then you have a purpose, maybe an HM 01, sorry did I lose some people when I cut that one? Some of us strive to be the very best, while some of us never even show up to take the test. So think about your life for a second and the bubble you're in. Take a moment or two then give me a call, I'm always free to do some poppin.

Love is Broken

Have you ever loved someone in such a way that you can feel them against you even when they are so far away? Loved someone so deeply that sometimes their face is all you can see? I've already stated that I'm choc full of cliches and have accepted that everything I say is so passe, but I don't really care OK? Love is something I, for lack of a better word, love. I love love more than the earth below and sky above, could I make it any clearer? It's what makes you nervous whenever you're near her and it's what drives you to do idiotic things to impress or please her. Sometimes you're stuck between two loves and can't choose, you can't have both and with either one there's something to lose. Maybe a friendship will end or some people feel burned, but love is never easy but somethings just have to bend. Love isn't always accepted, we scorn those who love differently from us or those who have taken something from us, like their happiness is somehow to blame for our lack thereof, now that's not just. Just because you're sad and let it slip away doesn't mean another's love should also decay. We cling so desperately to things that aren't ours, and long for something carnal we can devour. Because we've somehow confused the emotion with the physical attraction. We speed things up then try to slow them down, in hopes that we can finally keep someone around. It's taken in all the wrong shapes and forms, people trying to control something that's out of the norm. Love shouldn't be a frequent feeling, love is delicate and fleeting, sensitive to the heart's quiet beating. So when two meet and synchronize, it's that cheesy gleam you see in their eyes. We're all broken and searching for our other half, but we want someone perfect or someone we can't have. But it's not about finding that one perfect girl, it's about finding the one that removes you from the world. Takes you away from everything that's cynical and jaded, removes those feelings of bitterness and hatred. It's about finding that person who takes you as a broken mess and knows in her heart that this is you at your very best.

Sleep Soundly

Another sun rises in the sky

And I turn over, content to let it pass by

Ready to stay in and sleep through it all

Shut off the phone because I won't take a call.

Deciding it's OK to take a day off what will I miss?

With all the shit happening I don't really want to see this.

Maybe if I just shut my eyes tight

Everything will at the very least appear all right.

Because I'm sick of all the tragedies

I'm sick of always waking up to new travesties.

I just want to stay asleep until it's all gone,

Hide away and hope it's all said and done.

But that will never happen so long as we are human

Because it is in our nature to do this again.

Build Hearts From Stars

Sometime's late at night I just like to watch the stars and use their light to illuminate the scars. Just gazing into that deep dark abyss, thinking about life I've come to the simple conclusion that there's got to be more than this. More than the muck and mire of ordinary life that we a forced to watch transpire, more than the money and fame, more than the foolish acts of shame. It's an obvious assumption to make, yet it seems from all of these things we never take a break. We continue to lie, cheat and steal, we continue fill ourselves with the same pedantic spiel. But there are bright lights among the wreckage, people who live their lives by a different message. One of hope, bravery and fortitude, one that leads them to challenge the status quo regardless of the forced solitude. Because for some reason we demonize and vilify the heroes who even dare to defy. It's these rebels and ruffians that I ally and choose to build my heart from the stars. Because their light provides a chance to see the the darkness, an opportunity to cut though and navigate the blackness. It seems grim and bleak from time to time, but when it does just look up to see the stars shine. The darkness seems so vast and unfathomable, but those stars, thousands of them, try their hardest to make it more manageable. Some of these stars shine with such bright fervor, it's hard to imagine anything like them before. The sad truth though, is that those stars that burn so bright and beautifully are the ones that go out unjustifiably. So we grow angry and sad in retaliation, crying out "How dare you take away my reformation? How dare you reply back with more obfuscation?"  We grow frustrated that our source of light has been taken away, broken and desloate because our star has died away. Don't be sad when a star dies, because they go out with such a flourish it's almost magical to the eyes. You have to pick yourself and know it happened for a reason, keep on walking, keep going for yourself and for no other reason. Build your hearts from these stars and know that no matter how dark it gets, that light is never to far. An ending cliche, they are forever in your heart, fostering the light even you had from the start.

