If time is relative then why are we moving at all?
I look around
and to me we all seem to be standing still...
Frozen in our civic and social duties.
Like watching a game show,
Or buying a frozen pizza.
...dressing up to go to church.

We become frozen in these moments and they end up defining who we are instead of the other way around.

Maybe the world is in an event horizon and I am stuck outside watching everyone seem to move in no direction at all.
Yet I see myself as well.
Sitting completely still and becoming a mannequin...

I would say that we are moving towards a black hole,
******* the light and life out of us,
but that would be foolish.

Because we are the black hole.
We steal the life and desire.
Hopes and dreams
from ourselves and throw our souls away for a paycheck and death certificate.

If I could find the warehouse of man and stumble upon the assembly line, I would shoot the foreman and break the machine.

Then

I

would

burn

that

building

to

the






ground...

I want to fight and read and drink and ****.

I want to stand once again on the beach just far out enough to where there is nothing in my sight but the sea.

I want to fall so far that I don't think I can ever stand up again.
And then I want to laugh, stand my *** up, and climb out.

I want to write and breathe and laugh and die.

But most of all,

I want to feel alive.




God ******.

A Fool’s a gutter trap of drink,
Where wenches and songs a flowin’!
For none can even stop and think,
With “Hey **’s” and music a blowin’!
A Fight, a brawl! A ****** nose!
Men knocking their heads to the ground!
Then laughter and shouts, oh so it goes!
Brotherhood and joy all around!

Oh men, we are so foolishly wrought!
A cry, a laugh, a smash, a groan, a grin!
Why the hell would I get on my knees and pray
When my heart longs for me to proudly stand in sin?!

We smashed the door and jumped the fence,
Sweet Jesus! The wind it was cold.
A snicker, a snip, nevermore were we tense!
The drink it was taking its hold.
We grabbed our tools and made our mark
We will never try to resist!
Why should I strain to contain my bark?!
This ******* world will know I exist!

Oh men, we are so foolishly wrought!
A cry
A laugh
A smash
A groan
A grin!
Why the hell would we get on our knees and pray
When my heart longs for me to proudly stand in sin!

He said, "I want to fly in the sky."
His father said, "Just not too high."

He said, "I want to go outside and play"
The teacher said, "When your math test gets at least an A."

He said, "I think this world is more than we know."
The preacher said, "The bible is the only truth to be told."

He must have said a lot before...


...but I don't hear him anymore

I am you.
I am your shadow.
You are mine.
A stone unearthed in this frozen ground
Covered in snow.
Gazing at the flower growing up, surrounded
By life
And sunlight abundantly.
The stone whimpers in the cold.
Dancing figures in the twilight of mere existence.
Twirling in a haze of endless color and ceaseless charisma.
Stillness in the night.
The biting flogging of time and circumstance
Detached
From all inside and without.
Being comatose inside a tomb made of ice and desire.
Waiting,
Watching,
Weeping.
The rock, he twitches in the uncomfortable onslaught.
The flower loses a petal. In the fullness of life
She
Lowers her head in
Invisible agony. Torn by the choices
Made without reason.
Loneliness.
Time stands still.
The eyes of many are unaccustomed
To
The eyes of the few and the broken.
The grins of the ignorant shine like
Stars.
Glistening in the proverbial
Conundrum.
The rock and the flower split open
After, eternity follows.
The figures, mere candlelight,
Embrace and kiss.
Together.
Forever.
Nevermore hesitant to the desires which
Overwhelm and
Breathe purpose.
Two flames become one.
Meaning uncovered.
Intertwined lovers.
Breathing in shudders.
Blind to all others.
I am you.

Apathy is not the tree

in which to build a strong levy

to keep you dry and keep you free

from treacherous and clever seas.



Understanding that which was can save us all from that which is,

and that which is, is nothing more than that which was.



Mere reality, relentless poverty, destructive novelty, laughable atrocity.

Admitted scarcity, lovely society, gentle frailty, and caring propriety.



Understanding all that we are is all that we choose.

All that we choose is all that we see.

All that we see is all that can be.

All that can be is remaining free.



Skeletons can hang in places without leaving fainter traces in all the billion windswept faces.

We are all the same and we are all different. We all are hidden in plain sight, bright as day, and black as night.



CUTTHEMOFF!

BURNITDOWN!THROWITOFF!BURYITDEEPWITHINTHEGROUND!

­

Open your eyes to something more than yourself. Heartache is felt everywhere and nowhere. A hand that ticks on a clock that doesn't exist. Freedom is everything. Freedom from harsh demons inside yourself. We are the nails that are driven in our skulls. We are the woe and we are the fear.

We are hell

We are heaven.

We are love.

We are hate.

We are everything and we are nothing.



We are the ships that ferry us into the abyss of eternity. We have our own passage ways and our own light that guides us.

We are our own and we are not afraid.

Wounded fragments of shattered dreams stain the pavement and sidewalks while we all move in a pattern unknown and unseen.
Poised perfectly in the sky are the ends of strings that pull us along, and we follow, apathetic to the vile disgrace of not being in control.
The sun neither rises nor falls, we circle around to have him stare at us with curious and diminished eyes.
The stars wink and shine like diamonds in a fog, long after their reign has ended and their souls have departed.

Half forgotten synapses and faded photographs are the pinpoint of realization in the half written tragedy and comedy of man.

Can we feel the shattered slice into our feet? Do we drink of the cup of color or our we drowning ourselves in a cesspool of grey?
Frayed and patched we are.
The wolf is ignorant while the sparrow is enlightened. They chase each other. Dream by dream, thought by thought, reaction by action, into the depths of our souls. Neither can triumph over the other and perhaps that is the design. Blueprints hidden carefully by an architect far beyond comprehension of morality and sustenance are the makings of an encore, a time for roses after the curtain falls.
For none can know the beauty and mystery behind the short circuit of synapse and the ceasing of beats.
Perception of dimensions beyond us our limited and jaded, causing lies disguised as truth. Fear of the mystery causes fear of us all. We are all that is here. We are the tourniquet and we are the axe.

Oh child of wonder… Oh traveler of distance. See us all.

We are two sides of a spinning coin. We are everything and we are nothing. Perhaps the strings will be cut. We will overcome the misfortune of breathing in that which is farthest from the truth. Be the crack in the pattern. Be the narrow path.

Be better than us.