"every body just stirrin the ***.
an everybod else jus sits there an watches em.
is ridiculous.
complainin bout bein treated like sheep and then
a person goes and says something
purely
just ta getcher goat
and you just start bleatin like one.
with the rest of the herd bleatin right there beside ya.
Each one of you lookin' at the rest and callin' 'em sheep.
Be it bah or bleat, ya'll just a bunch of farm animals me.

"What I mean to say is-
Every body saying things that are true
but only from a certain perspective.
if it's only true a certain way,
then it's a lie in certain light as well.
It ain't truth 'less its universal.
if it ain't universal it ain't true enough to be truth. "

I can think of six different girls named Chelsea,
and I think every single one is a beauty

But I ain't never gotten along with someone by the name of Mary.

And they tell me not to judge a book by its cover.
And I mean I can think of a couple a people I met,
Who I didn't like at first glance.
And maybe I just looked at 'em the wrong way,
or maybe they were just having a bad day-
that first time.

But I can tell you,
I've seen plenty of people
and the first thing about 'em that I knew
was that I didn't like 'em.
And it was true.

I can think of six different girls named Chelsea,
and I think every single one is a beauty

But I ain't never gotten along with someone by the name of Mary.

And they tell me not to judge a book by its cover.
And I mean I can think of a couple a people I met,
Who I didn't like at first glance.
And maybe I just looked at 'em the wrong way,
or maybe they were just having a bad day-
that first time.

But I can tell you,
I've seen plenty of people
and the first thing about 'em that I knew
was that I didn't like 'em.
And it was true.

Anyhow a shot at man in the dark
is just a shot at a man in the dark.
If you don't take it you won't hit him.
And if you do shoot you might miss him.
So don't look,
listen.

I want to see chalkdust
made from their skull(s).
beat that(those) thing(s) against the asphalt.

I want to cut open their skin
and pull their muscles out.
Carefully;
slippery-
disgustingly,
like slugs.

I want to make them feel really ******.

You know
because I shouldn't feel bad
unless everyone else feels bad too.

Which I suppose is sort of rude,
and makes me feel a little worse.
but how do I explain to them how I feel
without crying
and going on like,
"you hurt my feelings".

I've sat here and said nothing
for however many years old I am
and I can keep doing it.
But it feels like its time to say something
or do something,
and most times I don't know what to do
but contemplate extinction

You are dead now
and that is strange to me.
Because you will always be a memory
of my childhood.

Had not seen you for how
long?  
And you were still a memory.

We won't meet for many more years now,

Unless it's as children
fifteen years ago,
and in my mind.

Really what I wanted to say though,
is everything is good.
You were always good.
If you are dead and you're wondering what people thought of you while you were alive.
Here it is in writing.
You were always good.

He was tired of the ordinary and he wanted something new.  
He wanted to hear the sound of the moon.  
He wanted to taste the tides.
     The sound of the cacti growing in the desert was like music to his ears,
but he could not remember anymore exactly just what it sounded like.  
He wanted to go back to when he did not have to remember
because he could hear it always,
but he could not go back.  

Time had put him where he was
and he could not turn back time, but it was not just a matter of that.
  He knew that somewhere he had lost his understanding of himself, and with it
his conception of the world
became skewed.  
He did not properly understand
the instrument with which he experienced the world
so he was not appropriately situated to judge what he experienced.  
Once he understands what he is
he sees his flaws.
he sees other things too.
    
The rays of the sun fell in a multitude of rays through the trees,
the canopies acting as a colander; taking up most of the rays
but allowing some to slip through
where small trees and shrubs seemed to congregate.
One of the rays fell on the boy
and as it did he opened his eyes
he was no longer a boy.