i don’t think sunrises exist, though. i think they’re just a propaganda, giving everyone an excuse to rise early. but i say fuck that, yo. i’m not rising early for that, just to see some myth. i’m not. i’m just not going to. stop poking me. i said i’m not. don’t you dare. i’ll– alright, i’ll wake up early.
Posts published in “Year: 2007”
your paradise is now. you know nothing other than your situation, and the situations of those allowing you to know them, whether through their shortcomings, or their boastings. your ability is based solely on who you can become, not who you are. i never believed the world was anything more than this ship, which we ride, and allow ourselves to traverse the galaxy with. i now think we are so unimpressionable that we are implanted with thoughts derived from those around us, and, as such, are some amalgamation of those we’ve seen and been around, and, therefore, are only ourselves when taken from those, or walking from those, and giving ourselves a chance to accept the light which abounds the entire world. just as a plant takes a millennium to evolve to accept shade and shadow as its only source of light, we are evolving to accept only shade and shadow in prominence, and to do away with, unless artfully done, our light’s source.
A man who respects a good pen deserves said pen.
i want to run, awake to a smile and closed eyes.
My mind thinks in spurts.
I wish it wouldn’t, but if it didn’t
it wouldn’t be the same;
I wish it wouldn’t, but if it didn’t
I wouldn’t know your name.
My mind thinks in spurts,
catches on a word, I wish it wouldn’t,
but if it didn’t, I wouldn’t be the same;
I wish it wouldn’t, but you know
I wouldn’t be here with you again.
My mind doesn’t work
uh– in the magical sense that
every other may; they
may see the roundabout, know there’s
a turn, but I stop in the middle and
admire the passers’ yearn for an outlet, anywhere,
anywhere to know the world is ahead and
I’m lost again, but that’s fine, yeah,
that’s just fine.
And I want you to know
I never knew your name
until you told me; I
never knew you existed
until the day I woke up,
rolled over,
and you weren’t there, beside.
I wish I
never grew up, I
wish the hands were
small enough to not wrap; I
wish the soul couldn’t surmise; I
will see when I no longer
think of what keeps me here, hunched
over a keyboard, waiting for
some word to strike so I never need
wait for it again.
static catches
a snag somewhere
the same words said
just seem to take
so many times to be said
but all that’s okay now
since you’re where you are and
you’re so far from being here;
knock, knock, and the door
swings shut/i
lied a lot, said some things
i wish i could/i can never take back
i fault myself for that
i fault myself for not being
more of a friend before
but now that’s okay now
since you’re so done with me
that nothing nothing no one can
tell you how i ever felt
but me/
you can listen to these
and see i’m sincere
but without telling you
all you meant to me
these are just empty prophecies
of what may have been
but what may have been
may one day be all we’ll ever have;
i lost you once
and never lost you again
because you never came back;
i had you once
and never had you again
because you never came back;
i held out a hand
rotten to the core
and don’t blame you
can only blame myself for
you not taking what i offered
but know
know these words mean nothing
with their catches, stum’bl’ings,
raking the truth
so littered by our memories
and all that was never said
or said too much again.
once upon a time
i fell a rhyme
with swift hands
not understanding
what may have been
but that’s all, that’s all we got/
what might have been/
what could be/what should be/
they don’t matter now,
but somehow, somehow
i’ll let you know one day
somehow, somehow
i’ll let you know one day.
there lived a boy
caught up in the rap
of an everchanging system
lost in the lies and caught up
in the rap of the darlings dangling
with nothing but cheese to the face
and no maze but what’s screened
preserved and monitored;
there this boy found
a girl, a princess, She,
who never needed introduction
but the greetings of her subject’s knees/
a clapping of the softest kind/
and this girl, She, this princess,
kept her distance from the boy, Him,
likening Him to some others round the bouts,
but he knew better and felt She would, too,
with a little time and tender kisses
of the hand, a gentle gesture of a twisted man/
she laughed, they played, she, this Princess, they
flashed faces from between garbled soliloquies
forced for not a second spent wasting typings
was too much by the ones around, and
so, too, they, She, with Him, gave theirs, but
through these they sought repentance,
acceptance, a game mentality
much the peak-a-boo with little smiles and
audio files tossed around without a knowledge of
the contents, just the tone and
what it meant to one side/the other
being left to decipher the outcome/
well, they, these two, Him with his She,
and She with her Him, played games until the time came when all was silent, for one had found a meaning more than what was meant, and, though no words were given straight from the mouth of other, took them as being hallow’s claim, and, through them,
you learn more from a laugh, a bubble
[than a cry, a chuckle, a sadness, an anger][ing]
how close the tip to fabric, touch