Let me make things just a little clearer
I know the truth
The truth about you
The truth about me
Many things have been concealed throughout this mess
But I can uncover every last little thing
I choose to medicate
Prescriptions
Alcohol
Now I have to decide
How far will I go
I do not wish to know all that I do
But I have the access to knowledge that I should never even know exists
I know some have tried to hide the truth and distract me from searching deeper
Nothing stops me forever
Not the sickness
Nor the shaking
Not even the pain
I take back everything I ever said to you
Mixtures of cold and heat swim up and down my body
Screams swell inside and wrench my guts
Delving deeper into my work
My beautiful and easy distractions
The ones that keep me up until 5am
Putting smiles on my faces
For so long I blamed the tear of our intertwined fabrics on myself
On my few outbursts of extreme emotion
And my inability to completely cut the threads that held others in place
But it was never that
It may have worsened the tearing
However, I fought to stitch things in the right manner
Stop haunting my mind
Flashing in and out
The less emotion
The less acknowledgement
The worse it all is
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
330 am and 2 and a half weeks later
330am 2 and a half weeks later
I sold my soul to an Englishman. Also, sold it to an Irishman and a few different Americans. It was a pretty easy thing to do, though I don't remember what I got in return for it. For a while, it was a sense of pride, knowing that it wasn't something I ever really needed.
Now, i'm not nearly as offensive in my writing as the great Ginsberg. However, there are the moments in life that the obscenity that sporadically comes out is quite inspiring. It makes me laugh to think of the small moments that many fear are exactly the things that can make me smile. They can rip away all hope as well though.
Mirror shards and flash burns tickling the underbelly of the sickened world of a silly young man.
The instant gratification generation of self approval and righteousness will eventually rule it all, and be completely in the wrong the whole time. Each one twisting and manipulating the already destroyed world to work in their own favor. The straight edge, the punk, the hippie, the junkie, the therapist, the hypocrite, the leader, the artist, the teacher, the slovenly spoken sloth spewing strategic soliloquies, all of them right and wrong at the same exact instance. The perfect paradox that shows the precise meaning of it all.
If only the nicotine could be injectable, if sleep was no longer required, if steady knowledge could be streamed through technology, we would not have to chase the dragon. We could finally catch the dragon and use it to reach new heights, new realizations.
Sacrificing ridiculous things like time and energy, when we should be sacrificing children and corporations to begin anew.
The validity we are all seeking is non-existent, yet we already have it. You must resist the sleep and embrace yourself for who you are to reach the line that the doctors say you should never get near, and if you do get close or cross that line they decide to drug you and send volts through you. They will use your family and those that can pull the heart strings to swing you like a marionette with no rhythm but with confusion.
So go ahead, strike me down. It does not matter, it does not make a difference. For I am one of the paradoxical masses, but I will be free.
I sold my soul to an Englishman. Also, sold it to an Irishman and a few different Americans. It was a pretty easy thing to do, though I don't remember what I got in return for it. For a while, it was a sense of pride, knowing that it wasn't something I ever really needed.
Now, i'm not nearly as offensive in my writing as the great Ginsberg. However, there are the moments in life that the obscenity that sporadically comes out is quite inspiring. It makes me laugh to think of the small moments that many fear are exactly the things that can make me smile. They can rip away all hope as well though.
Mirror shards and flash burns tickling the underbelly of the sickened world of a silly young man.
The instant gratification generation of self approval and righteousness will eventually rule it all, and be completely in the wrong the whole time. Each one twisting and manipulating the already destroyed world to work in their own favor. The straight edge, the punk, the hippie, the junkie, the therapist, the hypocrite, the leader, the artist, the teacher, the slovenly spoken sloth spewing strategic soliloquies, all of them right and wrong at the same exact instance. The perfect paradox that shows the precise meaning of it all.
If only the nicotine could be injectable, if sleep was no longer required, if steady knowledge could be streamed through technology, we would not have to chase the dragon. We could finally catch the dragon and use it to reach new heights, new realizations.
Sacrificing ridiculous things like time and energy, when we should be sacrificing children and corporations to begin anew.
The validity we are all seeking is non-existent, yet we already have it. You must resist the sleep and embrace yourself for who you are to reach the line that the doctors say you should never get near, and if you do get close or cross that line they decide to drug you and send volts through you. They will use your family and those that can pull the heart strings to swing you like a marionette with no rhythm but with confusion.
So go ahead, strike me down. It does not matter, it does not make a difference. For I am one of the paradoxical masses, but I will be free.
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
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