What's Left Unsaid

I don't feel like there's much more to say,

It feels like I've poured my soul out in every way.

I know there's parts I've never even seen

Things inside myself only revealed through dreams.

I think I've spent so much time exposing the flaws,

that it seems I'll never ever escape the dark's jaws.

In all honesty it's really not that bad or dismal

I just have a lot of demons that's all.

So maybe my heart seems like some twisted wreckage

Filled with sad stories and some outdated adage.

But I kind of like it, broken but honest

And it will never be fixed, that I promised.

Why force it back together with tape and glue?

Why not let it show what others never knew?

I've been told I'm brave for letting it all out,

But isn't sharing life what life's all about?

Keep Walking

Tired and exhausted we pull ourselves through the day

Because there really is no other way.

No other way to go through it all

So we trudge through the day and try to stand tall.

Although we have become weak and weary,

We cannot let others know that we're dreary.

We must hold our heads high and be proud

Proud to know that we stand out in a crowd

Whether we want it or not, people seem to know

that there's a person who won't let it show.

Won't let the burden of life appear as a weight

Because we know that we only need to wait.

The load gets lighter and easier to bear,

So long as you know you're friends are there.

Life worth living

It's amazing to see people complain about how their life ought to be, so caught in creating a perfect reality. Too busy trying to fill empty purses, people are mistaking blessings for curses. Well let me give you a little glimpse into me: I've been blessed with a broken body, mind, and even a broken family. Now I know these words are shocking to hear, but they are words I hold dear. It's the brokenness of life that makes us whole, refined through fire I've strengthened my soul. Through trials and tribulations, despite stumbling over temptations, I've begun the retaliation. The push back against the norm and breaking out against the traditional form. I do this because I refuse to sit back and accept that the tragedies of life are all that is left. Why do we resign ourselves to such solitude when all it takes is a bit off graceful fortitude? It won't solve itself with strength or force, but with a calm attitude and ability to stay the course. Things get rough but that's life, filled with times I strife. But here's the secret, it's also full of love, love from others here and above. It's a simple statement that isn't made enough because we are so caught with collecting better stuff, friends, money, toys, chasing after girls and boys. I've done this all too, I've said it before, but I know there is much more to live for. Life is so vast and grand, the idea that people miss out on it because of a few bad spots is something I can't understand. It all gets to feel a bit much and the weight is crippling, but that's the thing. It seems cruel and unfair and sometimes it feels like no one really cares. So we go on trying to fill that whole with stuff, instead of stepping aside and letting in Gods love. I don't mean to be preachy but it's something that life has shown me. It's nice to know that no matter how I feel I'm never alone and He can make anyplace feel like home.

Fleeting Feelings

This one goes out to the dreamers and innovators, the people who aren't content to sit back and wait for later. This one is for the people who chased after what they wanted and by the haters and critics they were never daunted. It's not easy to go for your dreams especially when everyone only tries to put you down, "you'll never make it as a band/writer/actor stop acting like a clown" To those people I offer a simple gesture, a middle finger so large you'll never enjoy the same sick pleasure. That twisted feeling you get because you've made yourself "superior" while make others feel inferior. And you've done this for no better reason than you're a colossal idiot, to afraid of your failures to even admit it. So while you sit in the shallow end of self-pity others are enjoying the bright lights and big city. All because we dared to dream of things you couldn't and because the act of giving up is something we wouldn't. Because when you find out what your passionate about it doesn't matter what the others are trying to figure out. To break from conformity is seen as this tragic abnormality, but aren't the philosophizers and inventors that were called stupid in their own time the same people we hold up now as those of a genius mind? So enjoy your 9-5 dead-end cubicle job and try to put as down, even though we are already so high off the ground. So this one goes out to the writers and musicians just trying to make it, the people working 2 jobs just to play a bit. Those who call them lazy slackers have no idea the dedication it takes when you have no backers. You have yourself and a handful of friends who you would take with you to the ends. Forget all the haters, they only exist to prove you matter and it's up to you to rise above the mindless chatter. These haters no mater how bold or loud only prove one thing...what you're doing is a beautiful thing. Few have the courage to simple go for it and become something much more than normal society will permit. You're one of the lucky ones to break free of the mold, now let's keep that going till we're old. Don't let them take what's yours, fight for your dreams and you'll find those open doors.

