hey folks thought I'd share some of the stuff I've written over the years. Not really poetry but writing down my thoughts. Most don't understand the way I write, but it just makes it that much better when you find someone who is actually on the same wave length as you.., anyways enjoy* and responce is welcome probative Everyone is looking for a meaning and most are looking to please someone else. Most are living their lives as a facade. Trying to fit into the standards of society.. if your accepted you're happy and if your not you're miserable. Embrace your imperfections and fill you own void of disatisfaction. Living in a life of fantisy and dreaming instead of doing. To no ones fault but our own. We loathe waking up to the sound of the alarm clock and following rules just to make a living, but choose to continue on with out perpetual routine. You shouldn't be fine with settling. But thats just me. Desensitized Unreasonable disposition provides one last suicide injection, and need for ambition left you alone in the dark. Your name is forgotten. It's a shame we have the privlage of destruction. These times are critical. Your the reason the world rotates. Feed your head. Ever dream you fell and someone lent a hand. Ha. Destiny=false hope. Illusion of fate. One more lie to ponder. . We were given everything we ever needed to co-exist. It's not in your possession. Trip the judgement. Denial wakes with the dawn. Put your make-up on. Let the massacre rain on. Beg and plead. These words fall in the wrong places. Silent inquiry of clamity. . Exhale of unsented smoke. Toke, hit, bunt. Inject.Indure. Let me out. Your not part of this facade right? .So you mean the war was a mistake? .Wrongly portrayed. Please give me my family back. You laughed when I cryed and hit me with your pain.Son use this gun to kill more young.Your in hell anyways. No need to grow up. In Denial Disappointment runs through my veins, while I watch with distain as my mother stumbles over her own guilt. And I try to advert my eyes as she fumbles with her shoes and seems more pathetic with everyday that shall pass. It's a fallacy to squander with the thought that one may feel contentment in anyday of anytime. With every lie I will ponder, the thought of hope I will no longer permit. For one to feel sly in a time of hopeless humility will only constant my lingering feelings of aggression, and while you attempt to repress your grief with everything I can not tolerate, I only become more apparent of the hate. I will no longer advocate for it shall only be a maraje of false hope. When your words are few and indirect I can not feel justified when weery of your pretentious assumptions. I'm my experience I know I am not who you portray, but that I can not change. It makes no difference. So your sitting on the shitter reading a magazine you found next to the tub and while flipping through pages scanning all the unneccisary topics your heart pounces as you note the old man hovering over a little child. Like everyother article this one too is sexually suggestive, but in a manner that makes your stomach curtle and starts the acid injection flowing through your mouth. You wonder how someone could act so vial. He's dressed impressively and is clean shaven, he doesn't look like those freaks you see hovering around the childrens dressing room. Your heart stops as you picture all the young children in your neighbor hood, their faint smile as their daddys grabs their hand and rushes them inside. Maybe they were just late for dinner. You remember the father tugging at his trousers, and once he realized he was being watched he sends you a quick glance and a friendly wave. Then scurrys inside. This is more common than one may think. Because you do not think about it, you go through all measures to avoid such heart tugging conflict. I'm sure the children and hoping to avoid daddys whispers tonight aswell. They may not be so lucky. The young girl is probably picturing your face hoping you will realize something is terribly wrong, hoping this will be the last night of torture as mommy is a sleep in bed. She heard sirines. but yet again as everyother night as she is about to be saved, they rush past her deep dark dungon of terror and deciet.. Sometimes I Wonder It seems everyday's just a perpetual battlefield yet when I claim my ground and prove I walk alone I'll always be reminded one person can stand for many voices.In a herd of burn outs that continually whine about the insuffientness of society only some will shy away from handing fame to more corporate companies thats will eventually *gasp* buy out your place of business landing you on your ass and looking for a diverse source of income too....They look painfully jaded from the truth of famine and political wars that will always leave hundreds of children in the path of oppression. But still they sit in front of the tube and think about doing something. Doing something is not planning. Planning is not doing something!...i'm sure all the children handed loaded weapons would love to do something too, but I'm sure they would pick a different option. Do you really think teaching every new generation more technical ways to drop a damn bomb will eventually sort its self out? Will you just look away when your children are barely four feet tall but are fighting for your future? Forget 2004-12-28 - 1:59 p.m. In this world what was once lost the faces now foundat everyones cost Here we go