“Falling in love” is a contradiction in itself, because in love there is only the rising, the ascending, not the falling.
You can not fall in love, but rather, rise.

Why would I bring to you dead flowers, when I can put you among living ones.

My own people say that all of my sadness I’ve feigned, but what you feel inside often is very hard to explain, and now I’ve become accustomed to the dark clouds, the pellets of frozen rain, the dryness of the cold winds that has burned my face, do I ever want the storm to abate.

She said after all maybe i am a gold digger and you’re the mountain that I chose to ascend, maybe I am here to explore and delve into your hidden inner world, so tell me, what treasure lies within your deepest caves, how far does your emptiness reach and what is it that I shall find in the end.

Heartbreak, the epicenter of mans transition into the world of poetry.
It is here his life is shaken, here he trembles and quakes, here the shock waves radiate.
Here man explodes and words erupt out of his core like lava through a mountain, here each sheet of paper is colored in his soul, here his heart burns and his true emotions are manifested.

This world as you see it just isn’t the same, it is inane, are you in this to enlighten or to entertain, this isn’t sane, I’m in the rain all alone, am i insane, I’m in my lane, but they point fingers and say I’m deranged.

Handle a woman as a bee does a flower, extract her sweetness but do not damage her.

Oh sadness, your crowns are overarching, will a beam of light ever penetrate those dark leaves, from where does this pain stem, rooted my heart deep, my branches are heavy, my head is down and my stalks weak, my efforts seem to bear no fruit, will I ever reach the canopy.

Expose yourself to the natural radiations of life, the cosmic waves of energy, so that even when you’re in darkness, you’ll still be emitting light, become phosphorescent.

Similar to waves or rivers, we can only move forward when we’re changing, or else there’s no progress... else we become stagnant and rot where we are clinging to everything we’ve been gathering.
All that we carry holds us down, in life there’s nothing to hold on to, this only adds to our weight, not allowing us to move on, we become heavier and heavier.
We’re here to experience, to see and touch but not to claim anything for our own, because nothing belongs to us, not even ourselves.
When we put back everything that we have been carrying, each day we become lighter and lighter, thus like a feather we float through life unencumbered, and then living would not be as harsh as we think it is.

We imprison plants to small amounts of dirt within vases, and when the plant grows big and branch out beyond our satisfaction we cut and trim them down, maim and mutilate them, that is the standard.
We were once connected to nature but now we’ve become too civilized, and since we can not be in nature we try to bring nature to us, we try to tame nature.
We do everything to make our lives more attractive, the ego is the tree that is decorated in all our desires, we need to be stripped of our embellishments.
We domesticate animals so that we can live with them, because w’ve been domesticated ourselves. We’ve lost touch with the natural ways, this is why we feel sick, our lives are artificial.
And so we do this with dogs and animals, we breed them to perform for us, disable them to help us when we’re disabled, or because we find them cute and desire these physical treats, so they grow up with health issues.
We feel imprisoned ourselves, that is why we try to imprison everything else. Everything we do, we do it with motive, we want to profit from everything that we’re doing, and so we plant trees to be in their shadows.
We grew sick the  moment we gave power to our thoughts.
And now we’ve imprisoned ourselves to our beliefs and doctrines, to our knowledge and understanding, not knowing that what we’re trying to follow is just ourselves, and like a dog trying to bite its own tail, we go in circles.

There are layers to life, from a membrane covering a nucleus to the skin covering our bodies, or to earths own atmospheric layers protecting our planet.
Each part of another body of work, but all part of the same one.
Circles within circles, these are our homes, each enveloping the other.
We’re but mere atoms within this universal body, part of another movement, where you think you live depends upon the level of your ignorance, there’s but one home.

Imagine life as a movie, the sun as the flash of a camera, earth as a scene on which you perform, and the stars like eyes gazing in wonder, do your best, and expose the beauty of your artistry, the whole universe is watching.

Like some forests we generate our own rain, our own pain and sadness, but surely everything is in need of watering.

So be sad if you must, let these clouds gather, let them darken your days, let the drops fall, as it pours rivers shall form upon your face.

Be sad if you must, let these tears be of nourishment, for your mind, your body and soul, and over time these little seeds within you will be watered and start to grow.

Inside you all sorts of positivity will bloom, similar to flowers, to trees, to shrubs, and there you will lie within the garden of gardens, with peace and love.

