I wear a hat,
Just a cap,
I wear it raised slightly with it tilted, a little to the right,

I carry my vanity in it,
People look at me with a label,
But different than the one I fear,
So I stand up a little taller with my new found vanity,

I am happy with my image,
I don't care if my parents look at me questioning what they raised,

I don't care if people think I look intimidating trying to see the criminal through the sunglasses,

Because for once I feel I can be individual and still be comfortable with myself.

Music determines the heart,
It expresses what you want to feel,
It hides it from people who are musically unconscious,
Yet when expressed it is such a release of buried emotions that there is no other way to define it other than
Spiritual.

I look at people walk with these squares in their hands,
Laughing at something no one else sees,
Talking to no one,
Listing and dancing to silence,
Seeing a virtual reality in reality,
This new thing called "Pokémon go" came out where it requires the user to "go outside" yet there is no "avoid the obstacles" objective to the game. So why are we so addicted to such a thing? I have no idea, I don't and will never involve myself in such an immersive virtual reality that is free.

I have read books about having chips in our heads that are computer screens visualized to our eyes. This scares me, why? Because then we are truly impaired, mentally blind in a sense towards our physical surroundings. If you could choose to look at a 3-D image of wildlife without their "ocular" restrictive materials but rather have them just pop up in your head. Or would you rather look at the breaking seams of reality, while the rest of society looks dazed and lost, as they continue to watch their eyes for the latest celebrity scandal.
See these things have their benefits yes, but we don't care about the societal deficiencies we pick up as more and more people get these chips implanted.

I'm sorry for who I am,
I don't mean to be defensive,
I don't mean to avoid you,
I'm just scared that I've done something wrong to ruin your time,
It's not you,
It never really is,
It's that I'm insecure about everything,
So don't be mad,
I really don't mean to be the way I am,

I rise thinking what I can do better today,
When I fail at that I think is there another way,
At night when it's all over I think about what I can do better tomorrow,
I hate doing these endless pointless circles that eventually end at a cliff.

Society is but a continuous cycle we are born, we live our lives, born others, raise them, and then we die. It happens repeatedly over and over again in an unending predictable cycle. But sometimes this predictable cycle is broken an earthquake happens and the pattern is broken in the affected area. But then in a few years it just goes back to the unending cycle.
See society does not function without a repeatable pattern that's just how we work. When you learn something new like riding a bike a step out of the pattern, but eventually you start going on it more and more then it becomes a pattern. But why continue in this pattern. Is it as easy as asking for something different at a restaurant. Wrong after you do that once then you'll try it again and then you'll try it another time, eventually it becomes a full blown pattern.

This is a story of an old church pianist who owned a church after it closed and lived in it. He has just been told that his house is being destroyed due to its age, I am only showing you a small part of it because it's my favourite part of the story...


I stood there looking around the home that I lived in, I worked in, and played my very best and worst in this place. As I walked down the aisle memories started flooding in, I remembered watching my beautiful wife walk down the aisle in her wedding dress holding onto her fathers hand, she was just so beautiful.
20 years later she passed away of a heart attack. I remember it so vividly like it was just yesterday; it was in the middle of August and we were sitting at the café. She ordered a frappé with skim milk, and then it all went wrong. She dropped her coffee onto the cobblestone floor as she grabbed at her chest thinking that she could tear her heart out. I knew something was wrong so I took her to the hospital. I stayed there for hours as the doctors tried to keep her heart going, when they finally came out their faces were grim.
So she went down that same aisle her father holding her hand one last time in the church that she had once walked through so proudly before, but she always so beautiful.
So as I walked down that aisle I started to cry as I trudged forward.