A Culmination of Things I'm Feeling Before I Go

Tell me something,
anything
let me know you exist
that your more then just in my head

this goes out to all of you
anyone who reads
cares
needs

to the writers who failed
to the mothers who always regret
to the father who made a mistake
the kids who were blamed

you exist
you're a live
or at least...
I hope so

if your gone, I'm sorry
if you never existed, I'm crazy
if your dying, I'll save you
if your dead then I failed

everything's a circle
everything's a lie
you're less then I hoped for
but more then I deserve

this is a good bye
this is a hello
a retardendo
and the other word that means the opposite of that

Good bye dear listener
I hope your trip goes well
I've learned from you
and I hope you have too

I hope to see you again
because I need you more then you know
but I hope you can get beyond that too
you deserve the world and I hope you get it

signed
I love you

A Positive Reenforcement

Certain people and things
Make me happy
Some things
Do not

Just because
I’m not happy all the time around you
Doesn’t mean
You aren’t one who does

I live life in it’s only sense
After being around for a bit
You start to realize
Just how fickle a tone can be

My mood is generally based
On a combination
Of who I’m with
What I’m doing
And whether or not I’ve had a good year.

So to put it in lemans terms
I’ll generally be
On the down side of a hang over

But I like to think of myself
As a positive pessimist

I think down on myself
But highly of others
To me
Your ability to wake up
Put on shoes
Disregard an insult
And walk out of the house in the morning
Is something worth a little more then notice

Give me a break you savage
I’m the other half of a ghost
And if I believe in you
The least you could do is believe in yourself to

And the next of kin takes the lead

And I’ll call you a liar
If you tell me you love me
It’s all a lie
and it always was

It’s now confirmed
I’m gone
myself exists
On this paper

The me you see
This body…
Is just a shell
So don’t believe a word I say

The pen is my friend,
The paper is our only hangout spot

I fail at life
I’ll make people laugh
At how
Just damn pathetic I am

Laugh at me
Cover me with insults
It doesn’t matter
You may as well make fun of a sculpture

But who are you really insulting
The sculpture or the sculptor?

Take a breath
Hold it in
Let it out
Congratulations, you’ve now found the meaning of life

givemeareason

I can't take this any more
I need to do something drastic

I'm getting oh so tired of breathing
cut my veins in two so I can die twice as fast

Please let my lungs fill with water
so I can't breath any more
I'll leave swiftly I promise
you won't even notice

grab my arm and squeeze
I miss you dear friend
I miss my bed,
I miss that who's never existed

tell me why I'm still here?
I should be long gone now
twenty 4 keys
at least I could never leave you

dear listener, you are my drunken rant
why I do stupid things that show me where I lack
don't kiss me if you don't want me
I don't blame you, I'd do that too.

Shut the fuck up ass hole
you're such a punishment

cut me up, stick me in your walls
let my words rip you apart,
I am your sickness
the worlds disease

Oh lord please kill me now

You ask me If I’m okay
But don’t really want my answer

I am tired
I am sick
I am worse
And I’ll admit it

Just cut me I swore I won’t bleed on you
Just don’t lie, I can’t take that anylonger

Tell me you hate me
I’m ugly
I’m awful
That you want me dead

be honest and brutal
Discourage my ideas
Cut me deeper then a knife
May words be your weapon

I am not the best at anything

The one thing I can’t figure out
Is why you keep talking
Why you keep lying
I know your nice

And I appreciate the effort
But I’d wish you’d stop
It does more damage then good
I know where I fall short

I hate myself
Talk to me and I’ll love you
Just don’t don’t complement me
It just reminds me where I lack

To Live The Life of a Tree

Dear Listener, I’ve realized your insignificant
And so am I
I now understand that who we are doesn’t matter
And it never will

we are what we create
us being creations ourselves
we breath based on someone else’s Idea
at least in the first place

once you create
It’s made
set in stone
and you can’t control what it is or becomes.

whether or not it’s alive or dead
It roams in circles
taking in what others see
how others view it

in this way we are the same
all of us

the trees
the dirt
the body
the soul
the aroma
the anesthetic
all of this
all of these are the same

who I am is what I do
what I do is who I am
I am based on other peoples opinions and personalities
what I do creates people and their realities

My Words Are The Slaughter

This is not a side of me
it is me
all you see and hear
is nothing more then a mirror reflection,

a composite reality
which is made to fool you

I am not pleasant
funny
or something you'd like

I am kind
that is probably the most reality you will ever see

I am a doll
you see a doll
I have a soul
but it's masked by flesh

it's the flesh you love
and the soul you like
for one to exist without the other is anarchy
for one to exist is stupidity

take heart dear listener
I have turned my soul
"my words to the slaughter"
to words on this paper

here you can take at your leisure
even enjoy what's to brash to stand
I love to love, and hate nothing
but remember dear darling,

I'm no more then you read.

