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every letter in my poems
has been carved from the contents inside my heart
with every dancing lines and singing words
exposed sorrows
every lyrics portrayed loneliness
akin to the approaching rain
rain that has been hiding from the sky
that will come out when the sky cannot hold the weight anymore
this is just a piece of paper that i use
to be written with my bleeding pen and make the blood as an ink
blood that came from my heart
i wish you will know that you are the reason
why i write these ****** letters
you are the reason why these poems has been crying
you are the reason why there are teardrops on my poems
teardrops that i use to erase this loneliness
but i didn't expect that these papers will be broken
to the point that you cannot see the line anymore
the line that says
"i love you"

but what would be the reason that you will see
there is already an owner of your heart
i'm hoping that this loneliness will fade through time
and i will make a new poem
and you are not the reason anymore
why my poems was crying
not with loneliness
but my poem will cry
because of
"I always make a living so, that I can make movies. I never make movies to try to make a living. I think that's a big mistake that new comers do. They always focus on how can my passion, pay me. And I think that's a terrible place to start. If the reason why you're doing anything creative is to make a living then I think you're doing it wrong. You get into it because it's a true passion , it's something you really believe in  or don't get into it at all."
Street corner of my mind, project it into the future.
Context : I am dealing with alot of what could be termed 'strange thoughts' (if I was talking to a consellor) but they are more into the metaphysical realm (of which my area of ignorance is very large). Dealing with death/life/current experience of 'my 'life''/life after physical death and trying to make sense of what my dreams are telling me (which is the opposite of what my paranoid voice was telling me last week) where does that leave me? (listening to music constantly is semi relief but also painful sometimes) - it leaves me dealing with alot of mental fear - my latest coping skill is to throw or project it into its right expectant time in this reality and not have to 'really' face it until it manifests in this reality (if it ever does - or maybe this fear is true in others perceptions of me but they are unwilling to say it straight to my face - for example I was trying to get breakfast this morning and the person at the sandwich shop redirected me to another shop across a walk way - go to the other shop - they redirect me to the first shop - such closed loops can be perceived as a test/fun/bull*hit/etc..... depending on my mental state (ignoring diabetic hunger of course) but it is just an example of how 'my life' currently is - I would prefer to be asleep or drunk or within non human touched nature but that isnt going to happen and I am struggling :-(
Heart, mouth, mind joined, loving this stream of consciousness living
Context : lying in bed last night, analysing my day as i do every night before sleep. i came to realise i had had a great day, i was totally surrounded by my friends loving environment and responded involuntarily with the same (i think). I have experimenting with stream of consciousness talking for a few years now but have never thought or tried to apply it to my lifestyle (when non paranoid). I was especially impressed when the bride to be saved the life of an insect on the table and stated to me 'this is just for you' and she picked up the insect and set it free again outside. i realised maybe my presence here in this reality might be causing subtle changes in the vibrations of others around me (for good). Anyways i had edits for the first four words to be 'all body, mind, soul' but i don't think i have experienced this yet so it wouldn't be a true reflection of 'current moments'. Dear reader, i am curious and have a question for you prefer my paranoid based poems (just comment with a 1) or my non paranoid poem(s) (just comment with a zero) cheers for reading, i am off to a wedding :-):-):-):-):-)
Left elbow first, left ear next, thanks for your touch
It finally starts getting better. Context : when i left my resting place at the station i was grabbing my backpack and noticed 3 small spiders/ants on the top of the bag, immediate decision making time, brush them off (possibly injuring them and thus myself in the process), get a page from my notebook and try to lift them off the bag back onto the home ground (i felt lazy so didnt do this either) let it flow and let them live their own risks for getting in contact with me (this is the option i took). Tried to be careful when putting the bag on. got on train and recorded my previous poems from that day. Eyes closed thinking paranoid ego thoughts while trying to listen to music when all of a sudden i feel the touch on my left elbow, open eyes and look down, guess what it was one of the spiders/ants, it felt lovely and the physical sensation was totally unexpected and beautiful and snapped me out of my thought pattern, i mindfully didnt brush him off but saw him on my tshirt and the point where it intersected with my headphones wire, closed my eyes and tried to relax, was working, next thing he was just behind my left ear, raised my fingers to it but he didnt jump on board, then felt him again and did the same, then he went somewhere else and i lost contact (later i would wonder where his friends were and if all 3 sacrificed their home and maybe lives for me just because i was lazy? or would the one who survived in the new home of the train or where ever be ok?) Anyways i made it to my destination and met my friends who are getting married and their family and am happy to say have only had one or two paranoid thoughts since arriving so things are busy but ok, things are looking up and i havent been able to write any poetry since so might be quiet for a few days, cheers for reading
  Jul 2015 Broken Prism Prison Son
melt inside your own chaotic mind
       but be kind to your sleeping heart
Perception of the reality you show me breeds only distrust
Context : written on the train out of paris, inspired by a piece of graffiti on rue de ecouffe in paris, 'realize, real lies, real eyes' (or something like that). There have been many times in my life where i am around people and personally felt out of synch with them (even before i became clinically paranoid) or was in a situation where everyone around me laughs at something and i am the only one not to even have an idea of why it is funny or the strange 'usual coincidences' i put up with when outside my safe space and amongst other human animals. it got me onto the train of thought what if the masks people wear when thay are around me are all false, this would render the truth of my experiences invalid as for everyone else it would be based on lies? please note i realise all these paranoid thoughts are related to personal ego tripping so please do not think the context of my poems as part of the ego trip, i am trying to be more truthful to my self by exploring my patterns in this public forum. Please enjoy.
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