a bright vortex of colors
your eyes are like a kaleidoscope
that can be seen from outer space
a breathtaking view of the beyond

they invite me into your world
the lenses of your glasses do nothing to discourage me from coming in
it may be rude to stare, but it's even worse to do nothing
to pretend as if they do not inspire the wildest of reactions from deep within me

I may be lost inside them, but I don't mind not going home just yet

wifi working? wonderful.
hilarious
clever
great with women
always says the right thing
modern-day renaissance man
knows everything about everything
everything fits

wandering the outside world?
looks like i'm ******
socially awkward
introverted
self-conscious
easily annoyed
cannot tolerate crowds of any kind
terrible at flirting
earbuds in at all times...even without music
anti-social
PERSONAL SPACE PERSONAL SPACE

anonymity can be a blessing or a curse
as the presence of an online world can show everyone else
another dimension to our being, our personality
one that is hidden away beneath the flaws and challenges of everyday life

sometimes it takes something a little unnatural to let out our inner beast
don't get addicted to the feeling
but rather learn from it
you can learn something from your online ego
you are your own best teacher.

"god, i hate everyone. i cant stand being around people"
"same here, they repulse me. lets hang out some time"
seems...contradictory
why would i want to better know someone who hates people
when i hate people?
isnt that a recipe for disaster?
sure its a commonality but...

i still dont know what the allure is
i feel like an audience member
my voice drowned out by the crowd around
is it lonliness?
cant be.
when im around people i look for that.
but when im alone i search for company
not even sure what i want anymore
bouncing around from different states of mind
wants and needs constantly changing...
accepting that i can never have a normal relationship or interaction with other people
acceptance is much easier than fighting
the makings of an antisocial

autopilot
once you're on you dont stop
autopilot
in one ear and out the other
autopilot
life passes by like a dream
autopilot
this is so simple
autopilot
dangerously simple
autopilot
why cant i pay attention?
autopilot
this is your captain speaking
autopilot
and i am asleep at the wheel

as I woke up next to you
it was as if I never experienced intimacy before
being this comfortable around someone else
while completely vulnerable
is this normal?
this is an alien concept to me
and yet despite being so self absorbed in those moments trying to fathom this sensation
I still find myself troubled by your eyes that wander
searching the ceiling and walls for answers
they never reply but you search harder still
any type of concern is met with a dismissive "nothing" or "I'm fine"
when we both know that is a lie
again in my streak of self obsession I beg to share your sorrow
to remind you that past mistakes are nothing more than that

and that despite the 80 miles and 16 dollar train ticket that separates us
I'll be right here waiting for you
on this bed of dandelions

once I lose the ability to concentrate
my day is effectively over
what's the point if i cant think?
no studying, reading, writing,
no retention of anything really, fun or otherwise
forced to revert to humanity's most primal state
your mind is your greatest form of entertainment
and fulfillment
but of course i lost the remote.

and no I'm really not cold you can have my sweater
(I have a higher tolerance and enjoy cooler weather)
and yes I am really paying for lunch put your wallet away
(I don't pay rent)
and yes I legitimately am interested in how your week has been
(Mine ****** most likely)
and no, I'm not jealous that you think some super famous actor is hot
(but **** that guy with a rusty screwdriver)
and no, I'm not hooking up with a bunch of random chicks and eyeing everything in a short skirt
(I'm not bound to a gender stereotype and have control of my instincts)
and yes you do legitimately look good in that dress
(I'm not saying it just because)
and yes I do enjoy having you around alot more than I let on
(I'm not a very expressive person so what)
and yes I do like you more than just a friend
(In case it wasn't already obvious)
and yes maybe I do just want to walk through a park, and hold hands or some ******* and talk about "whatever"
(even though i am easily embarrassed)
and no I'm not hungry
(Those were butterflies)
and no we don't have alot of interests in common
(except humor, and each other's company- I hope.)

