cosmic dust.. blowing in the wind
that's what we are.

remains and debris of impacted rock
that clutters and piles meaningless and purposeless.

just until the moment of gravity or some god-like force
accumulates the lifeless rock and dust into larger objects of mass.

what is formed is just a glimmer, a speck in the whole universe.
a tiny cog in a gigantic network of gadgets and machines.

that is us...

and then Jobs told us to go make a dent in it all…
go and make your mark… and follow your heart

and so
we're alone in a world full of people?

just this pen.
just this paper.
one on one.

it's an escape.
therapeutic and sublime was how it felt.
a chance to put our thoughts down..
put our foot down..
"chill out", a voice behind the ear.
just let everything flow out.. spill out..

escape or seclusion, pen and paper
but not isolation.
for some reason, ‘these thoughts, can they be a gateway...?
to connect through others.'

we hear people's thoughts, personalities, various angles and perspectives, religion, art, arguments, controversies, and social engineering..
so many subjects and topics, spraying at many targets in the hopes for one that might ever latch on, can we ever click on?

so this was the escape.
let us bleed ink and we succumb to slowly die.
as the life proceeding will be one word less,
until the very last breath.

we share eachother our mind, body, spirit, soul to one another.
our sanity, our graciousness,
our wrath but also our peace into love and strong relationships.
the incendiary lava that flows and burns within,
can be frozen and lifeless tranquility tomorrow...

but then after all the chaos
once we see for ourselves, and we had a chance to walk and walk.
and everything just... settles.
past this tangible life onward to a spiritual existence,
just remember to stick together..

because we're all in this together..

every day i struggle,
trying to figure myself out.
trying to figure her out.

why cant she be with me?
how can i be with her.

it cant be her, right?
because she's perfect.

then, there must be something wrong with me...

not good looking enough?
too quiet?
my wallet is flat?
too fat?

knowing these obstacles,
i can't change the circumstances or to attempt to change your opinion,
but i can change myself.
i can be better.
i can improve.
for you.

however,
i can't just suddenly change on a dime,
because attitude takes time to build.

so every day i make strides.
every day i push myself to commit more effort,
every second i try to prove my value to you.
even if it is little.
every day moving forward, i earn my stripes.
i earn the name on my back.
every day i put the heat on, hopefully changing what i am tomorrow
so in the future i am what i want to be today.

i am willing to change.
i want to change.
and even if it isn't for this girl,
for the next one,
im willing.

go on, trek alone, and make mistakes on your own,
alone with one you can't undo things that you've done.

stop before you go, remember that it takes two to tango;
don’t let yourself blow, in order to not disrupt another's flow.

but we obscure ourselves to what we see, so imagine the impact of three;
imagine dividing over sustenance, shelter, and liberty.


if we look anymore, how will we ever account the limitless possibilities of four?
but it only takes one to spark the fire for desire to inspire for more.


from four through one, a cohesive unit to accomplish what must be done
where we’re at, where we’ll be, we maintained a standard of order and decree

together as one, the story we share will unwind.
to see experiences we’ve had, we look behind.
we look down at our feet to see where we stand.
we move forward and beyond to reveal one, that is stronger than just one man.

i'm the kind of boy to be the sweet one,
you're the type that made me skip my heartbeat's drum.
you and i, i quantify, it adds up to a sum.

but when we put two and two together,
you and me whenever,
through tragic displeasure...

...it still adds up to none.

we compose
for all those
it goes
from your nose
to your toes
onto the goosebumps on your back
touching your clothes

we juxtapose
with those
who chose
to face tougher foes
and to have more fluid flows
instead of rivers that froze
use your heart and it shows
and go all out until your hand blows

so the next time you compose
think about the path that you chose
and just do something for your people
and for all those surrounding fellows

needless to say,
i still think about you.
and every second,
every minute
is as uncomfortable as the next.

what the ****.

im starting to believe something is wrong with me,
wrong with my head.
a lobotomy should help.
maybe a 8-inch nail should end the voices drawing me closer to you.
it just seems like whatever i do,
it's just a sequence of steps that lead to nowhere.
all the while im really trying to get to you.

why should i even bother?

like you would be interested and i can see that you arent.
but why my mind hasn't accepted the inevitability, i wish i knew.
These thoughts will not cease,
the image of you and your voice is engraved into my ******* mind.
imagine listening to the same 4 bars of a melody for the rest of the day:
the wrath, the confusion, and the insanity.
i am trapped in your ******* labyrinth,
just ******* **** me.

i wish i never knew you.

in unparalleled worlds and experiences,
we are two distant universes.
although the space between us is numerically finite, it seems like it spans across the galaxy (an indefinite space)
and yet im fixated on you , and forever i will be fixated...

...up until the next comet flies by me.