Mirrored Fears

Most days I wake up feeling OK and things seem a bit clearer, other days I wake up and can't even face myself in the mirror because I find it impossible to face my reflection. It's a cold and callous recollection of all of my imperfections. Suddenly, it's not me I'm looking at anymore, but some horrid apparition I've never seen before. It's the manifestation of the things I've never been man enough to face, so I push them down into a dark, dark place hoping I never see them again but they always come back to the surface. I turn away from the mirror, out of sight out of mind, thinking that if I leave the mirror, I can leave the demons behind. I know that's a lie their in my head whispering deceit, breaking my psyche down until I admit defeat. It's a problem that can't just be ignored, but it's not easy to get rid of the things you've abhorred. The cracks and breaks in your ego are hard to cover up, especially when you're already broken and beaten up. Sometimes I just don't feel like picking up the pieces because the constant torment and voices never ceases. "You'll never be good enough, you'll never amount to anything" skips on repeat in my head until it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy. The worst part is the words never come from outside influences, but always internal circumstances. Self-hate and self-loathing begin to define who I am and who I'll be, clouding my eyes and distorting everything I see. Before I know it the world is cynical and cold, I don't even want to live long enough to be old. I'd rather crash and burn at 22 then live a life hating every single thing that I do. These words and lines pale in comparison to what others write and I'll never be able to do anything right. I claw and pound on the walls inside my mind, trying to find a scrap of decency that I can hide behind. God forbid I let people see the demons hiding in my body because who could ever love someone so gaudy? All of this tension is building inside of me though because I have no way to vent or let it show. So I write these poems and stories in hopes to gain some glory. A vain and shallow hope that maybe if I expose my flaws people will give me some sort of faint applause. 'Oh my, you're so brave and strong to put yourself out there, tell me why do you think that talent is so rare?' It's not. I'm not some mythical hero pulling off the impossible, I'm just a broken idiot trying to make something out of the illogical. A simple guy trying to pull together the wreckage of himself to possibly make it into oneself. Trying to banish the demons from his head and replace them with something more gentle instead. I'm trying to create a reflection I can finally bear, instead of avoiding my own blank stare.

Beaten Down

Tonight things will be short and concise, I figured a change of pace might be nice. I have a tendency to just type and type, even knowing no one really reads what I write. I find myself in a creative exhaustion from all of this cathartic expulsion. It feels great to write away the stress, but if I push to hard I won't be giving you my best. I want to make points and challenge you to think with my words, but all that dreaming is for the birds. Maybe people just to don't take a blog seriously, or maybe I am just rambling on deliriously. Sometimes we all just need a break from reality, but these writings give me a break from insanity. Time to sit down and collect my random thoughts and try to untie these stomach knots. Believe or not, it's not always easy to write about you terrible you've been or the horrible things you've done way back when. So I'll continue on with cleansing my soul, and hope what's left is still whole.

Silence

There are somethings I just can't figure out, like why are there problems we never talk about? Thousands of kids contemplate suicide and harbor fears and thoughts that never subside. If this is some so prevalent then why does no one ever talk about it? I know the pain and loneliness but I have no idea how to deal with this. It seems so easy to tell someone to get over it, it gets better, but what do you say to them when they're writing that letter? That final good bye written on paper and ink, in hopes to leave a permanent mark before they're gone in a blink. We ignore the sign posts and warnings till it's already to late and we begin the mourning. Why have we lost another poor soul? I tried to help, but I couldn't fathom the hole, the hole inside their heart that could never be filled, not with all of his tears or blood that's been spilled. Slit wrists and empty bottles seem impossible to imagine, but to that kid in crisis it's a reality that seems bound to happen. All because we ignore them, push them to the side, and for what reason? Selfish pride? Are we too proud to admit that some people have problems? Or are we too stubborn to sit down and solve them? We are so quick to send them to a doctor and get a nice little prescription, but before we know it that kid has a nice little addiction. We don't treat the problems, only a symptom, cured through pills and appointments in hopes someone else can solve them. We focus on getting kids to face their bullies and issues in hopes they can forgive them, but what these kids need is to forgive themselves. I know that's what I needed more than anything, a chance to absolve myself of everything. Now I still struggle sometimes with these thoughts and feelings, but I don't find myself so often reeling. I'll admit as confident as I come off, I feel ashamed, useless, and worthless like is life really worth all this? I've never thought about how I'd do myself in or go out, but it's just something I've thought a lot about. Don't be scared you'll find me on top of a building, I'm picking up the pieces of my life and rebuilding. I know I'll never have the strongest foundation and I don't use as much support as a should, but I'm building a life that I know will be good. I don't fear that my walls will ever come down, but I do fear that it's still happening all around. Kids have no one to talk to who's felt a similar way, so they bottle it up and shove it down every day. I use my writing to pour out these emotions, but not everyone has these notions. There's no way for them to release until they are laid in peace. I guess what I'm saying is we need to take care of the real problem at hand and let them know there is something better planned.

