Einstein was right:
Imagination may take you everywhere
But right now I am destination-based
And the road to the pharmacy can take me
From A to Plan B.
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 1:35 AM UTC
I spent so long thinking i knew what i wanted
or at least where i wanted to be
only now i see, i didn't know me at all
So I spent so long trying to find what i wanted
Or at least where I wanted to be
I still can only see, I don't know me at all
It used to be I was what everyone though
Barely more than what met the ear or eye
A bad caricature of a headstrong rebel
A façade for a fool with no dreams
You can only spend so much time finding what you want
Not knowing where you want to be
Before you finally see
You're just like me
And I don't know me at all
Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 1:16 AM UTC
I'm not going to tell you there is no God.
But, I AM going to let you in on a little secret.
God believes in the faithful.
God stopped believing in me,
the exact moment I stopped believing in him.
I was 6 years old.
Nobody told me much about God.
just to pray every night
and thank him for what you have got.
I called out for him to make it okay again,
and he returned my calls with silence and dialtones.
I wish I knew then
what I know now.
God is not a wish granting factory.
I wish someone had told me sooner
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 12:42 AM UTC
Did you know there are 12 year old kids in America who can't spell the name of the teacher they are having *** with?
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 12:41 AM UTC
You wonder when you will stop bleeding.
On the night of the accident, there was so much blood loss that they didn't think you'd make it.
You still wonder how you made it.
You haven't bled like that since and the wounds have scarred over but
whenever you drive past where it happened,
whenever you see an icy patch, or a blue Honda,
the scar tears a bit.
You've tried to avoid those things, but you can't forever.
And so you wonder when the scar will fully heal.
You wonder when you will stop bleeding.
Jan 12, 2015
Jan 12, 2015 at 12:35 AM UTC
I see lovers
holding hands and giving each other the look that can only be described as
"the look"
because only those who are out of love are bitterly aware of the sickeningly admiring gaze that one partner gives to the other when they speak
and only those who are in love are oblivious to the fact that they are giving the look
And I see friends,
friends in love with friendship
friends in love with being with each other
in love with the adventure and the memories
and the comfort and familiarity that comes with knowing each other like the back of your hand
I see individuals
completely, and utterly in love with themselves
the kind of arrogance that is almost admirable
in love with their passion, their ambition
with their goals and their futures
in love with the potential they know they have and in love with the hope that maybe one day,
they'll be an All-Star
or a politician
or a beautiful poet
or a parent
I see all of these people who are in love and I wonder, are these people really as in love as they claim to be?
And if so, when is it my turn to be in love?
May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 9:39 PM UTC
I'm not stubborn;
I just like to do whatever I want,
exactly how and when I want to,
without any compromise whatsoever,
and no
I don't need any of your help.
What?
Apr 27, 2014
Apr 27, 2014 at 5:35 AM UTC
A Bottle Full Of Whiskey
*He used a bottle full of whiskey
To dull the memories of his past
Knowing that the pain he felt
Would not fit into a glass
As he set there on his barstool
In his eyes I saw regret
He talked about the life he lived
How he wished he had it back
Would drink straight from the bottle
Just to make the numbness last
The story of his lonely life
He would tell to all who ask
He talked about lifes lessons
The mistakes that he had made
Said he lived with regrets
For things he cannot change
Thought the view from the bottle
Would help to make his life more clear
But the bottle got the best of him
And wasted all his years
He used a bottle full of whiskey
To dull the memories of his past
Knowing that the pain he felt
Would not fit into a glass*
Carl Joseph Roberts
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 9:07 AM UTC
each man must realize
that it can all disappear very
quickly:
the cat, the woman, the job,
the front tire,
the bed, the walls, the
room; all our necessities
including love,
rest on foundations of sand -
and any given cause,
no matter how unrelated:
the death of a boy in Hong Kong
or a blizzard in Omaha ...
can serve as your undoing.
all your chinaware crashing to the
kitchen floor, your girl will enter
and you'll be standing, drunk,
in the center of it and she'll ask:
my god, what's the matter?
and you'll answer: I don't know,
I don't know ...
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 9:05 AM UTC
My heart like the ocean
Ebbs & flows with the presence of the moon
Aye, the inconstant moon
In all it's silvered graces
Shimmers only of it's own accord;
Like yourself
While you light the sky
Life's burdens are but jetsam
cast away
The ship of my soul is lightened
to freely follow loves wind
where ever it does catch my sails
But in your absence
I am lost on a tumultuous sea
Likely to sink
In the wake of this tempest
I seek solace in the stars
But flotsam am I,
As I know you shine not for me
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC