you wonder how you can sit there and tell me whats wrong with my life and not get upset. that you can sit there and get upset about me telling you whats wrong with yours. How else does an ego retaliate then to attack what you see as weak in others. The ego wont admit thats what it sees weak in itself. But the ego can grab on to just that to help itself grow. Ever heard of the pain body? that addiction to being victimised. when negative thoughts just grow or grow, and you become sadder, and madder and a little more confused.
The ¨Im so stupid¨the ¨I cant believe I did that¨ the ¨Im no good¨.
It takes a little bit of honesty with the right mix of awareness. When you see it you stop it.
So many people say how difficult it is to change. How hard it is to live in the now. Have you read those spirit guides and teachers books? At first they ****** me off too, ¨All you have to do is live NOW and not NOW, NOW¨
And all I could think of was how.
How the **** do I live now, If it was that simple Id already be ******* doing it. Well you live now by living now. really is that simple.
But Ill go a step further and let you know what Im starting to figure out, again.
Thought.
Just like being aware of those bad ones be aware of those good ones. The things you love and make you happy. Think of those more often, and think of new things. Don´t forget to include yourself. Maybe Ill sound crazy and tell you to write them down and read them every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to bed. Maybe Ill go a step further and tell you to think of all the things you hate  about yourself and write down the opposite and read those everymorning and everynight.
So don´t sit there and tell me whats wrong with me when thats the exact reason you dont want to look at you.
Everyday is what you make it, might as well make it good.

And if your too lazy to even try, then at least remember this when your tired of not trying any more.

oh, god bless america,
the nation of narcissistic narcoleptics,
and protect her from harm
while she takes her afternoon nap.

oh, god save the stagnant,
all living to die,
so their bellies may be crowded
and their hearts pounding
so fast,
so fast,
for you, heavenly father.

give us this day
our daily fourty-four ounce soft drink
and quarter pound burger...
and don't forget the fries.

and forgive us our intolerance,
just as we...
err...
nevermind.

forgive us,
for we know not what we do.

amen.

finish me.

the story begged.
the notebook, barren...
screaming...
of pages yet to be filled.

of ink yet to be spilled.

finish me.
and feed me to the little children.
their greedy eyes and growing minds.

finish me.
the canvas screamed to be clothed.
feeling desperately exposed.

finish me.
finish me.
finish me.

cries drowned out by the everyday obligations of a writer's life.

To: The fierce hollow spinal cord.
From: Your screaming fractured bones.

Dear unkempt boy,
You’ve thrown your back out of place;
arms extended and neck inclined.
It seemed so innocent to me,
but you cracked and crossed your fingers in precise time.
The bones fold under you,
and still I carry your dwindling body back.
The accident you knew all so well collapsed when you gathered each vertebrae in pride.

Collect and reveal your ignorant ways.
Refuse.
Excuse.
Bemuse.  I am finally jaded.

Just,
       Your twisting structure.