down the hole another black world, of that we know Through hearts torn of dignity, and oceans of tears your dreams have been sought, and your rectified fears This dark abyss, is not our own hold out your hand and we will show What once had been pure, now all innocence tossed aside, from the pain, everything lost In all this confusion, you are not alone through all the dark halls, and this was shown Try to ignore, all the lies you've been taught and everything you once knew, and everything you thought Close your eyes, wanting to hide vanish with the shadows, and let the pain subside. What a fucking mess Frusteration runs through my veins as I watch with distain and I try to forget everything I once knew and everything I once thought were true. The facade I once created for myself no longer exsists and all my statements were mistakes. It's no suprize when I drop my glass and break the dam of self perception. My nerves are shot and my scattered thoughts present no hope. Perpetual nothingness helps my fear of future or lack there of. It's a fucking kick in the head when we once had everything figured out, the dream was picture perfect. Now left in the dark I need to make it happen alone.... it's an impossible phase. binktop.. 2004-12-19 - 8:42 p.m. A thrashing sea of brutial lies, smashing through open windows and broken hearts, this man has no denial nor any loving embrace. It goes with out saying, that I can not stop to think. For one moment, of what I have done. For what one shall do will always seek consequences, and for the life of me I can not stop to think. About how much it hurts. He wont understand for he is blind in the eye of love. Love is only a three letter act of lust. In his eyes, I will only be added to his list. In mine it was ment to be. However the dream has not yet failed me, and I will continue to be prominant in my ways. In the end I hope he will see me, as more than...just fallacy? 2004-12-11 - 3:44 p.m. Simple things I can not control, it drives me insane that you don't know your role. Every pill, every line, every last hit that you endure makes me respect you just that much more. Everything that you do is non-sense, I want to rape you of your innocense. I don't want you to resent anything you do, I want our lives to intertwine, everything I do should affect you. I want to be your obsession, but your mind is not in my possession. I think you want him and not I, please tell me the truth and do not lie. .... this one was writen a long time ago.. I was going through some very hard and strange times. 2004-05-10 - 1:45 p.m. After everything that has happend I don't feel that anything is anybit different.I'm sad. I'm constantly depressed. Every second I have when I am not being bothered by the ignorant faces that surround me, I realize how bleak everything is. They are ignorant in the sense that they have no idea how I feel, how I think. Yet they reasure themselves that they do know. Somedays when I am constantly driven to the thoughts of something better, I just want to rip apart my skin. I become irritable and want to bash my head in. I try. I should feel something, I feel nothing. I find myself filled with emotion and holding back tears. Over anything.Over nothing. I feel stupid for failing. I feel worse for the pain of the people I love. If I had never failed the pain would be over. Forever. I don't think I will ever be happy with myself.It brings me down. How can I be happy when I don't believe life is anything more than a tradjic dream. A game. Knowing there is nothing much ahead of me aside from failing. It does not matter if I accomplish everything I had ever dreamed of. Knowing that there is no meaning is enough to fail myself. It can not be put into words of anykind. I just don't understand. Man has accomplished so much, or perhaps ruined a lot, but without happieness it's nothing. People in genral are happy, but when you are part of a lie how is one happy? I am over come with a sense of aggression against myself. Maybe there is not suppost to be a meaning. But fuck. People can accompilish all their goals, maybe they are even lucky to feel no pain through-out this game we call life, but after years of struggling you die and that is inevidable. It's bogus. I have so much that can't be answered. I feel like it's a scam. One may say the meaning of life is to experience, to learn...but this is life.The universe...There is so much we will never know and it drives me insane. The world is shit because man ruined it. Everything should have been left natural. Not made into an unspeakable facade. If there was nothing, no earth no universe at all would there we nothing, how could there be nothing. It goes so deep. I wish sometimes that I did die. I feel so much, but it hurts so much, but I suppose this is the way of life, no? I am so confused withthe presence of my being alive. I like to think I have a meaning, but I can't find it myself. People around me have no idea how I think, or what I think of. It would help if I didn't trip over my words when I actually try to talk to people. I feel so lost, so isolated from my surroundings, my family, my friends, my self. ~never pretend to be, nothing you'll ever see. Pain will set you free-Oh fuck it your not me* Shithead stacie
I really liked "It Makes No Difference...". Just the beginning, really. It grabbed my interest. I think you have interesting ideas. Perhaps you could flesh them out more? I liked "Fallacy?" also.
