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Insufficient Sep 2014
Im not so poetic
Seem to trip up on my words
They came stumbling down the stairs,
And-- up and out the door
Landed right at your feet
Delivered so pathetically
But that's no rare thing
Your presence, it what you do to me

Made you (one) crack a smile
So you stayed for a while
And (two) sentences later I was staring back at the ground
So you (three) held my hand
And I finally I understand . . .

That you just ask me to be me, (four)
And nothing more
Insufficient Oct 2014
I bought a new phone
I started to restore it
But then I realized--
I didn't want to put memories of you back on my phone
Something about starting new,

Helps me better forget about you.
Insufficient Oct 2014
The old fable covers a doctrine ever new and sublime; that there is One Man, — present to all particular men only partially, or through one faculty; and that you must take the whole society to find the whole man. Man is not a farmer, or a professor, or an engineer, but he is all. Man is priest, and scholar, and statesman, and producer, and soldier. In the divided or social state, these functions are parcelled out to individuals, each of whom aims to do his stint of the joint work, whilst each other performs his. The fable implies, that the individual, to possess himself, must sometimes return from his own labor to embrace all the other laborers. But unfortunately, this original unit, this fountain of power, has been so distributed to multitudes, has been so minutely subdivided and peddled out, that it is spilled into drops, and cannot be gathered. The state of society is one in which the members have suffered amputation from the trunk, and strut about so many walking monsters, — a good finger, a neck, a stomach, an elbow, but never a man.

Man is thus metamorphosed into a thing, into many things. The planter, who is Man sent out into the field to gather food, is seldom cheered by any idea of the true dignity of his ministry. He sees his bushel and his cart, and nothing beyond, and sinks into the farmer, instead of Man on the farm. The tradesman scarcely ever gives an ideal worth to his work, but is ridden by the routine of his craft, and the soul is subject to dollars. The priest becomes a form; the attorney, a statute-book; the mechanic, a machine; the sailor, a rope of a ship.
Excerpt from an Oration delivered before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, at Cambridge, August 31, 1837 by Emerson
Insufficient Sep 2014
Never ending marathon
Its a struggle just to keep breathing
existential asthmatic
Internal conflict

They can't see what's going on
The pain I dread
Ink marks on my brain
Addicted writer in my head

I want to escape--
Reside is my safe haven instead
But it's hard to run away
When everything you're running away from is in your head
Insufficient Oct 2014
I write in hopes to see the lightning bolt yellow.
I feel accomplished if it lights up at least once
Insufficient Sep 2014
Music
            Makes
                        The
                                Pain
                                          Fade
                                          More
                                As
                        The
            Volume
Rises
Insufficient Oct 2014
We look up at the same stars and see such different things.
Insufficient Oct 2014
Relax yourself,
As I digg through your mind
Scroll down the pages of your spine
Reading every word and thought on your face like a book
Stumbled Upon you then tumbled onto your looks--IGuess
I'm linked into you
You're my one and only interest

Will you follow me?
Insufficient Oct 2014
I'm not like you
I think outside the box
Just a little different
I'm not lost

Outsider,--
Looking in, has its cost
Has its benefits
In my opinion
I would have my store open on Sunday
I'm sorry I just like to profit

Don't look down on me
You're not any better using Downy
I think Tide does a hell of a job
We'll all soon get swept by the ocean currents prob--
--ably

So don't dimiss your ideas because they're different
But embrace it because it's brilliant
And magnificent
All those haters are insignificant

Don't let them steal your shine
Rise above and realize

How much better you are without them ..
Insufficient Oct 2014
You gotta understand that I'm hard to understand
I am not the same person at 10am and 10pm.
Insufficient Oct 2014
High o'er the mountains
And the majestic pines
Come the Giants
Black and gray
Bearing waterfalls within thy self
Cooling the atmosphere.
It's a rainy day
Insufficient Sep 2014
I slept in the darkness, it was lonely
And it was silent without you
One look out my window
I traced your face in the stars above
But the day chased them away
What is this love?
I don't feel the same
And you forgot our love
Like you forget a daydream

And we all fade to gray

— The End —