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.