I can tell you alot of things
for example
I know what the fear of long words is
I can tell you where the best Belgian place in Manhattan is
I can never say where my heart is
But don't ask me about myself
I can't ever answer that question right
I just let my actions speak and hope they don't get lost in translation

and-

Peaceful at last
it is already dark out
1AM in the diner, just me
Should I invite someone?
Nah, too much trouble.
Yourself is the best company anyway, you know
It's a fact
Sure, it might be "odd" sitting eating by yourself
In the diner, at this time of morning
What do we need company for anyway?
Other people, what purpose do they serve?
I could just write a letter to myself
Bury it under the sand, dig it up in a year
I might be a totally different person by then anyway
Who knows?
It may be the craziest thing I've ever done
Considering all the spontaneity is drained out of me
All those risks never taken
The vacations never cashed in
Those girls who were never asked out
This early morning waffle with milkshake
May as well be the craziest **** thing I've done my whole life
And it may be one of the best meals I've ever had

no control over my mind i never had a choice;
except when it comes to what's projected by my voice;
empty brain filled with negativity;
look what it's ******* done to me;
a smile is more than a parenthesis and a colon;
it's like my life's been stolen;
by external factors i don't care about;
responsibilities and ******* that make me wanna shout;
**** it all

As the dizziness sets in from fatigue
And you still taste the guarine and caffeine induced concotion from 6 hours prior
You **** away the neon green drink and the buzz it gave you
And chemical imbalance sets in
Your body crashes and your mind feverishly fights against that urge
To fall into the land of sleep where your nightmares
Stay ready to remind you of everything wrong with awake life
Something a net with some feathers can't save you from
Nothing can rescue your mind from itself
Except the mind itself
How absolutely diabolical
Almost as diabolical as
When
Right before you slumber
You get
That boost of confidence
Or that earth shattering idea
"Yeah, I'll take a crazy risk tomorrow"
Or
"I'll do what I always meant to do tomorrow, for real this time!"
Then you wake up
And nothing
Changes
Ever.

it always pays off to be that guy
whom leaves a trail of ashes behind him
the charred remains of the hearts broken
and the egos crushed
by his sharp tongue and unwavering hands

it always pays off
to be the one in the room
with a bit of a sociopath streak
"Steve Jobs was my hero"
always a convenient excuse

it always pays off
to act without conscience
as you will live on in the memory
of those you have caused despair
while their lives will be short moments
of which you have no recollection

it always pays off
to act without consideration
"he's just so confident", they'll say
attributing your recklessness
to the type of confidence they can only dream of having

it always pays off

A daydream
Forgotten instantly
Almost
Small remnants left behind
A daydream
Where our best ideas are crafted
When exhaustion takes over
When second guessing yourself is so tiring you dont even bother
A daydream
Where time skips at random intervals
Destination: anywhere but here
A daydream
Where am I again?
I don't want to wake up
I'm happy here
In a daydream

my minds in the gutter like everything else
locked away in a *****-stained jail cell
sticks and stones are strong enough to break the cardboard walls
but i could give a **** like i have brass *****
starts out with self-demolition
dont tell em **** about your own position
allergic to guilt
break out in hives like bee stings
common cold world no cure for these things
dont chew your food so you can choke
jim carreys mask obscured the joke
green with envy crayola box
silent bomb with a digital clock
till death do us part

into a routine every day
into the same traps as always
into obscurity or something worse
green with envy and i got the blues
skip the weather straight into the bad news
who the hell are you? i barely know you
but i still wanna pay for your dinner and ****
see you laugh, tell jokes and stories
other corny nonsense
told myself i didn't want anyone for a long time
but a long time may be up by now
mixed feelings diced with blender blades
this **** is too difficult, i was never good with girls
or none of that romantic feeling or whatever stuff
****.

it's always so awkward contacting someone you haven't talked to in a while
as if you need to text them within 7 days or else you officially become strangers as per the law of the land
kind of adds alot of pressure, doesn't it?
as if you and a third party couldn't possibly be busy at the same time

not allowed to talk
not allowed to listen
not allowed to visit
what can you do?

aside from ignore

just because it's so STRANGE
to contact someone after so long
without expecting anything

oh well.

hey you
yeah, you
don't act, you already know

maybe the fact that i don't use pet names makes it harder to see
but i uh, i lo-....
well, nevermind that

maybe one day
i'll show up to your door with your favorite meal
isn't that so roman-..surreal?

