I'm so used to having the world in my hands.
At least it feels like it.
I'm so used to the world disappearing every now and then.
It's a bad sense knowing the world might disappear any moment no matter how hard you grip it in your hands.
It's bad that I'm okay with the door being open, I'm prepared for a few more scars.
I'm okay with dreaming.
I'm okay with pain.
I'm okay with not knowing where to go.
I'm okay with scars on my knuckles.
I'm okay with trying for whats worth it at the moment.
I'm okay with consequences.
I'm okay with not knowing what to write about sometimes.
I'm okay with giving up addictions, I found a new one, at least for the moment.
I'm okay.

I was riding my bike earlier today.
Drops of rain were hitting my head, and I didn't bother going home anytime soon.
I talk a lot of ignornace, is it really bliss?
I try not to, but I'm the perfect imperfect human.
I got off my bike and took a deep breathe, clasped my fingers, and sat indian style in the park I go to everyday.
I listened to the kids play, I listened the wind moving the tree branches violently, I listened to parents telling their children they won't be there much longer because of the storm coming.
The clouds felt so close to my head, but I'd probably need a million ladders, each ten feet tall to see above them.
And to think sometimes I feel like I'm walking on the sun, imagine how many billions of ladders I need to feel like a million bucks.
My mom always asks me why I always leave home, and go out for long periods of time on my bike.
I dont think she understands I dont feel home, at "home".
So I'm out looking for one in mother natures heart.
It's 8:25 pm and I'm at the park again, no ones here, for safety I guess.
It looks like the sky is angry, its roaring a lot.
I dont think I should write about anyone anymore,
I feel like I'm not putting my mouth to use if I just write about someone and posting them in this website, thinking hopefully they'll click the link on my Instagram bio and read what I wrote about them.
I figured I'd say what I felt about them face to face now, it's better.
Also I wont cry as much at night when I reread what I wrote about them, when they're gone.
I have a lot of poeple to express to, eye to eye.
I owe it to them.
They've made their mark in my darkest of days.
So I'll use the best of my vocal chords to clear up their gray skies when they look up.
I hope to take away the gloomyness in your souls, because I feel a lot for you.
I meditated today, I forgot I was even alive for a few minutes until I snapped, soemtimes I wish I could meditate forever.
I don't know where people are going with anything, neither do I.
I just enjoy filling up notebooks with nonsense, and feeling happy.

My vision isn't as vivid as before, but I still notice everything.
There's some things that stick to me overtime and my 3rd eye is always open.
My dreams are based on conclusions, on brought to life "what ifs".
I wouldn't say dreams, because I'm afraid to sleep, so I'll call them nightmares.
The first time we slept together, I felt love like I never did.
It wasn't even the ******* causing this confusing feeling.
It was the look in your eyes that made me realize that this was more than just a few love letters.
I haven't felt heavy in a while, my tears don't need sympathy.
My cheeks deserve tides of my tears.
I'm nothing but a lonely star surrounded by tons of other stars that feel like tomorrow will deliberately break barriers in your soul.

I'm in love with her.


The story is being written within the doubts and sureness about eachother.

I might work in construction this summer, and lift heavy things to maintain a one bed apartment payed with labor in what determines your place in society; green paper

I might become a professional cross country runner, and wear my legs out every day to earn a circular carved piece of gold that I'll wear around my neck to feel superior for a few minutes, to feel like I've made an impact, when my own weight can't even make an impact on the concrete I step in with every stride I take, and sweat coming down my face like Pompeii

I might be a druggie to eliminate misery for a number of hours, to crack smiles I don't really feel because the key to my happiness broke in half while trying to open the twelve inch thick steel door in my heart...
So I'm using chemicals to melt away all of the metals in the periodic table that made this door impossible to break down even if I had a positive attitude, and an army throwing grenades at it that won't even leave a scratch on it..

So I'll be sitting next to this door, watching these compounds I took into my helpless body destroy the surroundings that resemble my sadness, and be left alone with an indestructible door, and all that I will want to feel... I wont

I'll become one with numbness, and become a still emotion in a dark place with a big door I will never open...
I'll admire its strength so hopefully my shaky hands can clench, and grow to be as powerful and brave enough to attack as the door defends what I aspire to be..
a human with meaning in showing my teeth and muscles in my face, that are truthfully moving without the help of a substance that deceives my feelings for hours
I might've broken the key, and my fists might be bruised and cracked, but there's no limits to will

But time is digging my grave without me moving a single bone in my body
To be looked back at as a legend that did nothing

I'll be posted on a plaque with my name and spirit in it, on a shaped piece of stone that people will stare at on a sunny day wearing all black while listening to the cries of my mother

"WHY DID HE HAVE TO GO, WHY HIM?"

"WHY GOD, WHY?"

Destiny doesn't exist, neither does coincidence
Time isn't for everyone, but it'll be mine
I won't have to rush to feel "free" from this "freedom" I'm living in
My consciousness will know, when my time is due
So mother, nothing will be your fault
Brother, I don't mind you bashing on me
Sister, I don't get mad when you scream at me for no reason, we all have bad days,
And father, I don't care if you never loved me,
It wont be your fault
Just understand that time gives and takes..
Thats all there is to it...

Time; humans limit to experiences

So now you know why I make bad decisions, now you know why I do certain things.


Now you know to blame time.

gulping unprescribed vyvanse, to focus on material mind deceiving things on social media to see what all the fuss is about

social media is a place for the "malaventurados" locked in screens, purposely

why are they scared to explore the wilderness

be one with  nature, breathe the air people from a million years ago were breathing, breathe the same air dinosaurs were breathing if you believe in that prehistoric timeline

isn't it great?

we're jailed in technology, in "innovation", in "better solutions to meet new requirements"

we're walking on innovative grids thinking it's okay to cherish the unrealistic programmed websites made by those who weren't saved in time

exploring the internet, is like exploring ways to lose the key to freedom, to lose the key to the feel of soft grass on your feet, to lose the
to key to the feel of air brushing against your skin

be one with the air Adam breathed
be one with the good and evil
be one with the sun that looked over at Jesus Christ when he was being crucified
be one with the God you believe in that loves you as much as Cane hated Abel
be one with the earth, because today is a new chapter in the earths rotation
today's a new series of self made bibles for artists to grasp, and paint on a smooth textured canvas
today's a new TV show for poets to emulate in sentences along with metaphors, comparing love to pain

be one with what's been here for you all along, from the ocean that's plentiful with everything you need to be happy

delusions made me believe i was really living on a platform of some kind,





     now i'm one with nature like a leaf in the wind moving from place to place during autumn.