Get out more.
Talk about nothing.
Revel in the sharing of vices.
Transcend the mundane in small groups.
Keep it personal.
Burn the paperwork.
Let's tell each other secrets.
Reveal our problems in search of solutions.

No matter how much is left behind.
There is so much more to behold.

Cyclical consumption stops here, friend,
One second has opened these eyes,
to everything new, to constant change,
and since many could not give her the time of day,

I once met a lady.

She made this heart’s pulse fall
upon eyelids, as she slid in closer
to tell her secrets, burning words to lament
this unforgivably stained memory,
some use it for revenge ,
but others don’t have such luxury.

Fear of the Ultimate Rejection,
became self-absorbed just like everyone else,
just not as clever or witty.
Constantly referencing the outside,
determining if it will help me.
In total limbo zones nothing changes
too drastically, till it’s time to leave.
Am I Ready?

I'm falling in love with something hazy
the vagueness just seems to invite me
a magnet energized by closed eyes
that static that charges between balloons and hair
her screaming scarred my ear drums

Alive is an everywhere
just hate to be reminded of the tricks planted in language
to fill in the missing gap
In short, double recreate reality
what is the past but a fiction
it is a sly thing
to try and love

Seeing the line of the dead makes me sad
dreary are the things they prized
like televisions
and monies
there is a circle that repeats,yet
there is always an exit

space starts emitting radiation ballads
fought and tortured on the other side of the conscious mind
seeing realization is noticing the opposites
are both equal and fragile
the line between laughing and crying
is the width of a hair and a change of mind

I haven't been thinking or living.
Living unconsciously is dangerous
relies too much on luck and money.

The world I live in is less determined
that a form.
I am the idea.
Ominous Cloud.

There are too many factors to be remembered,
In each second we are fragmented in so many ways.
There are too many mouths to feed when supplies aren't endless.
Some lose their voice if they are to be ignored.

This is a final call for freedom from memory.
The past is simple in a song, go ahead and live any aspect.
Transcendence at its best, I love the feeling of lightness.
What happened to butterflies? When nervous I only get
Preludes to heart attacks.

Things weigh heavy when they matter,
like a matter of importance.
I wish for this rigid stance to relax,
For strained hands to unclasp.

Each day will pass through me
Like the leaves on a tree

Everyday takes a fake step
in any direction nowhere
Still holding my breath in
A bus that never leaves.

low:
convinced, that it is okay
to be here,
and to rot
here.

"alone"

believe
i don't deserve,
anything more

"why ask for it?"

if those high points
led to disappointment,
gotta look at them
on their own.

"separation;
no continuum."

lost in the fog,
delusional faith
that one day,
a phantom
will save
me
from
here.

"please save me from here."

strike to smite the silence
the demented order
of gathered myths in our mind
a mind of collective potential
the greatest outcome could be
the exodus to nothing
and floating on air beds
and wishing beads.
Bread clouds to eat
and music is everything.

symbols were generated to fool me
and the journey wasn't a riddle
it was right there ready to be over with
it has been waiting before birth
no one completes the journey anyway
just one day
we decide to sit down on the side of the trail
and realize there are grass fields that surround us
and flowers that smell like chemical happiness
that we don't have to sacrifice ourselves for
a means to a living kind of thing.
take a break
for 10 minutes
and then for 10 minutes more.
then we keep hitting snooze to
stay asleep
for every dream