Happy Sad.

It’s not a great feat to conjure happy writing or happy experiences

Mostly everyone is completely able bodied to do so.

Writing dark just gathers attention and is so much easier to write due to relativity.

When something feels good. It blends in with mundanity. When something hurts. It stands out.

Attention seeking is ******. Vacuous is one who engages in such activities.

Therefore I will write a happy poem...

I’m about to eat a steak.
In a cabin that was built in the 20s.

It had the first flushing toilet in sublet county.

I climbed today, nothing difficult. But it was very enjoyable above Fremont lake.

Now, sitting here on this ancient deck. In utter silence besides the Birds. I don’t feel accomplished. I feel comfortable. I can’t and don’t have anything to prove.

It’s only been an adventure. Starting out with rolling my friends Jeep. And then not telling his father. But rolling it back over with a sketchy high lift jack setup as a winch.

I can’t really see any point in holding onto grudges. But honestly I know they’ll come back as soon as I get back to civilization. That disgusts me about myself. I enjoy the bliss of being without malice, however I do not avoid it beholding me again even after self reflection.

How pitiful.

Love has become a greedy act. Two people two minds. Their branches of accumulated knowledge and ability never intertwine. Coitus is all, and not exactly alchemy. We just "Love" now. It's tone is dull and hollow. We should come to ponder if it's time to wonder into an open question of loving not the physical. Our collective neglect for humanities has flown high. Love, science, math, empathy, art. All starved out by the greed of their caretakers and guardians. Phrases so selfish like, "I love you" or "I want you" should disgust us. What filth it fills our ears with, to repeat phrases that used to be meaningful. Now we call it art to compile them in a rhyme or writing as a whole. To describe a person only by the physical aspects you enjoy while you're in the shower, in bed etc. Not to say you shouldn't cherish people intimately. It should make our hearts low to have numbed phrases like those. If we collectively view love as something intense again we indulge our lives and others with a more profound meaning. We have lost touch of what it means to actually love someone. It's very rare now.

A man born of nothing
Likewise from everything.
Came from no where
Yet somewhere.
A man who clutches freewill
But has no voice.
He is of every hue
And whom his coitus is specific
And undefined.

He walked the earth by choice.
Conversed with whom he wished.
And lived how he saw fit.

However a calling came for some heroes of his clique.
And he was drawn or he volunteered.

Rough this path was to be
And rough it turned out.

As the path grew darker
The man grew darker.
He partook, inflicted, and observed such unimaginable cruelty. It could only be imagined.

The cruelty was real.
It made him feel so real.
So connected.
Primitive and so developed.

Until he found his breaking point.
Seeing something so terrible it was definitely real.
His eyes wore scars that only faded in the later years of his life.
But he would remember the scene to the exact detail forever.

The path got brighter. So did the man.
But the man was always not as gleeful as his surroundings.
He like so many of his fellow hero’s got stuck in the past sometimes.
Going back to when the path wasn’t so bright.

He lived the rest of his life in peace. Had a family. Fought for the right things with what voice he had.

One day he returned to the most horrific battlefield he once stood on as a soldier.
A man his age, but of the enemy’s looks gazed at him.

An unspoken barrier would always separate them.
But these two were as close and as far as brothers.

They shared a glance so deep only warriors could read it. Roughly translated it said, “All of that is done and gone with. I’ll love you for sharing my memories. I’ll hate your for the bad ones.” Then they went their ways and lived out their days in harmony with hatred and sadness.

Only men like them will ever really be truly human. Living on either side of the spectrum of good and evil for your entire life is fictional. Truth is only found in equilibrium. Humanity is only found in the duality of Devine beauty and incomprehensible darkness.

Sin with your kin.
Spread amour for kindness
Begin with acts of evil chagrin
Sin with your kin
Bin what's within
Greed is vileness
Sin with your kin
Spread amour for kindness

This day in age really proves these creatures are mythical. A piety for pretentiousness inundates us. Drowning in its waters, our egos float up to our heads. Would it not be exceeding if we were as a Blemmy? For without a ceiling to float to, our egos would stay concealed. We could just drain our ocean of turgid avarice for fabricated intellect we seek to praise ourselves with. On the other hand we would become dull. But isn't it wise to at least conceal ego if we cannot smother it? Without ego we can work as one. Think as one. And when we achieve that, we receive the ability to complete all that is conceivable. To bad most aren't willing to give up what they treasure most. The acreage of Real discovery and accomplishment is a fertile, vestal place with unimaginable possibilities. Hopefully one day we will come together and parade through its pastures and meadows as one.

