You're there behind the window pane--
yes, you're whispering my name.
Every syllable fogging up the glass,
a medium for words elegant and crass.

But you can't love through a wall
and if I can't have your love,
I'd rather nothing at all.  

So even though you can see me; I am not really here,
Even though you can almost feel me; I'm not really near.

Of course as I have an entire life left to live I am wondering what you ate for breakfast.
You ate a chicken quesadilla.
For breakfast???
...wierdo...
but at least I know now
the suspense was killing me.

Now I can't help but wonder what you did today...
Any photos???
You went the bathroom???
GET OUT!!!!

And of course, I want to hear your 'inspirational' (recycled) quote of the day.
"Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”
(classically overused)
MAN THAT GOT ME SO INSPIRED
I WAS SO SAD BUT READING THAT MADE ME FEEL 100 TIMES BETTER!!
20 likes
WOW YOU ARE A GODDESS!

YOU CHANGED YOUR PROFILE PICTURE????
SCOOOOOOREEEE!!!!
Woah, you look so pretty, you did such a good job with the editing (there is a lot of it).
You look nothing like that in person.....
I like your bra...by the way...
10 likes in 3 minutes!!
DUDE
THIS IS LIVING!!!!

Well enjoy your life with the constant need for approval...
Lets see where that takes you...

at first when you take off
the world just looks small

a dollhouse, a miniature world
an amusing punchline to an old joke
a fantasy tinged with g-force and sprite in clear cups

but as the sky darkens and the plane lifts higher

the world seems to drown in blackness
an inky clarity of night not confused by clouds
and suddenly it is as if you are at the top on an ocean
looking at a far away ocean floor
crawling with foreign creatures with all of their bones lit up
over coral reefs of light and movement
parking lots like stationary jelly fish and highways like currents
of neon veins pumping lights and cars

all of the world's exoskeleton is illuminated
and it is beautiful and movable  
it is nature's patterns played out in electricity

but the farther out you go
the more the sharpness and geometry of the roads and cities
attack the eye

and the coral reefs turn to computer motherboards
all of man's ingenuity and beauty no longer draping the world
but ordering it

into squares and jagged lines
into distant pixel pinpricks
into maps

until you're not traveling through the world
but over it

Bottles all around him, half empty,
as he lies on the floor.
Feels absolutely nothing,
knows nothing because he is...

Just a boy,
losing hope,
losing faith.

He has,
no control,
of everyday.

Won't run out of beer, he's got plenty,
so he drinks some more.
Drowns himself in his dreams,
has millions of dreams because he's...

Just a boy,
on the run,
from his fate.

Because he,
can't carry,
his own weight.

Bottles all around him, empty,
as he lies dead on the floor.
Feels absolutely nothing,
knows nothing because he is...

nothing.

I stumbled upon a wishing well while walking through the woods. It told me it’s fair warning and I nodded that I understood. It told me I could have three wishes but careful I must be, for what I really ask for must be something that I need. It told me I could ask for things I want for myself or others. It said I could be rich and famous, or give the best to my sons or daughters. To that I said “hey take it easy, I just want a drink of water.” I didn’t come here seeking things, so you really shouldn’t bother.  I’ve made my life with my two hands and it isn’t much but it’s mine. I have a small house and happy family and they are doing just fine. See some people have the lives they want and don’t need anything else, so give me some water as a good well should but keep your wishes to yourself.

To lose the robust and ephemeral vitality,
is waking up in dazed desolate imitation,
that creases and crinkles euphoric principality.

Blades of grass, sharp tipped spears of unreality.
A chilling, a challenged negation;
to lose the robust and ephemeral vitality.

Spinning round the ugly formality,
are snickers, unshy sneers of an evil salvation,
that creases and crinkles euphoric principality.

Thrilling no longer a verb, piano key pressing its precious mortality
into her throbbing thrashed temple dictation.
To lose the robust and ephemeral vitality.

A ****** numb soul with the criticality
of skeptics, chewing their lips, a dead cell castration
emotional stripping, slipping into complete impromptu filtration.
That creases and crinkles euphoric principality.