or even, do the unimaginable, send you flowers?
doesn't matter whether there's rain, snow, or thunder showers
what do you think of that mi amo-...friend?

well...this is odd.
as i stand here with all these gifts and affection
the only person left now is my reflection...

so I guess it's just us now.

hey you.

you do it for fun
not because you enjoy it
but because you've spent so much time building up this image of yourself
that now you're forced to live up to it
and straying from that image would draw far too much attention to yourself
so that is not an option
it's never an option

in between awake and dream
is when my mind for the first time decides to go aflutter
wandering the endless plains of "what ifs"
reenactments
possible regrets
maybe?
nah, never that
on one hand
i want to sleep
yet my brain is awake
never stopping now, fifth gear
on the other hand i dont want to forget it
i could never live with that, after all
what if its the best idea i ever had?

It's always easier to admire something from afar
A picture of the jungle
A large bonfire
You see a small part of the picture without feeling it
The bugs biting into your skin, the moisture in the air clinging to you
The intense heat and the smell of burned matter
These experiences are what you miss when you decide to admire instead of stepping forward into it
The mystery, the suspense of what might happen kills you, you tell yourself
Yet even when you step in, you must step through the actions
There is no guarantee and there never was one

I scrolled up through all the old texts
Hoping it would eventually stop scrolling
It didn't.
I was able to read back all of our memories
I wasn't able to forget them as easily the second time around.
I was able to see the exact moment I lost you.
That's when I stopped
The one moment I didn't need a reminder of

when we speak of failure
it evokes vision of a great struggle followed by defeat
a saga that helps define who you are
that makes a great party story in a few years

but what of the small battles that you lose
who are long forgotten
yet in the present moment feel equally as devastating?

dripping iced tea on your shirt
getting stood up that one time
that joke that flopped and silenced the room

these failures don't make great stories
but they are part of our stories

and i asked him
(my younger self)
why he followed
the road to nowhere
with so much resolve
he said he had never
seen it before
and had no reason to
fear what he never felt
he possesses the recklessness i wish
i had
he totally lacks confidence
yet acts the opposite
as it's all he's ever had
i suddenly feel
corrupted by my small victories
if every endeavor
should end with
that small high he
would soon feel
after following his heart,
not his head.
and i know he will chastise
himself for that.
for ignoring his head,
his intelligence that he feels so proud of.
his defining feature.
I hope one day I can believe him.
But he will be stepping backwards.

muscle memory is a funny thing
how you can have something committed so deeply into your consciousness
that your body just does it without thought
and these are the things we do best
even though we study countless hours
and practice to hone our technique
for seemingly endless amounts of time
but we are at our strongest when we do not think
amazing isn't it?

all you hear as a 20-whatever
is dating advice,
generalizations of both sexes
as if neither were human
yet

embracing the futility of it all
coming to the conclusion that it's best not to "batter up"
creates an inner peace

no more rushing to change that facebook relationship status
no need to take constant pictures with two fake smiles instead of one
no more pressure

refreshing social networks to see updates on the *** life of others
and being able to say "I cannot relate at all" to yourself
without having an issue with it
that is the sort of inner peace others spend endless resources to attain

when the game is rigged
or inherently broken
you realize
that the only winning move
is to not play at all.

eventually
you'll meet someone on this earth who you want to make happy
at all costs
and it will destroy you
one way or another
and yet you'll find a way to justify it
ignoring the risk
or the pain
or the total lack of reason
using your emotional center
as a substitute for your logical one
total attraction takes over
stronger than lust
an attraction to their words
in love with their thoughts
and you'll find yourself paralyzed
the words traveling nowhere
frozen, crashing to the ground
just wait a second
honey
i'll be right there

hell is a state of mind
when you lose all the knowledge you once had
when the confidence you fought so hard to obtain
vanishes
when you fruitlessly google your countless camalities
scrambling through advice columns and blogs
to answer a question which may not even be the right one

hell is a state of mind
where you can only come up with brilliant ideas
when you lack the capacity to act up on them
when your energy is drained

hell is a state of mind
where you can only connect the dots before you hit the pillow
where it turns an attempted 8 hour sleep
into a 3 hour death roll

hell is a state of mind
that you're lost in

1) If x = distance then y = desire
then y increases at the same rate as x.
Show your work
Explain why this happens


