To remember the thrill is to feel,
to sense that is preserved in the intellect.
To create the emotion is to feel,
to know that you can counterfit, even if it is sincere.
To live the sentiment is to feel,
to relish being alive.

The ceaseless search
for something unknown;
The reaction of rationalization
before the event;
The result of intellectualization
is mental mill.

Yearning for old times
'causes boredom.
Anguish of past times
'causes dismay.
Boredom and dismay
'causes unrest.

These are the words of a restless mind.
Off and on, reports of dreams to find.
No matter how messed up it is,
Blessed be the unrest.

I
A playing raging guitar
Of a kid with taboo thoughts
The first cigar
Who fired shots of dots...
Don’t care and
The revolt of caring
Be scared and
Be the scare!
The acquaint of survival
The wrath of revival
Is everywhere
Anywhere, not visible too
The wrath is the root of trouble
But the root of solution is not wrath

II
A desire so
Excessive,
Rapacious and
Overweening
Of wealth
A pursuit so
Excessive,
Rapacious and
Overweening
Of status
A need so
Excessive,
Rapacious and
Overweening
Of power
A greed so greedy

III
Slaves of virtual reality
To whom dictatorship is not real
To whom liberality, brutality and unreality
Is not real
But the ticking clock is not sloth
Tick-tock, Tick-tock
Men who walk toward sloth
Tick-tock, Tick-tock
'till old growth
Tick-tock
Loath
Tock

IV
Sit idly-by low self-esteem
Caused by lack of ******
Translated to scheme
And unfortunate dream
For achieving an alleged excellency
Or a lengthy and empty possession
What frenzy
And all for envy

V
Advertising
On bus stops
On train stops
On metro stops
On everything that stops
To make you stop
And start
Over-consumption
Over-indulgence
Over everything
Obesity!
Wealthy
Withholding from the needy
From what they really need
Advertising gluttony

VI
A feature of abstinence
Leads to a lack of extravagance
But there are no angels
Only fallen angels
Or angels about to fall
A feature of desire
Leads to an higher feature
Noisy or hushed
It can't be crushed
It's just fuel swallowed
A tool for lust

VII
Pride is divergent
A dreadfully enemy
Or an inside allied
Pride is divergent

I
In the course of time
Defects commence to notice:
"Once, it was a hero"
Begins to melt
"Once, it was worshiped"
Starts to fade

The desire to be at least half
Becomes a mere illusion
The grief of starting from zero
Not be just a fusion, (I laugh), for
I am my own hero

II
An eternal dilemma: head or heart?

Life experiences repeat themselves over time
Look back, not with nostalgia, but with lucidity
Not to retell the same mistakes, that's stupidity
Rectify the defects, but don't be a mime

Head or heart?

These desires of a distorted mind are such strife
Those promises for life are barely a rind
It's as soon as you get to the point of no return
That you realize the fantasy must burn

Head or heart?

Use the head is an art
Using the heart in the right stead
But use them both is my oath

III
I come from a quiet little town
But I was never the type of let me drown
Lose and gain accents has always been my thing
So bring me the king of seek that we may sing together
That the best man win.
See, without knowing whether all or nothing
Write, until I have abraded skin, so when the time comes
The tought living at my fingers will shut
Sing, bright or heavyhearted
Feel the beat of unchearted drums
Yell by choice until lose my voice
Murmur lower than a subatomic bell
Until gain a tragicomic muse.

*The elocution of my brain has no dues
For art is a perpetual evolution.

Inside it's a dark
Close the eyes
And you'll find
Some confessions
Between screams
From a few seeds
To dark dreams
Web of tears
To keep fears
Breaking threads
Melting threats

How do I look in the light?
What do you understand of me?
We all have demons, it's not so bright
And mines are inside my head (or not).

Drinking until I fall,
Cut my wrists and keep bled,
Hallucinate until my brain turn a hole,
But just inside my head (or not).

Awful demons;
Creepy demons;
Human demons;
Inside my head.
Inside of all individual demons
That's what I see inside my head.

How do I look in the dark?
Am I telling the truth?
If you can't see
It's because I'm a black spot

Inside my head (or not).