We’re too zoomed in, too obsessed with details, our vision is microscopic, it’s concentrated, tense and without any relaxation.
Our field of vision is narrow, there’s no observation outside the central area of focus.
But from time to time even the artist and painter must step away and see his work from afar so that he does not get lost in the details.
We never see things a whole, this has always been a part of the doctrine, everybody is seeking for their own, focused on personal identity and autonomy.
You’re taught to be self reliant and assertive, independent, but all this is keeping you away from seeing the bigger picture.
We lack human qualities, or characteristics like being kind, being self sacrificing, dependable and generous, people’s self image is defined in terms of “I” or “me”, this is not you, it’s your ego.

My dear friend, do not seek perfection, it is but an illusion, a man made mirage.
They say a gem can not be polished without friction, but a gem is already beautiful whatever form or shape it has taken, it does not need polishing or friction to become more alluring, and to who?
What are these standards, do not force yourself one way, when all ways are possible, you do not have to trim your branches, do not cut off your limbs, each petal, each leaf is beautiful whatever way they have chosen to grow, cherish these offshoots and do not be ashamed of them, these are not your flaws, they are part of your ever being, do not let the fixing become a fixation, there’s nothing wrong with you, only right.

The whole of life is a miss understanding, to see the world afresh as the moment we were born, all self conditioning must expire, and thus must be quelled.
The true beauty of life like a fog has long been blanketed by our own perception, restricting us from seeing life as it is, naked.

I cry when I remember, for what once was a blaze is now but dying embers, the child is no more, the light is dim, my life, it’s as cold as nights in December, the end is nigh, of what I used to be, I am now but a remnant.

The soul was created by the ego, because even after death, it can not accept not existing anymore.
If you ask me, not even the flesh itself should make you substantial, not even if you cast a shadow.

Light a candle in the dark and lead yourself to the light, when you’re there blow it out and see the hell in this life, you’re surrounded by darkness under the spell of the night, but even in total blackness shines the smallest of lights.

Funny how i feel blue,
yet all i see are grey clouds,
There’s no sun beaming through the canopy, only rain that falls.

I met a soul, beautiful,
No matter what, she matters most,
So everyday I send her letters to let her know that I won’t let her go,
My love for her, I let it flow and let it grow,
Let it slowly expand within me explode and throw me at her like stones in catapults, my home is the heart that beats under her flesh and the corral of bones, so let me die there, bury inside a tomb in your catacombs.

We’re everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve touched and everything that has ever touched us.
Through every adventure, every escapade, each experience is defining, all that we’re is all that we know.
So what are we if not an accumulation of our memories, an agglomeration of all our knowledge.

My fellow atom within this universal body, within you exists an innate intelligence that is connected to a source from which all knowledge streams.
Admire but do not become a product of the societal or the social influence, do not reflect the image of the other or he whom you gaze upon and deem beautiful, for you’re beautiful yourself.
Tap into your inner genius that lay dormant within the core chambers of your heart.
There are enclosed spaces within you and like caves within a mountain contain gems that shine with a light like no other.
Dig deep into these cavities, there lies knowledge that has been forgotten, knowledge that has been repressed and hidden from you by the outer world, scared that you may some day find them and become who you truly are.

Have no identity, this is the highest form of wisdom, not becoming.
Because becoming or being is a crystallization, and all types of labeling is connected to the ego.
So become not, die every moment, this is what theses so called “wise” people mean, to change, move, or you rot.
The moment you give yourself an identity is the moment you die, one has to become so egoless that you almost become invisible, unnoticed, because the ego is seeking visibility, form, become unnoticed and so you become part of everything else in existence. I’m sorry to say this but there is no focus point, life is peripheral, the idea of being special is wrong, you’re not special, there’s no standing out, everything in life is equal, you’re no different from an insect, an ant, a spec of dust or a grain of sand, or anything.

An so a time came where the social media became our digital playground, a place where we used to hang out, where everybody was in touch with each other’s, yet not.

Alone in my room late, I’m ruminating, the lunar light shines through the window, everything is illuminated, thoughts streaming, stimulus, rejuvenation, if I can not sit alone quiet, then I defy the human nature, there’s a window through which I view the matrix, a human cage, the principle was union, but like wild flowers, our limbs are getting cut, pruned and mutilated, maybe a few can make it, so I apply the knowledge that I’ve accumulated, too much civilization makes sick animals, now I stand under what Jung was stating, there’s is no future to which you can make it, all i see though this hole is human enslavement, but like birds, you’ve become resigned the monotony of captivity, servitude and subjugation, I sit back and watch how all of you behaving, but I’m accused of laziness as soon I say this, this illusion based world that I refuse to engage in, but the hatred that lies in the heart of my peers will never pierce my heart, the truth is sacred, why would I walk the path that you’ve paved me.