It always amazes me just how much **** people will eat, if you feed it to them.
They swallow concepts without giving a second thought as to what they mean.
They bow to authority without question as long as it is well dressed or disguised as entertainment.
The thoughts being consumed are sickening.
I find myself fasting these days.

I fell into this sinkhole of gluttony. Money can be a curse like that.

I know that I am not everything that I may have thought I was at different points and times, yet at the same time, I am more.

I think I was in this mental state of bliss that I created for myself and just used him as the reason.

I can try to sound poetic, cool, crafty, but I’m just not.
You might catch a slight rhythm or rhyme, but I won’t guarantee them.
I probably won’t blow you away with metaphors or anything like that.
This probably won’t be the deepest thing you’ve ever heard.
I really never thought I was good at this, and… I’m probably not
because I’m always wondering if any of it makes any sense.
However, I’ve been told that making sense isn’t important in these situations.
After all, when pen touches paper, I create this world,
and I can recreate it to my liking,
and for all you know, it’s all just a figment of my imagination.
What’s important is that when you enter my world, you FEEL.
It’s important that YOU feel because I feel.
My aim was never to attract you to like this, or me,
although I wouldn’t mind if you did.
Actually, I do think I try too hard,
too hard trying to be like… Something!
What that is, I don’t know.
But now, I’m just being me.
I don’t think that I’m meant to be taken in all in at once
and neither is my work.
My thoughts don’t flow neatly in any type of order.
They’re fragmented, scattered into bits and pieces here and there.
I’ve been known to often stray off-topic,
But as scattered as I may be, I throw myself out there.
Sometimes even carelessly, not even knowing what my intentions are.
Maybe that you can take a piece of me,
and connect it with a piece of you.
Now, you can take that as whatever you will.
I try not to take any of this too seriously;
these are just… poems. thoughts. words.
That I hope you can feel.

I often fall into this trap.
This trap of seeing things that other people have and thinking I should have those things too.
The trap of inadequacy as opportunities seem to bypass me.
I sink into this pitfall of perceptions that scream to me how I should look, behave, what I should have, and how I should BE.
All of it being mostly lies and at best misconceptions.
I had to learn to accept acceptance,
That I am who I am meant to be.
Outside influence no longer clouds my thought, and I begin to enjoy life as I step out of a place between being too critical of the past, and too engrossed in the future.
The fact that I am here is evidence enough that there is a place and a purpose to my destiny.
I am here because this is where I belong.

Keep giving.
Give so much of yourself,
That when they have your funeral,
There is no more of you left.
You would have used up everything you had
By giving life your all,
And your casket will be empty.
And there would be nothing left to mourn for,
Except the memories that had yet to be made.