Tiny Voices

Sometimes I lay in bed at night and hear the chatter of little voices, it might sound annoying at first but I've found it drowns out the other noises. I guess it sounds slightly crazy that I'm plagued by these voices but I don't see what the other choice is. They are there to stay whether I like or not because as sad as it seems sometimes they're all I got. I know it's all just me up inside of my head, but it's nice to pretend it's someone else instead. I haven't given them bodies or faces, or imagined they are from far away places. They are just the little voices in my imagination, they have no need for past destinations. You see, you can't talk to just anybody with some of life's problems, so it helps to have a personal proxy to help solve them. Blur the lines between fantasy and reality and you've now opened up a different world to see. But be careful this world isn't often nice it can break you down piece by piece. It's a darker reality in this middle world, but it really is a wonder to see. Maybe that's just me and how I have perceived, this dark little world might be different to others who have it conceived. So maybe for you the contrast is stark, but I guess my imagination is a tainted a bit dark. Sometimes I get caught up in my head, and simply wonder what would happen if I were dead. It's not out of self-loathing or hate, but out of a morbid curiosity that stirs this debate. Would there be sorrow and crying? Or would it be full of people with epitaphs and lying? Sure, I might be a bit too cynical here, but this is just my fear. I might be missed for a bit by a few, but I don't think the church will be lining the pews. However; I'm not really afraid of not being missed, now what I really have begun to fear is this. I'm scared I'll be the last to die, the only one left in a world of lies. I'd have no one to ground me in reality, and remind me who I'm supposed to be. I'm afraid I'll be consumed by the noises and be permanently trapped in a world full of voices. Those tiny little voices that talk and chatter about everything that never mattered.

Simply Said

I'm going to be honest I find it hard to write sometimes, my mind is just crammed full of lines lines lines. It's hard to make headway inside my own head. It'll only be quiet when I'm finally dead. I can't even imagine what goes on up there, full of creatures and wonders so incredibly rare. Some think it's easy to just come up with these rhymes and to those people I say why don't you try it a few times. It's not just a trick that I can turn on and off, and if you think it is then just bugger off. I go insane sometimes trying to sit here and write, I'm pretty sure I'm not totally all right. I hear the buzzing of words throughout my brain and I think that's what's driving me insane. It never stops, just keeps rambling on and on and on and I think I should just move on, you get the point, there's no sense in going over that joint. I'm sure you understand why I'm a bit of an odd person so there's no need to go on and on and on. Try to imagine a balloon if you can and now imagine it starting to expand. Now when almost full until it's about to pop, start cramming it full of things right up to the top. That's what it is like inside my imagination and why I write with no hesitation. It's a rush to get things out first, before that precariously packed balloon bursts. So sometimes may seem dark or scary, but don't worry friend, things aren't that hairy. It's just that there's so many thoughts and dreams and hopes I want to share with you all and that means I'm going to have to tear down this wall. This wall of impenetrability and began to show my own vulnerability. Creating a world of words and phrases to show you all of my life's different phases, the good, the bad, and the why do I still remember this, I guess it is time I show everyone what it all is. No more hiding, no more fear, it's time to show you everything my dear. Everything about who I am and who I've been, but I must warn you once we start, we can't go back again.

