Some days i get trapped
In my own head. I might
Stay there for a while, and relish
On the fact that my insanity
Can run rampant and my
Conscious decisions cannot combat
The thick cloud of confusion.
I think so much that thinking
Is now obsolete. When I don't have
A soul to speak to, I engulf myself
With willful depression.
A mental cocoon to protect
My butterfly, even if it has no wings.
But that's only on some days...
Nov 11, 2015
Nov 11, 2015 at 11:26 AM UTC
I think too much. The fact that I think I think too much means I definitely think too much.
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
one by one the
people go away.
Single-file. like skipping
stones that bounce on
the water, only to sink
back to the bottom.
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 7:00 PM UTC
We are all nothing ,you know.
Just a bunch of wiggles. We know
not how or why, we just wiggle.
The words and symbols we use
to describe the impossibility
of what is going on around us
will never amount to anything.
They exist only in minds, the
universe connects much beyond
anything we can see or think.
Or how we consider thinking
something we do, and our heartbeat
is something that happens to us.
How much of me is me?
How much experience does it take,
for me to be me?
The answer is, of course, infinite.
Time is only relevant in the
Eternal Present, which is how
we experience the world,
... but often forget it.
May 7, 2014
May 7, 2014 at 1:13 AM UTC
We cling to these symbols
on paper, in tongue,
behaving as if they
affect our experience.
These feelings are
so real- the words ****
the life right out of them.
I don't really know what
"love" is, but i know when i
look at you and your mystique, i
can see the whole universe staring
back at me. There are simply
no words or symbols for that. But
if that isn't their "love", then i feel a
deep sorrow for the people who say
they are in love, and stop there.
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
I wanted to ask how you
were doing today. I'm sure you
didn't notice. but you were
trapped in my head.
I asked you to leave and you
said "You can't help what you
feel. Just don't **** it up."
So I will stay mouth shut, eyes
absorbing every inch of nature's
perfection. And hear your laugh
rather than the world's cry. I know
we were meant to cross paths, but like
they say, soul mates are not necessarily
for life. They are the people who awaken
you to your own truth. To be shown true love
by someone you could not love yourself,
a true silver lining.
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 12:02 AM UTC
It is easy to understand that everything is connected.
Just a matter of perception, I guess.
If you stand on the beach, you will experience the ocean as waves crashing independently of each other onto the shore.
It would be foolish to assume that because there are individual waves,
the waves are not part of the same ocean.
In exactly the same way, life happens in many different "waves,"
but everything is part of the same ocean.
In other words, you can't have yourself without
everything else. There has to be a distinction.
So yes YOU experience the world, but if
the world wasn't here, there would be
nothing to experience.
So cheer up! Everything is working together
and you are the universe experiencing itself!
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 9:13 PM UTC
These symbols come out
as I hit these buttons. But they
could never grasp the way I feel
about you. Even IF they could,
I would choose not to speak, for I
would want these feelings all to myself.
Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 8:59 PM UTC
I can feel the sadness,
the disinterest. the choking
and distortion of this illusion.
The empty eyes they all give me.
Sometimes i try and look for
someone that means it. But
nonetheless, the same is in all
of us. Fear of not knowing, or
denial of the inability to understand.
I just want to say- Wake up!
this is it. Every moment in time has
led up to this one. So why be afraid?
Death is such a painful thought,
inconceivable. but simply ask one
"where were you before you were born?"
And all the sudden their eyes light up.
We were everywhere and are everywhere, all the time.
This is the good news.
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 1:06 AM UTC
Someone once told me that
language is art. No way that
Bukowski could be a
Picasso. But I think I may have
been wrong. The words give the
collage of ideas a meaning. Purpose.
Art is purpose.
At least, if you paint with words.
Feb 13, 2014
Feb 13, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC