he looks at her
and she recoils
her bright, nervous eyes
scanning his body
as if she has a
test on it
and she must memorize.
she takes shallow breaths,
teeny, tiny breaths
unable to bring the air
back to her lungs
she doesn't want this
but what can she do
but agree
in exchange for love?
he does not smile
with his eyes
instead he falls down on her
causes her pain
and she closes her eyes
in grief
as he takes her away

You will have a moon-faced child who is good at keeping secrets. She will be a piece of the the sea, ruled by the sun, and afraid of the dark. She will start to explore and never stop. More than anything, she will be frightened of being settled, getting stuck. She will say, "No, I will not", but at what cost? 

I have terrible nightmares. I dream that I am running, trying to defend my truths against immoral powers. In my sleep, systems corrupted by the complexity of control try to steal my simplicity, try to make me dirty and compliant, things I will never be. In my dreams I am persecuted time and again for things that make no sense to me. It is a feeling of choking claustrophobia, worse than any coffin. The injustice insults my soul, and I wake with heaving lungs and an aching heart.

I am obsessed with knowing myself. Maybe if I can understand that much, the rest of this will start to make sense. We'll see.

I worry. I worry about dentists. Pharmacists. Business marketing majors. The dispassionate masses. People content to do things for money. For little bits of green paper that aren't particularly attached to anything but false notions of power. I have no religion to reassure me that it will all even out on some other plane. I have here, I have now. I will not fritter and waste the hours that make up the dull day, I will not be made to be afraid.

It hurts my heart to see how easily my brothers and sisters accept the notion that we are destined to spend most of the precious hours of our existences working at jobs we don't care about just to stay afloat in a drowning economy, and how easily judgments are cast upon those who don't conform to such broken logic. It's easier to judge than it is to think. Thinking is so uncomfortable.

It makes me want to scream, to rant. Don't they see? We pave the way for each other to be lazy. We have created technology that we use to save time so that we have more time to spend on the important things, like trying to figure out how to get our hands on more money, so that we can buy more things. We aren't paid to create, repair, discover or teach. We are paid to entertain, not question. We survive by serving. And that's a little too close to indentured servitude, wouldn't you say? Planned obsolescence. Wage slavery. Stockholm syndrome. Electoral College. War on poverty. From the makers of Agent Orange, corn! And no, you can't heat up your burrito, you think you're fucking royalty? That's right baby, keep voting. You have a voice. You are free.

Our entire system is obsolete if the air we breath, the water we drink, and the food we eat are killing us because we've been so busy saving time that we forgot to remember not to poison ourselves. We create disease, and then spend lots of time and money "treating" it. Treating and treating and treating, fixing things by breaking things. Quality of life be damned, we want to live forever! It increases our GDP, don't you see?? When it's my time to go, plug me into a wall for a few years and then bury me in a big fucking box to make sure that the nutrients in my body won't feed the earth. Spend a lot of money on all of that. I will look down on you lovingly from my cloud, stroke my chin and proudly ponder my legacy. The end goal, it seems, is to die old and rich and fat, surrounded by things. To leave no mark of love on anything, not even our own hearts. It hurts my heart to see my people so removed from their selves and their truths that they think they are right.

So much of what I see around me hurts my heart.

One of my friends graduated today,
But as I came home bad thoughts lingered.
They brought me back to you,
And it made me realize how torn up I still am.

I don’t know exactly what I need.
If it is time, let it be…
Everyone I talk to about this says that it takes time…
Well, I have been waiting and time has been ticking and sadly I’m still here.

I don’t know what to do.
I have found another,
But the seeds of doubt and uncertainty that you planted are starting to grow.
And on the horizon, I can visualize history repeating itself.

I don’t know…
Maybe closure would have made this a little more bearable.
Instead of finding out that you’ve moved on, while I was stuck.
How fast one can move from love?
Was it love…?
I certainly thought it was, but maybe I was wrong.

I want this to go away so I can cherish the one I’m with.
But it’s not going away…
The only thing I do know is that it seems like this pain is here to stay.

- j.m.

So you're saying you're proud and
Grateful to have so much freedom, opportunity and wealth
Well, I'm not.
Sociocentrism is an ugly, unnatural state
Everything we have takes away from someone else
We try to pretend there's no connection, that the plight of others is cause by their own failing
That we are deserving
Convinced that this is all here for us
We take and take and take
But every terror we inflict on anything "else" is a terror upon the self
We protect our so called civil liberties with wage slavery, chemical abuse, and ecological terrorism
Profit baby, profit über ales
Well congratulations to us
This is nationalism at its finest
No, I'm not fucking proud of it
If you want to take credit, be my guest
Just ask India about policies of profit over regulations, about denim and dye and death
Ask Mexico about farming, their take on the "Fair Trade Act"
Ask the rainforest if it remembers what it was like to have trees
Try to find an Arawak to ask anything
Ask 63 countries what it feels like to have a US military base keeping watch
And what would happen if another country tried to build a base on this soil
Or maybe ask why you never learned shit about any other country
Much less about your own
Back in History class
Survival of the fittest, you say?
A dog eat dog world?
Alright, let's play
This country is overrun by dogs, that's true
But honey, we're not eating any other dogs
We're eating poison and calling it food
While our leaders give Monsanto handjobs under the table
We are "the world's leading nation" and we're dropping like flies
No, not dead
Just into hospital beds and prison cells
Our country is filled with poverty, racism, violence, and terror
Not to mention obesity heart disease depression anxiety and PTSD
We're over-medicated malnourished and spiritually starved
We're pissed off at a whole lot of bullshit
That means nothing in the scheme of anything
Fully engaged in the myth of a two-party system
Even though most of what we see and hear is merely distraction
Thank you, media, all 6 of you big beautiful monoliths
I'm so lucky I have the opportunity to be informed!
We're a nation divided by details
While our leaders run in circles pouting fat fingers at each other
Engrossed in this thing we call "politics"
Highly effective
I'm really glad you're proud
They say ignorance is bliss
But I think it's more like a shiny polyester suit
Holding together a parasite infested mess
Sitting in a recliner after a hard days work of trying to stay afloat on a mountain of debt in a drowning economy
Bottles of medication on the table, GMOs in the fridge
Quietly doing what they're told
Never wondering why
Falling asleep to the glow of the TV whispering fear and terror, us and them, buy and buy and buy
The sweet purr of "freedom"

You speak such sweet words

But

Between the
'I love you's
And the
'You're beautiful's

We both know what you really want

one of those mornings
where I am thinking of you baby (scoffs)
where I want to lay on the floor with my legs in the air
where I want to smoke cigarettes as skinny as teenage legs
where I want to wear dark sunglasses that spell out

C-O-O-L C-A-T

and these shades would allow me to be callous
and my apathy and I could make snide remarks

about you,
you fucker

Boy, I hope you can smell my contempt over there.
You deserve it.

I don't dislike many people, but if I could do it,
I would tell you that I look upon your character
with the same adoration that I would hold for a
parasite-infested rotting mountain of rat feces.

Which is to say not a lot.
Which is to say I dislike you, immensely.

Still
I'm retaining some dignity here,
somewhat,
by not wasting my time caring about a little rat like you.

It's just one of those mornings,
where I want to stop knowing you, and wish you wouldn't know me
where I want to take Xanax until a stabbing wouldn't hurt me, physically.
where I want to cry or something, but you see, I can't feel a thing, for you.

You don't deserve my crocodile tears.

I have nothing for you, I am fresh out of fucks to give.

I don't regret anything since I learned a great deal.
I wouldn't say I was heartbroken, just exasperated
by your contrived and un-authentic dumbass-ery.

I am better than you, you stupid infantile rat,
I laugh when I remember that every morning.

I’m the lonely one,
And all I ever do is try.
I’m the abandoned,
And all I ever do is sigh.
I’m the one who stands alone, and all I ever do
Is wish, is pray, is hope one day
That I’ll be someone too.

I’m the hollow one,
And I only ever try to please.
I’m the mistaken,
And I only ever try to see.
I’m the one who cries alone, yet all I want to do
Is love, and share, and hope one day
That I’ll be loved back too.

So what if I am crazy, like I would need to know.
People say The words I write and cry are cursed.
How would they know that? They don't even know me....
Maybe they are right. I only write for the loss of love and peace.
I have done things that the two lords of the world would not approve of.
The lies, the tears and the lost hope for a brighter day.
I just want it to end.
I am called crazy from my own mother, she says i'm a sinner.

Thats all for now ( I think )

I want to break down the walls of vanity it is the cause of my destitution I have the mindset of a man who has lost all sanity and self worth walking along the needles of self doubt the pain I feel upon my feet the unforgiving object piecing my reality creating an imperfect image in an inhumane existence is my life bound by the creeping feelings of isolating thoughts or is hope just above the horizon shining with a brilliance that man can only begin to comprehend