The Tale of Pirate Flynn

There once was a man, rugged and true
He commanded the respect of his entire crew.
He had thick, dark hair, was tall as a tree
his eyes were as blue and fierce as the turbulent sea.
He was known from London to Bombay
all travelers knew it was best to be out of his way.
He commanded a ship with grace and ease,
his voice bellowed out like an ocean breeze.
Fiercely respected by sailors and pirates alike,
No one could ever know where he'd strike.
He controlled the ocean like the great Poseidon
A pirate like him won't be seen again.
To most he was known as the pirate Flynn
but to those in open waters he was the Devil's Wind.
Never fought a battle he couldn't win
Flynn knew well when to go all in.
The smell of the sea salt and brine
lingered around much longer than women and wine.
A pirates life is hard, full of working and fighting
all for the hope of some treasure sighting.
Ye need nerves uncommon to most men,
but ye'll travel to places some have never been.
It's a lofty dream to be chasing after
some only find their death faster.
If ye want to be a pirate you've got to know it in yer skin
But never forget about that Devil Flynn.

Life is sweet when lived complete

We try to hold onto life so desperately that some people never experience it fully. Life is full so many wonders to see, it surpasses anything ever shown in Disney. Again I sound cliche and oh so passe, but to those that believe that I have much more to say. I may not have lived the happiest or the brightest, but I've never once regretted this test. Have you? Cause if you do, then I apologize because living life simply should never be your demise. Some want to dream to live a life that's simple and plain but a life like that would just drive me insane. Living like that would be incredibly boring, I want to live like a bird I should be soaring! High above the people and cities where stuffy people sit in their little committees. You can keep your briefcase and 401K, I'll go on living a wonderful life OK?

Broken, but still good.

Everybody is broken in some sort of way, it's due to the trials and tribulations we face each day. And if you say you don't have a single bruise, you're life has been a cruise, well then congratulations on surviving a trial by fire or maybe more precisely congratulations on being a liar. Maybe it's just me but I refuse to believe anyways had it that easy all the while, you may be born with a silver spoon but you're broken and fragile. The truth is our emotions, our beings are broken and battered, but that's how they are meant to be, a person proud to show their scars means so much to me. I may not be the best at letting them show, but I make a point of making sure others know. Everybody feels like their pain is worse, how could anyone ever relate? That's just prideful thinking that leads to self-hate. It's a cyclical process, pain leads to hate and that hate leads to sorrow, and soon enough you begin to hate tomorrow. I know this all because I lived through it, the difference is I didn't live by it. While people mock you and bring your confidence to zero, just remember their pompous act is to protect a fragile ego. Instead of accepting our faults, we lock those emotions in some tight vaults. We refuse to accept we are anything less, so we make others feel like less and end up in another mess. Society teaches kids they have to be the best, but only one can claim that top spot...what about the rest? Those kids who weren't strong or pretty enough, is there enough room in popularity for us? We place our values in the wrong types of things, it seems that all we focus on is things. Those tangible things give us confirmation and validation that serve as our evaluation. People are put on pedestals because they are perfect and pristine like they are straight out of a movie scene. But the make up and puffed out chests is a desperate attempt to separate themselves from the rest. Sure it might work at first, but that inflated ego is like a balloon, it's going to burst. Don't ever be afraid of losing friends if show who you really are, because real friends will roll up their sleeves and compare scars.

