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M'thew Dec 2012
people always believe
there are two sides to everything.
but it always seems
both sides are the same.
glass half full, glass half empty:
the glass is still half something!
they are the same to me.
no one seems to think the glass is twice as big as it needs to be.
the glass is what we do
what the glass holds is what we are capable of doing.
the individual, the society, the government, and the world
does more than what we can sustainably keep doing.
will we ever cut back?
M'thew Dec 2012
wait! no i don't, i am typing this online.
M'thew Dec 2012
form is something i have never enjoyed
freedom is something that can only be
taught like math or the works of sigmund freud
i will enjoy form when the blind can see
why have i not left if i dont want to
stay away from my body my mind goes
i have yet to find a meaning have you
is there more meaning in my thoughts or toes
another shot of *** will do the trick
and a puff of *** will get me so high
it is my body not my mind thats sick
it wont even let me fly through the sky
if i really cared what you ever said
i would drink then smoke then blow off your head
M'thew Jan 2012
What is the meaning of Life?

Does that not state there is in fact a meaning to our lives? Are we not conceived with a blank slate and let our actions be guided by the environment we have become accustomed to or is there a true predestined meaning to our lives? Is it neither?  We are nothing more than what we are and nothing less than what we are not.

What is my purpose?

Purposelessness.

What is God?

God is what leads me in the direction that I am heading and keeps me away from where I have not gone. God is not in the endless skies watching my every action. God does not know me. I don’t know God. God is not a being. God is not energy. God is not matter; God is not made of protons, neutrons, electrons or photons. God exists. We made God exist. We also made God disappear.
What is reality?

The tangible and physical perceptions that we have keep in our memories. As soon as we forget, reality disintegrates. When we remember, reality regenerates. Reality is not constant.

Why am I here?

Spontaneity

How did I get here?

I managed to avoid every other place than where I am. If I averted where I am now I would be someplace else. I would be any place else. Am I happy? Yes. Am I upset? Yes. This experience is beautiful yet full of dismay and I experience comfort but sorrow for only being able to experience a small sliver of the universe. But this is my sliver of the universe. I love this sliver of the universe and I would fight to the death to save this tiny space for anybody else to experience existence the way I do.

Who and What am I?

I am human, **** sapient, ****, hominine, hominid, primate, Mammalia, Chordate, and Animal. I am an Earthling from the Milky Way. I am what I am labeled, by others and by myself. I am defined by everything I am not and I change every day. I am not constant.

What will happen when I die?

Transcendence from existence; Appearance into eternal rest. My body will provide nutrients to the world, my memories will be lost. I will no longer be, except in the minds of those who knew me and in the evidence I leave behind. I’ll be lost forever, the evidence will soon disappear. I will be over, the universe will go on. That’s all I could ever ask for.
M'thew Oct 2011
I.
Would I be as content
              if I realized my purpose?
To be told why my existence is so?
To never have a choice
              following a predestined path?
Would my eyes glow the same
              if I knew the rules to this purposeless game?
                               Would I not go-

                                                            ­Insane?

Why seek infinite time?
               One would be blind to not define
                                all time as infinite

               but is there not a limit?

To comprehend everything
               leads to understand nothing
but to accomplish just
                                some things
               ensures we are just like everything else.

                                 Ever so temporary,
                                           I sit and I breath
                                                     awaiting the moment
                                                          ­     I can no longer

and fall endlessly into the pocket of time
               where all is forgotten
                                 with no greater meaning.

We creatures of want
               are unsatisfied with anything less than
                                                            ­    everything;
To each man
               the sun shines on his sunny day;
               the bugs bite his skin sharply;
               the egg yolk,
                                 from rebellious outbursts of teenage angst,
                                 must be scraped off his car;
               those who reside in his home
                                 his neighborhood
                                         his town
                                                 his country
                                                         his world
                                  are somehow given a relation to him
                                                             ­     by him.

How does one man come to posses so much?
               Why must everything be in relation to him,
                                  can nothing exist without him?

Without I, all can exist
               just as functional as before.
Without you, I can exist
               just as happily as I have grown used to.

Our love, a passion I've felt for nobody else,
               the one who unlocked who I truly am,
               introduced me to my real self,
Is just as disposable as
               the plastic fork and unfinished meal
               that rot in my weekly Wednesday waste.

My mother and father
               sisters and brothers
                                family and friends
have formed the only life I know
but without them,
               I would exist just the same.

Think not this is an excuse for self-indulgence
               and rejection of close connections,

Embrace all who reach for your heart
               and show each tourist of your mind
                                a part of which none else have seen.

Roam this world, look not at it as yours
               but be the world,
                                assimilate with existence,
                                commemorate self
                                             as you would commemorate all else

and let ego, if it is there, harm not mind.
M'thew Oct 2011
Feel free to self-govern;
          rebellions have shown consistency of
                                           bringing more rebellions
but does this actually bring change?

     Boston lead to Bastille
          ****** Sunday to Bolshevik
Each a milestone for this
                                           sophisticated species.

Accomplished aliases of these turning points
           were the pioneers of a never ending cycle:

discontent, revolution, reconstruction, new order.
                                                          ­                            
To control brings demise
To revolt changes tides

            and as long as the moon circumnavigates the sky,

                                            the tides will predictably relapse.
M'thew Oct 2011
Eternal darkness unveils what goes unnoticed by light.
Waves predictably roll in to shore
Masked by the mystery of night.
They say lightning never strikes the same place twice
Well who said they were right.
Fields of dunes breed due to the oceans feed
And although nothing can be seen
Everything is in my blind sight.

Whether the weather burns or sleets upon the masses
Following the patterns, as they’ve done in the past
The world will go on, with death in red rain
But this worlds beauty helps heal the pain.

Washed ashore in a primal, unmerciful game of fate,
The joyous jellies of the sea inhabit a cruel domain.
What can pick and choose what thrives and what dies
And if He’s surprised by the question should I be afraid?
Cumulative answers spawn unanswered connections
Making what last was asked seem quaint.
Freedom blows in this bold breeze
Are the birds happier in the trees or the sea?
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