The bug though squashed, is still there.

am I real?
Do I breath?
Is the absence of breathing
the proof of existence

is the fact that something isn't there
that there isn't anything in a space
proof that there once was
proof that existence, though temperamental, exists?

just breath in my ear
tell me you want me
tell me I'm nothing
just tell me I'm something
Blah Blah Blah

I lie a little.
I never take sides
but both think I'm there
I am existence in a nut shell

I live, and so am alive
I breath, so i have lungs
I give, and so I get?
I love, So I'm your lover?

Someone who is overly happy one hundred percent of the time is not weird, creepy or crazy
It is pleasant.
Unless, of course, you are happy with being unhappy
In which case someone who is happy all the time would be terrifying.

Why Live, When Someone Else Can?

I've spent years of breathing, to realize it was all wrong.
If you hold your breath long enough,
you'll forget what it's like to have air in your lungs
but dried lungs have a purpose too

for what you lack
you become aware of
and everyone respects
the dominate organ

If you hide behind whats strong
and mutate from years of shared usage
then a strong lung can take the place of two
then you too can appear strong

though week and defenseless
no one will bother you
the fear of appearance
will do enough to protect you

and It won't matter if your dead all the while
for your life will be envied
and you will be respected
you won't live life, but you'll be twice the man.

The End of Breathing, There's Life in Death

why do we watch?
to keep our selves entertained
to leave us too preoccupied to worry or
care about the things that really matter

we watch others act
for the fear of our own ability
for a lack of determinism or
over abundance of self doubt

why do I write?
I write for the sake of fallen dreams
I write for a lost and almost forgotten hope
of achieving more than just self awareness

You read for the same reasons I watch
choose to sit behind lines
not be myself
and witness a greatness Only found in dreams

I once preached about breathing
finding self and announcing it quietly but with resonance
Now I know the truth
I am not myself and I'm now better than ever

twice a shell
but half the man
I'll never think
of breathing again

Life Death and the Journey in between

And I'm just like everybody else

I have the same habits and habitual routines as 99.9% of the world

I will eat, sleep and fuck up from today 'till the day I die

But regardless of this all, I will still try

I will try to eat and sleep in a pro survival fashion

I will try and make both my life and others around me better

I will aimlessly work towards goals that to even me seem impossible

And I will fall for the same two girls as if it's my chronic malady.

I can breath, and oh god it hurts

But I will try try try, and hope this works

A Scrath Beneth The Surface

like a broken record
life spins on a slant
giving less then is taken
Leaving all with regrets

like the disk that spins
time goos on to go out
The wisper turns to shout
and it's the start of the bout

but the victor will not be named
he is a sinner they have proclaimed
for he fixed what was mamed
he is The sinner they have proclaimed

Sleep Deprivation

I notice each day more and more,
just how useless sleep is.
more usless then eating, shitting
and the actual need to clean up afterselves

of all these useless actions
that don't actually progress you further
sleeping, by far
is the worst

How many great storys start
with the notion of
what people could do
if they didn't need to sleep.

I can think of quite a few movies to start.
if life could have parts on all 3rd's
one devoted to work, one to play
and...furthering, work play, knowledge,

just to think, never stop advancing learning, never stop your normal life either.
by the age of 20 we'd all have houses
and PHD's in echo linguistics or what not.

the last line is for dramic effect
like galilao who I don't know of
but will always compare
even is always a neccesity.

I swear in this moment, I can almost taste it.

On this cold morning weather
not many thoughts pass through my head
it's as if my thoughts are frozen inside my sleepy
pale yet dark complection
the cold from the nights gone through
frozen more then just a body, but excluded some parts too.

I yearn for a life of live houses,
I want my home to breath.
hundreds of little brains
and more then twice the eyes it seems.

it's consumption is my art
flowing from out of me to it
and I give it up freely
for my home needs to be fed.

it doesn't hurt to give it,
except when my brain grows dry
whether the liquids gone frozen
or exaporated into the night.

just let me taste your air
an exchange that transends time
I won't give up, or let you fall out of touch
untill your reaper claims what's mine

Dear Listener, I've begun

and so it begins,
which to those who know
only means
there's an end

And if every end is a beginning
then this will never truly be over
just change form
like when one's soul meets one's body

I breath only to only exhale
I eat only to shit
I sleep only to wake up
and I write only to finish

I end lines as they start
and they only flow from one to another
even this story is just
the ending of the other.