Something Romantic

I loved a girl once, but that seems so long ago. Well really I still love her, why? I don't really know. Maybe she's the one, the woman I was destined for, or maybe I'm just a hopeless romantic always longing for something more. It's nice to have that feeling, when everything's seemingly all right and when it's gone you stay up dreaming all night. Dreaming of her and the words she said, caught up in melodramatics wishing you were dead. But that's just the foolishness of being hurt, just listen to me though her "smell" will eventually leave your shirt. Love comes and love goes, it's a tired old cliche that we've all come to know. I guess I shouldn't talk since I still love the same girl, but I've been through it all so I know the same shock. I know it hurts when they don't love you back, sometimes you just have to wait and that's all I'll say about that. Well, let's back up a bit and give some context to these thoughts and tell you about the girl who has my heart in knots. I was about 15 when I met her, I was so young and naive. The fact that a girl this beautiful was even talking to me was hard to believe. Young, blonde, beautiful, serene probably the most amazing person I'd ever seen. Sweet and creative the list is endless, but let's not get too wrapped up in this. We talked and then we dated, then affections of love were soon stated. It was something I'd never felt before, I'd loved others but never felt it like this, to the core.  It was great at first, always is in the beginning, and since I'm built out of cliches my whole world was spinning. But I wasn't prepared for the fallout and learning what broken hearts are really about. We all have baggage and some sort of damage and how life can be so seemingly savage. Long story short we broke up, but I guess that was obvious, but from there on out things were on and off for us. I know I'm leaving out some major details, but getting to into it all is a whole nother set of tales. The important part is I love and still do, even if for her the same isn't true. We're both better now, the broken fences mended and the future is fairly open-ended.

Thank You

I just wanted to thank you all for making me the man I am today, but there's so much more to this than my feeble words will ever say. You've all created and molded who I am, but I live with this fear that it's all a sham. I'm afraid one day I'll wake up and be exactly the same as I was back then and that's not the type of person I want to be again. I was manipulative, abrasive, and honestly surprised I had a friend, you'll never know how much I hate myself at a days end. Sometime's I'm afraid that's my true identity and that terrifies me. Has this progress been all for not? Should these changes just be forgot? I know I've become a better person, a better man, someone please tell me I'm better than, better than the old callous me please tell me that's not who I'm supposed to be. I know I still feel selfish, arrogant, and rude. I just wasn't built to be some closeted prude. Is that so bad or wrong? Or am I destined to be this mess all along? Why can't I just get some validation or some sort of confirmation? Whenever I'm told I'm doing something right, there's always that second part to confirm I'm still not all right. Like right steps but just not there yet, but you'll get there I bet. Sometimes I just don't get why I'm so insecure or why I hold in all these fears. I try to be the best man I know how to be, but...maybe that guy just isn't me. Maybe everything I think about me is just a result of an inflated ego, where I even got that I don't know. The fake self-confidence has built up a wall around my psyche it's eliminated any chance of someone seeing what might be. Like maybe there is a vulnerable person in there crying out for help, but that person is quiet and won't even yelp. Maybe some have seen him or heard a cry, but this vulnerable side is hidden behind locks and doors and we don't know why? I think it's because I'm scared of my real self, that's why I keep it on a shelf. Scared of the power he holds to show me the treasures untold. Treasures of life and and the world that could be mine, if only I didn't keep him in such a bind. But what if people don't like the man behind the mask, that's why I'm so afraid of this task. The task of showing my true colors, I just don't think I'm ready to show that to others. Will they be disgusted, turn and run? Or will they be delighted I've finally come? That story's yet to be finished, and won't be until this fake me is finally diminished. So let me get back to the main point, thank you for at least bringing me to this point.

Hashtag Really?

It's crazy to see how many people are getting into relationships, it's getting hard just to keep track of it. It seems like high school is less about education and more about communication, getting in on the latest gossip and rumors, listening in on every coital murmur. Because we make sex seem cool and kids use it as a tool. They boost their popularity into places it shouldn't be. Now, there's nothing with having friends, that's not what I'm saying, egos just seem to be over-inflated to me. Someone gets 1,00 Twitter followers or Facebook friends and suddenly their reality comes to an end. It's replaced with this self-centered attitude because they were retweeted once by some sort of famous dude. Which is cool and all, but using that to decide your friends is like deciding your future with a crystal ball. We've traded real friends and loves for digital dudes and people in a social media stratosphere so far above. We replace an ideal of a higher name just for the chance to get a little blue check next to our twitter name. I use twitter and facebook a lot so they aren't the problem, it's when we put way too much faith in all of them. It's no longer "hey call me at 501", now it's become "hey follow me @cutie1" #omg, could it really be? That cute person from homeroom followed me?" Stop it, are you serious? Hashtag this, hashtag that, can we please stop? All these things are making me delirious. We are bombarded by tweets and notifications from random people and associations. Half of them we will never know, but we all still accept them though. We just follow and friend, that's the new social trend.