2)As A = going to sleep and B = I have something important to do right now,
Solve for AB = my mind loves to wander at the most inopportune of times

3 )Find the difference for L - C
where L = your life where you are now
and C = your comfort zone
the answer is where you need to be

so it's a numbers game
yet it never adds up
but you always lose

all of the stone cold loving of a fossil
a dead fish, a pig in the summer sun
whose only concern is panting out the heat
i am about as romantic as 2 day old bologna
i can express my love for you almost as well
as napoleon can tell us today that he was not in fact, short

that is to say, not at all
mute in more ways that one

i'll never say what i really feel
just can't
the words are transparent, escaping my grasp
the feelings a mystery that even the mystery machine
could not find

i'm sorry that there's no clarity.
so i shall continue walking this path
alone forever.

and it is fine.
the first step is acceptance
i'm already half way therem

Man I can't believe I'm reminiscing about high school. I remember always hating that **** until people started kinda getting friendly with me towards the end. I think LI is just beautiful to look at and visit, but I remember living there being pure hell. Looking back I miss it but when I put myself in my old shoes I remember how awful it was. If the events didn't unfold in the way they did, I would never be where I am today, thinner and happier and more confident. I'd be stuck in that same suburban attitude everyone else gets caught up with in staying in one state of mind forever. "Grass is always greener" type of thing. I still feel as if I hold some sort of resentment for the popular kids and all the attention they received because I feel like I'm getting too old to be able to experience things anymore while simultaneously having them retain the novelty of being new. I'm just glad I don't live near there anymore so that I'm not forced to run into them every now and again. Still, it does get to me every now and again. It looks so peaceful in pictures and in the summer it's beautiful. Perhaps it's time to accept the fact that I'll never truly get closure.

"you're the tech guy"
but what if I don't wanna be?
what if I want to transcend my role
be the nice one
or
the caring one
or
the one with too much on his mind to say

what if I want to define myself
instead of letting others make that decision for me?

what if I feel completely alienated from this world?
as if I don't follow the same code everyone else does
I don't go through the same experiences as you do
I lack them
tech guys fix computers and ****
I don't do that
actually, I have no idea what i do or what my purpose is
and somehow I doubt ill ever know

Why does the music stop?
It wasnt supposed to stop on its own
Not like this anyway, it was too abrupt
It happened out of nowhere, too
Just...kaput, done, silence
No warning at all
Cant dance without it, what gives?
Waving around on my own like a fool to no background noise
Aimless gesturing and random movements
But before it stopped, there was coherence
Those same motions made perfect sense
A dance with a song that goes together
Now there is no more melody
So there shall be no more dance neither
Cease and desist, and walk away as if there was no song or dance
Why did it stop?
I'll never know

So here I am
Few hundred dollars worth of electronics
Bored beyond belief
And I'd rather pace
Grabbing a remote and pressing a button?
Too much work
I'd rather pace about and overthink pointless ****
I'd rather kick myself over how that time I couldn't be honest about how I feel
Than to turn on my DS.
Or I'd rather fantasize about a perfect world where everything goes my way
As opposed to turning on my laptop and taking steps to make it so.
Something about walking lost in your own thoughts
It's a trap you set on yourself.
It's a peaceful break from the age of information.
But I'd rather that than all these fake dreams of misinformation
Self deception
And other nonsense
It can never be too simple
Nope
Never
Not for me

anger
explosive
anger
with all the grace of a submarine through tar
unexplainable
it appears from nowhere
ready to shatter any good fortune the world decides to bestow upon me
sneaking up upon me slowly
lingers around forever and ever
haunting my existence
till death do us part
this
explosiveness
impulsiveness
frustration gathers
nowhere to escape to
imminent doom

frustration
forever
*******

just pure anger
I'm sorry

I'm so sorry...

