She has flawed carved into her arm, just above her wrist veins
wonders to herself, how she can escape her pain,
feels justified...in the sadness that she calls her own,
I told her, it isn't wise, to make this place your home...

Black and White photos, she's in her room head down,  
deep mind state, like an artist, she feels that within her image she has found,
A way to project that she is deep,
I smile faintly and whisper, whatever helps you sleep...  

Sadness is a ball and chain, and life is just a game, but when theres sunshine outside, its a pity to claim that all you see is rain,

I've never felt that it is deep, or particularly difficult, to cut oneself off, to cut oneself out, or...to cut oneself...

Much more difficult to wade into the sea of madness that is the collective human experience and proudly proclaim, I do this for me, I do this for you, I choose to labour towards happiness, because the sadness isn't true,

They say the truth is an ugly *****, and lies are her beautiful sister... she never looked so lovely as when she was crying, I swear it was so hard to resist her...

But the tears were the lie and now here is the ugly truth...life is full of love, if you cant connect, perhaps you should investigate why, and if the reason is that your sadness somehow gives you a feeling that you have a monopoly on the truth...well then... i say to you...

99% of what we go through is positive
1% is negative
and this is common to everyone, who has ever lived
you ask me what hidden condescension my eyes hide when I gaze at you,
its because all that i have said to you is true...
and you have chosen to focus on the 1%...
the reason why...is the only thing that isn't evident

This is the viral solstice and I am liberty’s gambler.
What would I give to taste the fresh air of freedom?

Anything.

Thaw-out that space-cold hope and puncture me – please.
God blesses the poets to write of such miracles.

My name is Erin
and i was *****
at the age of 7

it has taken me
14 years of my life
for those 13 words to escape
my hollow mouth

the only questions i come to now
is why
why lock me in that room
why take everything from me
my innocence
my purity
my childhood

in that room
where my family trusted you
where i trusted you
the night terrors i have to this day
still haunt my mind

like a never ending
drive in movie that plays
over
and
over
only the moon in the night sky
isnt made to be found here
there is no light in these terrors

i cant sleep this time of year
because every time i do
its you
in that room
locking the door
shutting the windows
******* me
yelling at me
every single night
i close my eyes

it has taken me 14 years
to accept the fact that i was taken by you
i have been numb ever since
left in the dust
rotting away at the core
thinking i was nothing
thinking i deserved nothing
because you took everything

but not anymore
i will recover from this
i am strong enough
i believe in myself
i believe in my own happiness
and i promsie
that when i have children one day
i will never ever let them rot at the core
i will find happiness
the darkness will not take over this time

What I love about Star Trek isn’t the plots or even the characters. It’s their casual, daily use of fantastic technologies (think replicators) - for them, the ordinary. It mirrors our own banal use of magic-like wireless, google searches and air travel.
We are marvelous monkeys.

I’m a teenager. I am new and agog - Jesus, I have a lot to learn. How are the many marvels that elevate our lives actually made? The millions of cars, the fuel distribution systems, our skyscrapers. Who thought of all this?
We’re marvelous monkeys.

We can almost cheat death - I saw Marilyn Monroe on TV last night.
It wasn't the real star - just the image of her purring sexuality. The her without the messy adopted-child neuroses, chemical dependencies, loneliness and deeper longings. But it's early days - her DNA is lying around here somewhere.
We’re marvelous monkeys.

It's too early for the past
music takes forever
too bad it's not last
ions and molecules I didn't ask
43 feet above the floor
my ferris wheel of a task
Je n'aime tu
puis mange parce-que j'ai faim
Can we move to creative writing?
public static void main(String [] args )
public String want;
private boolean love?;

You can twist the way a man sees the world.
Do you think that sounds ridiculous?
What if you did it over time with subtlety and diligence?

The audience is largely uneducated, so remind them of their impotence; tell them any other source of facts must be regarded with suspiciousness.

Whisper to them over breakfast and slowly introduce corrosive dissonance; outright lie to them at dinner,salting in some truth for spicy antithesis.

Those who run the country are up to something mischievous; their lives, their fine America, have been eroding with precipitance.

Remember empowered yesterdays with a sad and tearful wistfulness; twist the needs and rights of others with pernicious lies and maliciousness.

Invest their government with conspiracy and its policies with wickedness. Remind your audience that freedom was torn from kings by well-armed militias.

Introduce the savior as a shining instrument of religiousness; defend his faults as small and frivolous and his right to rule as unambiguous.

When shocking reality dares assert itself, denials must be vicious and officious.

A rescue mission must be launched and certainly they must be participants; banners from the gift shop will form a team identity and a certain moral equivalence.

The leader will whip the angry crowd, stoking resentment with fabricated incidents, swearing, “I will be with you on this great crusade and you will be my instruments”

As the mob storms off he will slink away; he was only there for stimulus.

Hear the old republic creak as the President flexes his insolence; he’s seen that no blame can touch him, so he’s filled with proud ambivalence.

What will it take to rein him in? What kind of obvious stimulant, with thousands already dying every day and our society marbled with brittleness?

Hello again
nagging dissatisfaction
diminish me again
corrupt everything
with your whispers of truth.