Only by fault, pseudo-intellect festers by closing ones vault. Withholding feelings and ego. If we were to unleash what treasures they hold, people wouldn't be cold. Feelings provide warmth to a personality. When shared they spread their warmth. Treasure locked up isn't useful. So find the key. Be charitable with what's inside. It brings people closer and births understanding and respect. Some feelings might burn, so be careful. Overall, common ground should be flushed out of its cave and nurtured. With friendship ego dies. What an accomplishment it would be to cure an illness society raised within us. Please. Loath it with others and we should grow closer together, to each other, and live in harmonious coexistence full of love.

The time numbs. I want it raw like it was.
Like ******* and ******.
Something powerful and honest.

I let lies continue.
Fantasies I tease myself with.
I never follow these potential trails.
I’m terrified of not having blissful reverie.
Closure haunts me. I’m scared of definition.

I live in a time that never ends.
I breath the exhaust we know but cannot see.
The world spins upon my shoulders, I pass it on without using my hands.
People die, it’s distant.
Life doesn’t mean much.

I live here in a puddle.
I love all the potential I have to waste.
I don’t know what I would slobber on without it.

I want something raw.
Something abrasive, without some sort of superficial veil.
If I brush back another thin facade just to uncover a clearer image of *******.
I’ll slump the world with my bear hands, and whatever blunt object is abreast.
The ensuing postlude or coattail if you will, is gruesome and redefines the word genocide.

Life passes by because it’s not cut with iron anymore. It’s chiseled away with fantastic stone and underlying hopeful chimes of music. A method to which leaves reality unclear, and insipid. Quite literally dull and un-vitriolic.

The time jingoes tore babies from teats, bounced sore bosoms, and buried John Doe’s in mass graves beside schools. Is long gone.

I live in a butterfly massacre.

I have a lust for rightcheousness and luxury
Help me
Help me
Help me
Dig deep
Dig deep
Dig deep
corner ego it’s turgid.
And **** it.
Must cleanse myself of this evilness.
The corpse reeks of malice.
Without it the breath of my soul is aromatic.
Must crucify possessive vocabulary.
I want
I need
I
I
I
Hang them on a cross of selflessness.
Nail them with actions of helpfulness.
Forget narcissism.
Forget avarice.
Forget being vitriolic.
How unbearably odious my behavior has been.
I apologize as sincerely as I can.
After all we are all cursed being human.
All my faults only show how weak I am.
Through reflection I have shed light on the faults I am capable of revealing.
Yet I have not sought action.
That’s how weak I am.
“I need help” I say.
But the first step of healing.
One does by themselves.
Seek help.
I sit here lethartically.
Thinking help will come to me.
I’m so tenaciously idiotic.
And.
To make things worse.
I grow impatient and annoyed that help hasn’t found me.

See.
I realize this.
And I’m so week that still. I won’t do anything about it.
I won’t seek help after writing this.
I might think I will or think I do.
But it’s either two lazy a cry or not one at all.
I am repulsive. Yet to blind to accept it as the divine truth it actually is.
I say I know myself.
I do. But I don’t actually embrace truth as confronting as it is.
It would help me.
I’m to lazy to face that though.
To scared.
So I slither back into my pitiful narcissistic chasm.
Like so many of my self involved peers.
We all realize it. We resent it.
But for now it’s a part of us.

Numb, dead skin
Dumb, head in

Isolation withers you
Insecurity is idiotic

Find, yourself
Hiding, from health

Social interaction
Will give you traction

Swim, into
Dig, you fool

The undertow drowns you
Reincarnation awaits you

Lose, your shell
Binding, you in hell

Venture out of vacuum
And without presume

Shyness is repulsive

Enlightenment, awaits you
Selfless, and too true

Adhere, to the collective
Powerful, and perspective

Connect with others
Help without stutters

Samsara, is a chance
Not, a trance

So help each other
Venerate and gather

Moon, sits waiting
Her, confidant scintillating

She’ll tell her secrets
Without regrets

Only, if we conquer the three poisons
Tonic, clean, and pleasant, like soissons

The hate you keep inside won’t help you float.
But you cling to it, so below you.