Grade A *******, check my report card
Master of my own craft, avant-garde
Sincerity eludes me, but I used to be so warm to it
Mostly a foreign concept now since it's ******* me in the end
It's easier to not care, or at least act like it
Travolta I'm not so that's not an option
Butterflies in my stomach as if I never ate dinner
Yet that's my gut telling me that I've picked a winner
But...
Should your past be taken into consideration
Or mine?
Or the notion we have very little in common?
Or the fact that you have way more options than me?
Thats the issue with the information super highway
Less is hidden so it's easier to judge or create false doubts
All this stemmed from a single moment or a lifetime of self-doubt?
Even after I found myself there was more i still didn't know
Overthinking is my worst nightmare, and I'm living it
How outrageous

I want to annihilate you
and yet committing to such an action
would require great sacrifice on my part
and you have not earned the right to be a full time grudge
I am sick of allowing you to wander my thoughts and poison them with your presence
and despite wanting deep down nothing more than sweet ego crushing vengeance
I won't allow you the pleasure

I shall deny you the honor
of dying by my hand
live on.

bright stars glinting
scattered across a velvety night sky
it's whatever-o-clock pm
moving slowly
on a small cardboard conveyor
guiding you through the motions
autonomously. ..

all around you
this happens
you don't need to be here
an optional cog in a much grander cosmic machine
a machine which you cannot help but stare at
yet it never even gives you a passing glance
a mirror with no reflection

background music begins to fade
as your eyes close
silence.
asleep.

silence is golden
and yet we despise it
"awkward silence"
there's an epidemic sweeping this country
where we can't leave people alone
and always want to
talk
talk
talk
some more
just innocently
dividing your attention
to fulfill our neediness
to temporarily close a void within us
but we won't be satisfied with just one distraction
oh no
it will continue for as long as we live
forever being indifferent
towards your preference of solitude

the room fills
with people wielding mics and cameras
attention towards the podium
where i am supposed to be

ive been dreading this moment
there's no bad news to be told
even on a positive note
moments like these are why secrets exist

i dont want to report my daily happenings to anyone
i dont need to inform you of every minor or major event
cut the mic, shut off the camera
nobody needs to know

im leaving, going home
i'll use the backdoor,
where noone can see me

the problem with overusing sarcasm is that
nobody takes you seriously, even when you need to be
like for example
when i ask you if you have a boyfriend
it isn't just out of curiosity
(but then again, just because there's a goalie...)
or when i ask what you're doing tuesday night
it isn't to mock you for replying "nothing"
(that's MY usual plan anyway)

the unusual enthusiasm i have for washing down red wine
with chicken tenders is just code for "i want to welcome you to my world"
with its quirks, pros and cons
and maybe i just feel a certain level of comfort with you
that is usually reserved for when i am immersed in my solitude
aka the creature's natural habitat

maybe i should stop waiting for the perfect moment

i once told myself a lie
i said i would never write about this
we were all friends until i moved on
retail was not what i wanted for the rest of my life
i suppose we saw things differently

when you're in a hellhole for half a decade
wasting your holidays and weekends for what barely amounts to beer money
you take what you can get
whether it be in terms of hours, or friendships

one of the strongest sources of human bonding is mutual hatred
and now i know i wasnt the only one who resented those lucky enough
to have left before they got ****** in and became too comfortable
(all of a sudden, the alien's fascination with the claw in toy story makes much more sense)

this sense of camaraderie in retrospect was a lie
knowing the same people for 3, 4, or 5 years
and then all of a sudden losing complete contact with them

all of a sudden
being in retail hell
didnt seem like the biggest waste of time
compared to the lost friendships

i once told myself a lie
i said i would never write about this
looking back
that lie doesn't seem so bad

"au revoir mon amour" our hero uttered under his breath,  having finished his morning coffee. having one less sugar than usual it was one hot serving of disappointment. as the sole source of morning energy it was a crisis bearing eerie similarity to our nation's oil addiction. two things you do not trifle with are a man's hobbies and his coffee, and the importance of the bean in our hero's life could practically fulfill criteria. the worst part of a bad morning coffee is that a second chance at getting it right would have to wait until much later, lest his digestive tract go into defcon 5

ego is a silent killer
it waits for your mind to idle
cloaks itself among boredom and intrusive thoughts
its preferred weapon is your insecurity
it can be slow and deliberate
letting you bleed out and feel it all
or it can go the rarer route of ending it all in an instant

i just need your permission to die

staring at screens all day
you look away to see the world
and it doesn't even look the same
like vintage film
fuzzy and dizzying
where do you direct your gaze
when it's exhausting just to look?

