Seek not to impress others:
such affirmation is mercurial at best.

Seek self-fulfillment instead:
a life well-lived is a life coveted.

Compromising One's true Self
is the truest form of selling out.

World we live in
Architects are we
Choices are
The building blocks
And truth, the base
Most of the times
We falter
With our choices
We construct
With vision obfuscated
Soon we see
Piles of rubble
Where many tales
Are lost, forever
Relegated to obscurity

Speaking One's mind
isn't always the best idea.
Sometimes, One is much better off
keeping it to One's self.

Try doing what I do:
carry a pen and notebook all the time
and write down those thoughts;
transmute thy darkness into a muse.

Make it constructive
rather than destructive,
lest it poison your life
as opposed to enriching it.

Words flow languidly
Stream of consciousness
Enriches the memories
I am with me, in silence
Realization dawns over
Every idea sprinkled
Over the garden of dreams
Many flowers bloom
None the same
Multitude of colors
Fills the space
Otherwise, devoid of meaning
Mesmerizing dreams
Wake me up from slumber

They used to call
him
the young genius
now they call
him
the old recluse,
holed up in his
shack on the Mad River,
A garden of grow
in the back corner,
Always a **** for me and you.

He sits out on
his little patio
those bottle fed
cats
all running around
chasing ghosts
this way and that.

Pink camillas
white roses
silken dried out hydrangeas,
Spirits in the faces of the flowers.
Red berries
the bird's bar
a bar fight breaks out every evening.

We visit him there
on Friday afternoons
sun setting
sun high in the blue sky.

He finger ****** his
way through life,
Where ever he stopped,
People's lives changed,
He, searching for the words
to heal others pain
until compassion fatigue
set in,
Now he can only relate
to others
in small quantities of moments
too much pain felt
from
without within.

He is like his river,
a madness,
always different/always the same.
The sanest person we ever
knew.
Just watch your eyes, though,
with a look
he'll see right through you,
All your secrets will be revealed.

The young genius
the old recluse
if you need some healin'
go ahead and see'em,
He'll give you just a
hint,
Even if he's not feeling,
He'll take you down to
the Mad River's shore
give you a glimpse of you
and
bring you back home again
for more.

Shaman's on their way
have nothing much better to do
and nothing else to prove.

I walk upon heaven and earth
I walk through hell with ease
all is suffering, all is love
I embrace it all with serenity,
when my heart is at peace

Everything is a joke;
you get it or you don't.

If you don't:
the joke is on you.
If you do:
the joke is on you.

You see, in Life,
it must be learned
how to laugh with it,
to address it head on;
lest ye be forever ******
wallowing in darkness, fear, and ignorance.

Inexorably,
we all are victims
of cosmic punch lines.

Laugh with it:
it always gets
the last laugh.

What you believe is true today
may be proven false tomorrow.

Accept such change as it happens.