Push it under you, to get above the waves.
But eventually the swell will drag you to hell.

Cling to it so below you.
It’s weight will stretch your arms.
Drag you down.

Down into the undertow. Against progress.
So vile, repugnant and insipid. You rot.
Your fingernails leave scars on hate.
You cling to it so.
But shout opposed to such accusation.

Now low enough the crash of the waves blind you.
Squinting through their spray, you struggle.
Treading in denial as you try to pull your hate to breast.

I’d reach out to you, if your hate wouldn’t drag us down together.
And we’d be clinging to something so below you.

Essentially, being essential has left the act of *******
Recreationally, its disposition has changed
Innocence is torn away by arrogant, ignorant, deceitful lectures that **** ****** intent and understanding.
But the students are told to be grateful for this "education" and thank those who de-flower their young perception.
Have I missed out
They say stay young
But look who made us grow up so quick.

LEFT TO RIGHT       TOP TO BOTTOM
I.             Feel.            Sorrow.       And       Blame.

Live       Mundane,       Die           Insane.

Dumb    Head            To(o)          Lame   Truly.    ­              

And,      Too               Swelling.     I’m      Useless

Dull!       Insane.        Hollow:       My       Brain.
                                              
                                                       Blame.

This time please don’t feel sad.
I’ve tried to fade away.
Stretch thin to reach me.
Gone un-scratched for an eon.
As a breath on a death bed.
Can’t be savored for too long.

It’d feel nice to know who I am.
I’m pressed to find a way.
Dressed in his slime and his slop.
It’d feel good to know who I’m not.
Bottle up and conceal.

It’s all moved away this time.
I can feel.
No Fawkes whisper to reveal.
It’s all been changed.
But for me.
I feel the same.

I’m broken and poured.
All vivid, but defamed.
The color I had in my fingers.
Is distant on a tether.
I just coil it back in.
Before I grow numb in taste.

A net of self indulgence strangles us
Through it we see our indecency
We should hate our parents
Mother of our nature
And father of this selfish life bestowed upon us
Luckily paragraphs are short,
This one will just embarrass us for the rest of the essay
As so it should be.
The disgusting state of mind the net intoxicates us with is so painful to bear,
But to survive we must.
For being sober would be to alienate yourself from your fellow lamb
Wolves are shadowed within the herd, and don't pray on those poisoned with selfishness they are tainted with as well.

They profit on your silence, and foster insanity
To reef your identity, and fade you to normality

Control is an abortion of instinctual fundamentality
They blind us with a bleach of hypocrisy to fade us to their normality

Gather once in number, to support the dismantling
Fate of compassionate and empathetic rationality, is threatened by a lie of social justice in pronouns and prejudice

This is an infection of our political mentality,
to allow other views to be heard only if they align within sheepish bounds of radicality

Neo-**** Ideology. What insanity
Can’t let it fester, or our dignity will be the fatality

Disgusting to muzzle those who believe differently
As long as it’s not hate, preach what you practice

I’ve never actually been with another.

I have a close friend.

But I yearn for intimacy with a female.

Within extended pauses.

This lingering feeling.

Rises from its hole.

And finds me up through the undertow.

Bewildering me with a chasm of alienation.

And shrouding me in its dismal light.

I let myself foolishly steep in it.

Until I am saturated with my own self pity.

As pity rots away it turns to anger.

And I decay into a more disgusting person.

One who self loathes. The root of my problem.

How can one love if they don’t love themself.

Get up
And **** me

Punishment for wasting

Punishment for dulness

Correction
Useless

I’m blinded by desire

Blinded by lust

Dopamine
Is my Dream

The only way I’ll take it

Is now and neat

Waiting
Is repulsive

It makes me shake and gag

Wasting time
Relieves me

Oh **** I got a head rush

Falling from the hit

I feel a sense of dread

Reward
Void of struggle

Leads to emptiness

And muddle

I fail to employ this knowledge

And smolder in video games

In YouTube

And *******

Do everyone a favor

I’m insipid and useless

Make it slow and forever

Painful and selfless

******* **** me

I’ve neglected the preciousness of time

My right hand is very good at it








You ask people

They say it's in between the sheets.

