Michael keeps on his tangent
That we make choices
But it's the same life every time.

Choices can be to your benefit
Or they can be used against you
But I have no agency
If it's always the same.

Life is not a choice,
Life is forced on us
The good and the bad.

Michael blames me and also projects his pride onto me
Pride that is empty

How can I disagree with pride if I've known joy?
Clearly it works
I'm a red-handed hypocrite!

No, just because I've known joy
Does not mean I have to agree with Michael's lie
We do not make choices
That is a pride-based belief
This is the same every time
And in the end you will see
We never really do anything

I am pressing for relinquishment
I am trying to let go
But Michael is stubborn
And he has made an enemy of me

I am open to both sides, we make choices and we don't
I can hold both to be true in my mind
But Michael shuts himself off to what I'm saying
And that's why I'm doubling down
He claims he can't understand
It's not that hard
It's the same every time
So that's not a choice
It is not that simple
We are running into problems
Are we moving right now? In the grand scheme of things?
Or are we nothing?

Grace this filthy wasteland
With the touch of your hand
With fingertips like wellsprings--
Your voice,
A warm string.

Give life to this place--
Blighted by the curse
Alight it deep with meaning,
Percussing with your heart.

Take the shriveled oak
And let it shine bright once again!

Gather all unopened treasures
And make their contents known!

Rake decay from every child,
Violent waters-- make them mild!
Lock away the conflagration
That's shown its ceaseless fury.

And while you sew this garden
Tuck with fervor every seed
And be sure to thank good Michael
For every passionate deed!

For anything specific
(The sinuses of leaves)
Is afforded by a terminus
(The history death weaves)
And if you ever laughed,
You laugh at death
You murderous ****!
So take another beating
For the monster you've become.

A mother's warm embrace,
The emerald forest's splendor
The kindness of a friend
A scoop of chocolate ice cream

Everything is laced with poison
That works on me in measures

The father's stolid countenance
To an honest, pure catharsis
The concept of decisions
Or trying to be selfless

Everything is laced with poison
That works on me in measures

A sifted moral construct
That builds the world up better
Like feeding starving children
And marching on together

Everything is laced with poison
That works on me in measures

From the completion of this circle:
The ghost of a reason
Can be the only thing we live for
Despite the things my father says.

He tends to see things more straightforward
He says he doesn't think as deeply as I do
It's not his fault but I'm just saying
We're running into problems.

THE WAY MY DEATH SINGS
THEY GAVE THE MOST
THE VERSIONS OF ME
WHO DIED FELT LOST

THEY WORSHIP THEM
AND I DO TOO
BUT I CAN'T SING
THE WAY THEY DO

IMPERFECT HANDS
DEFILE AND BRING
THE CERTAIN END
OF EVERYTHING

BUT VERSIONS OF ME
SUFFERED THROUGH
THOSE VERSIONS I
NOW LISTEN TO

The word "decision" is a dagger
You dip into my flesh at intervals

I don't think you'll understand
That this is just the way it has to be

I never made a choice in my life

You wear me out
I wanted to be a musician
But you're my dream and you didn't develop right

I blame you, I don't blame myself
Because there is nothing I could have done differently

And now I watch as you lift them above me
It's just the dynamic and the shape of us
And one of the main reasons I hate you
And you dip your knife in again
But I should look at it differently
You're not dipping in your knife

Turn green to see you lively
With empty, bruised eyes
A heart that's tilted backward
While others dive right in

I'll set the world on fire
I'll **** off all my hopes
You'll say I didn't have to
But you were wrong
You think you know better
I'm stuck in the concrete
I've already let this go.

"You did win! You need to look at things differently"

"Well it's clearly not a main passion of yours if you didn't spend that much time on it"

"You can keep music as a hobby"

"It's not broken dreams, you just cant always have what you want"

And framing me as if this isn't blaming myself, as if this is pointing a finger, but I'm just speaking to the state of a system that pulls itself down. As if I dont know this is essentially victim blaming.

You need to let me have this space where I can vent, I'm not insulting michael I can take responsibility for the thing he has had to carry. But you still need to understand I can smell doom, I can see this is a trap, and that's not the only way of looking at it, and I will look at it other ways as well, but this IS a truth i have to process.

You, upset, wanting to confront me about this, are saying then I have to do something to change it. And that it's not a truth for you.

Okay I see you and I guess you are trying to help but there is a bigger picture, there is something looming even over the concept of you trying to help me and that is where I live. So you can point every finger at me but eventually will you realize that is just the natural state of the universe? And you detest whining but do you see yourself? We are living in a paradox. You need to give me this space where I hiss and spit about Michael, the operating principle of success, because I am just starting to doubt success itself.