up and down the east coast
in a cheap used Honda
sunshine, clear sky
fuzzy AM radio
windows down, cool breeze
no sense of direction
road signs and carelessness
take place of a gps
no contact with the rest of the world
empty highway
scenery all around
laughter
an adventure?
nothing matters but this moment anyhow
not the next minute
nor the next hour
nor tomorrow
we're not in New York anymore
"Are we there yet?"
there is no "there", yet
no pictures
only memories
make it last
Rest up sleepyhead
You'll need it

Sleeplessness
Brought to you by sparkling espresso in a can
I have underestimated you yet again, oh humble coffee bean
But back to work
Eight tabs open, going back and forth
It's nothing short of a miracle if any given task is given more than a minute of attention at a time
Muscle spasms, trembling, fascinating
Overwhelming urge to mindlessly flex the muscles I don't have
Fake machissimo brought about by exhauation?
Or the exhileration of having to complete 8 projects in a day
While simultaneously trying to grasp a breaking down of my mind which hasn't happened since...forever
Hmm
These are the prime conditions to breed a taxing marathon of productivity
Or a chain of costly impulsive decisions to perpetuate procrastination.
Signs that someone is going crazy range from ****** to inability to stick to a single topic to excessive use of run on sentences
"How meta, acknowledging your insanity deconstructs the very notion of it if you normalize it within yourself and just look as everyone else as crazy! Ha.ha."
That made no sense, i don't think.
I like using big words to make myself sound smart you can make anyone believe anything if you use big words also it scares those
Hippopotomonstroesquipedaliophobixlcs
Grumble grumble
Good night/morning/whatever

What makes something special?
Is it the feeling itself, or exclusivity, or something more?
Is it like those moments that are so nice yet so fleeting, that constant reminders of them make life seem dull by.comparison?
Is it how you can make someone who is normally motivated solely by anger feel like a more complete person?
Is it that I feel like I actually make a positive change in someone's life, even though the very idea of changing someone seemed wrong?
I'm not sure.
I'm probably wrong
But a man can dream.

all the notes in my phone are still there
from ******* about random things years ago
i cant remember what i was complaining about
just vague ideas of what i think may have happened
am i really that different from before?
or do i keep the notes there
since i've never solved anything
i've only ran away

one of my biggest fears
is spilling coffee on my favorite striped t shirt
white with thin black stripes,
how embarrassing that would be

thats why its place in my heart as my favorite
has been replaced by the charcoal gray
whose dark shade hides all types of stains and mishaps.

in one fell swoop
with my favorite striped shirt
the night is ruined
as I recklessly fling the french fry
from plate to mouth
and the ketchup flies off as per the laws of physics
straight into my chest
signalling the end of my life

it was nice knowing you, striped shirt
but your power over me
to expose my clumsiness
and make me incredibly self conscious
is no more

i closed my eyes and i saw us in a car. me driving, you in the passengers seat. its very bright out. you turn and do that smile where you squint your eyes with it in a way i find adorable. my imagination finds its best memory of your voice that it can, but saying nothing in particular. it's weird to imagine because you are self conscious about your voice and id also imagine about your smile. the only feeling i can attach to it is "guilt", as if i forced you to speak when you didnt want to. it's vulnerability and it is supposed to feel unpleasant, but knowing that doesn't necessarily make it any less so. i even feel a vulnerability i haven't felt in quite a while in writing all of this down (and hopefully telling you)

Wood rots
Tires deflate
Grass dies
Cars rust
Paint chips
Everything is temporary
Including that fleeting feeling
Where
Everything feels right
And
You get caught up
And
You fall into a routine
And
Then
The novelty of your existence wears off
You're all figured out, like a cheap magician's trick
Gimmicks all worn out, colors faded as if left out in the sun
A change of pace is needed perhaps?
You are boring me...remember?
And soon
Something that once felt as certain as five fingers and toes
Is toast