Real love is dead. We murdered it through death camps called elementary schools.

I am a bee
I’m flying around and can see

No one is searching for a mirrored perspective
Just buzzing like me, serving themselves busy like a bee.

Might as well just call them all id. Destructive.
No human in them to dehumanize. Just like me, cause I’m a bee.

They’re so abysmal, they **** the life from their surroundings. They become black holes, and **** me out of flight.

We’ve murdered platonic love in its housing.
We strive for coitus killing joyous. Sadly platonic love is too intense to fight.

Within this darkness they’ve absorbed me in, we rot together as equals as it should be. If only we could all help each other be in lightness.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Drop acid. Bzzzzzzzzzz. **** each other. Bzzzzzzzzz. Care for no one. Bzzzzzzzzzz. Seek self fulfillment.

All of us buzzing. Uninterested in love, just *******.

We cannot advance leaving our siblings behind. We either grow and love together, or we rot in turgid avarice, apathy, and unsound complacence.

I love it.
But grow trees to adumbrate it’s anima.

To force a mascaraed upon its glow.
Tarp my elation for it.
It’s guttural.
I feel my definition eave when I do it.

Alien cliques called societal norms.
Make such a scintillating activity, abnormal.
I hurt no one through such a cosmetic lust.
Fabric is not a great medium for harm.

I cringe at such struggles.
For gender roles and such.
One shouldn’t care of what other think.
God knows I’m a hypocrite to state that.

I want to share my “taboo” with someone dear.

I need to.

Anyone who struggles with personal enjoyment.
Doing things that are no harm to others, but are considered deviant.
I would love to leave you with a quote.

“I am human, nothing human is alien to me.”

Where whatever clothes you want to.
Love whoever you want to with their consent.

Through my own tyrannical enforcement
I spew insipid scripted statements
I do not support nor enjoy.
Afraid to be aberrant
Oppressed I am pushed to lecture repugnant contradictions against my own disposition.
Turgid loathing of the fear of dropping the expected facade
Supported by ego and enforced by group-think to mold a homogenous majority.
I hate self pity.
Here marinating in my own self indulgent sorrow.
I am a hypocrite.
Another one of my enemies.
But weakened by forcing myself to state the opposite of what I value,
I open myself to further self destruction.
Through this introspection I might be able to reclaim my social autonomy.
Possibly at the cost of diminution of social impression.
That is held at such divine standards today.
I might become a social martyr.
But at least I’d die complete and confident in my own voice.
It would open me to ridicule.
But I’d rather understand myself and be subjected to hate than to live objectively in a self confined contrived reality.

This.
Stimuli.
It depletes me.
Turn, turn around.
And complete me.

I, lost all control.
And this sense of lament is visceral.
I bleed, from the outside.
Numb death, turning, becoming inside.

I.
Just need one thing.
A child’s toy, nostalgic and stuffed.
A somnambulant hymn.
To remove me.
Disassociate, please.

Your hand is soft.
Placed places that comfort.
I miss your scent, that congeals.
I wish I didn’t have to feel nothing.
Emptiness is so guttural and potent.

I can’t help but see.
Everything slip by.

Claw a bit closer to me
Embrace my malevolent ability
This will help you feel a reality

You feel so safe without wonder
But pine for authenticity
As you rot inundated by false benevolence
You live in such gleaming
It’s insanity

I’ll pluck you from this numbness
By fogging your false sun with a dismal filter
And I’ll *******

I am not what you expected?!
I am not what you wanted?!
I am truth. What you pine for idiot
I am tonic
I will make you feel something real

You’re scared of such a fiend
Only because you smolder in this apathetic medium

I’ll make you uncomfortable
I’ll make you feel like ****
A relief from your dystopian existence
This dissonance will wake you from your slumber

You will gulp from my malice
It will quench your thirst for authenticity
You will feel emotion
You will feel hatred
You will feel bitter sadness
You shall no longer be vestal like your peers

After I deflower you of such “innocence”
You will no longer mime false emotions
You will venerate happiness
You will cherish sympathy
Because you’ve been uncomfortable
And you’ve been in vacuous darkness

You like darkness.
You need it.
It makes the light more dear to you
In fact.
It illustrates your reality with such a fine and tenacious brush
That if it were replaced. You’d be blinded by the blurry falsity it leaves in its absence

For the sake of reformation
Don’t return to ingesting insipid entertainment
Don’t return to experiencing life through media
Digest honest art. Not pretentious art.
Not dull art either
You’ll live much happier

And I won’t have to violate you again my lamb

Jesus Christ.
I blame it on my personality
ENTP
funny, but romantically inept in using it
Smart, but overbearing
Curious, but boundless in exploration
All of these are virtues I have but cannot manipulate.
It haunts me. I hate myself.

Reality
Hurts
Introspection invites pain
Introspection invites healing

I am a gutless fool.
I wallow in excuses.
“I never have the opportunity to talk to her”
Make them.
“I’m not good enough for her”
She stares at you in class.

I love that feeling.
Whenever our eyes meet.
My heart drops. And so does my stomach.
It feels like the floor beneath me.
For that split second. Falls away. It scares me.
Inviting us both into our own world of benevolence.
A flash I wish could be eternity.
Then our gazes dash away just as quickly as they collided.
“Did she notice?”
“Did he notice?”

We “flirted” a lot in 7th grade.
Then we’re separated by schedule.

Didn’t matter.
My pea sized mind...
It couldn’t fathom or even comprehend love.
I didn’t know what I wanted.
I hope you still might want me.

English assignment: write a soliloquy about a personal decision.
I write one about my in complacence and unsureness of sharing my opinion.
You write one about dying your hair blue.
Through your short work you’re funny and shy.

Oh my ******* god. I adore you to death.

At the end you show a stick figure drawing of you next to a college with blue hair.
Labeled: me in college with blue hair.
******* goofy.
I absolutely love it.

If you had blue hair I wouldn’t care.
You’d still be jaw dropping.
Though it would match your eyes.
You have the most gorgeous blue eyes in the entire world.
I literally could get lost in them forever.
They’re so...
Deep.
Deep like I try to make my poems.
cough
cough

Anyway.

Anything I create though could not be as exquisite.
An ecstasy one could die from.

I feel so creepy reflecting on your looks without you knowing. Like I’m stalking you in my mind?

I haven’t flirted since that math class we shared.
I’m afraid I’m rusty. Dilapidated.
I would say something that would push you away.

Or.

I tap your shoulder.
Be hypnotized by your eyes and stand there.
Mute.

Oh...

And the sweat.
My palms would be moister than an oyster.
I’d be beet red.
My voice would quiver.
And boom. It’s awkward for both of us.

Awkward can be nice. Just.
At appropriate times.

I’m so weak.
I have no map to a reservoir of strength.
I have no courage to confront you.
I desperately want it.
I need assistance in acquiring it.

Funny.
I’m a curious guy.
Always looking for adventure in books etc.
But I’m haunted by adventuring toward you.
I see a treacherous path that with one mistake.
I die.

If I make no mistakes.
I win a prize I see myself as undeserving of.

So excuses I make.
And withering inside I drool over you.

We both never talk to the other ***.
I want to talk to you.
And I think you might want to talk to me.
But I block our mingling through fear I cannot control even if it might benefit us both.

I need help.
I’m afraid of getting help.
Then I’d try something and mess up.

Oh my god. Help me.

The pillow’s creased, and coffee cold.
Drops on the window, you seek console.
I’m not there to comfort, or elucidate.
We share a glance, although you may not know.

All the time you were beside me.
Continues to tomorrow and today.
Dissolution and irreverence cloud you.
But I beckon for a light to shine.
Just know I miss you.
You’re never absent in my mind.

Dig yourself a hole, pitiful and abysmal.
I can’t see you when you hide behind my sepulchral existence.
I pine to see you alive once again.
Life seems equivocal and anachronistic.
Anger swoons.
Please don’t tumble into rash being.
I cannot stand to see you apathetic, not tending to your wounds.

Someday you’ll find me.
My eyes in another.
Please let me hold you.
I’ve come so far to be here to solace.
Don’t question my new frame or figure.
Just accept the love I trudged with vigor.