sorry for the mediocre formatting

my "poetry" (if you are so inclined to call it that) happens over the span of weeks. i write something in the haze of depression, think "oh god, that's pretty bad" and move on. then a few weeks, or months, or even a year later, i come back to it, think... "hey... this is kinda relatable!" and work from there.

but it's relatable in a bad way. in a way i wish it wasn't. i would someday like to come back to a poetry piece of mine and not remember that feeling i poured so deeply into my writing. to see the mad ramblings of a hollowed out loser and think "man, what the **** was i thinking when i wrote this?"

for now, all i can do is continue to stitch together these half hearted attempts at putting words to emotions, at creating transitions that sound pleasant in nature and endings that are a satisfying close. god, it's so hard. i don't even know if i'm talking about poetry anymore.

okay, that's all. another proverbial blog post done. wow! who knew it was this easy?

goodnight, folks!

woo hoo

i literally only write poetry when i'm depressed. if you could even call this poetry. cuz honestly it seems more like a little jumble of words with sporadic spacing to me. but whatever. art is what i make it. eye of the beholder. if i call this poetry, **** right it is! or something like that.

it's been a long while. i wish i could claim it's because i haven't been depressed. god, that's the dream! but, alas, i have simply... been empty. i still am. but desperation settles deep and i needed to write something.

i despise (to reiterate - DESPISE) the poems on this account. but it feels cheaper and ******* to remove them and pretend they didn't exist. like, yeah it is dumb that i wrote faux artsy poems about love and *******. all caps story about losing myself? i feel sick just thinking about it. but that's the **** i wanted to write! so be it! i'm sure i'll look back on this poem in a year or so and feel the same way. perhaps that is self growth! :)

here is the starting verse (not sure if that's what it's called? do not know poetry terms very well) to this vent-y poem that i ended up removing because i didn't think it fit very much. but i feel bad letting it turn into dust and would like to give it a warm thank-you and farewell here:

i'm so sick of
these excuses,
this "executive
dysfunction" thing,
these late-night tears
and week-long
procrastinations.

it is perhaps the truest statement of all in this entire poem for me. and i do feel a slight remorse at deleting it so. feels dishonest; at least this dissuades that guilt a little.

you (if you are reading this; perhaps no one will and it is simply a shout into the endless void of a grayish-whitish poetry site) may wonder "why is this person writing so much in the notes of a mediocre vent poem? can't they just make a blog?" and i would tell you it's the exact message of this poem.

everything i do is a shout into the void. the internet is sort of like a very crowded street, but everyone is wearing headphones. even though it is highly likely no one is ever going to read this, there is the slight possibility they will. someone may hear over their blasting music/podcasts/whatever they listen to! and oh, the self esteem boost i would get! at just the THOUGHT! at the sight of "10 views" ! what a dream!!!

and that is why i write all this nonsense here. my proverbial blog post. i hope someone sees it. they don't have to read it; i just want them to see this big fat block of grayish letters (not sure if there's other themes on hello poetry but i just use the basic ***** regular mode) and at LEAST think "who the **** would write this ? i have to scroll all the way past this? for ****'s sake" i would like to be the pebble in someone's shoe for a moment. but hopefully less annoying.

well. that is all! i can only put off the next day for so long. at one point i have to accept it is coming regardless.

i hope you have a wonderful day. goodnight and farewell!!!!

nothing ever changes

been thinking bout the question of 'what really is art?' is there a line that ever needs to be drawn? does the artist themselves need to know the meaning behind it, or is it based on what the viewer gains?

i had a discussion with a buddy a few weeks ago on the topic of modern art. the concept of art has become so vague (not necessarily a bad thing) but often it is "faux deep"-- and then rich people purchase it so they can brag about having it in their houses. perhaps the problem lies in those who create "abstract art" with the intent of selling it for an obscene amount of money, rather than bestowing it with genuine meaning. but then again, if someone finds actual value in a piece of work, even if it's not the meaning the artist intended, should that praise be given to the artist?

anyway, this poem is nonsense.

oldish poem (few months) that i just updated a lil. i hate making titles

over the summer i tried to write some poetry when i was feeling especially depressed

it's nice to get my feelings out and also i liked being able to look back on particularly rough moments

but i found a lot of the time i'd feel empty beforehand, it was an Unknown Emptiness... and once i wrote the poetry, i still felt the same emptiness but now I Knew to an extent WHY i was feeling so empty... and somehow, the knowledge was worse

i'm so young and i have so many incredible opportunities. it's absurd i feel so lost. but i am floating aimlessly...

i don't know.  i love to ramble.

got a big *** lump in my throat right now lol. i think i need a therapist

im in college and its terrifying

this is an old poem

im currently really hyperfixed on a certain content creator and it's bummin me out... i feel like every second i spend watching him is a waste of time; yea, i get the whole "if u enjoy it its not a waste of time" but i still feel a wave of guilt when i become self aware of my obsession and it really freaks me out

i like obscure animal names... beauty in the unknown maybe, yadda yadda

bro i've got a lot to get offa my chest

no worries at all

i am depressed

i think this is a nice poem. or nice message, at least. not sure if i truly take its message seriously , though. funny how i spew “life lessons” as if i am superior yet i never follow my own advice

i appreciate your words,
even if i cannot make them out;
emotion doesn’t need words,
art can be felt

i wrote this back in nov 2018. i was genuinely goin thru some stuff then and it's almost nice to think abt how much things have improved since then :)

dont know what the purple nails things was abt but im not gonna change it because i want to keep it the way it was ok :-)

edit: this is depressing now

hope this does not come off as religious: my meaning is much simpler than i put it in this poetry here.

i do not believe in god as the bible states him. i do not believe there is an almighty being in the sky watching us, that there is a heaven and a hell after our death.

i think of god as a feeling. he is what pushes us to do good. we all need god in our lives, although it may be in different ways. he is the reminder that heaven and hell exist on earth and that we have all experienced both. he is the reminder that we have faced **** and yet we are still here. he is laughter and he is love. he is the good parts of life, he is what too many of us lack.

and so i love him.

this is not poetry

art has died

miss u god. xoxo.

**** **** ****!

don't swear.....the children are listening

they'll hear it eventually

well....the children must grow up someday, i suppose

**** **** ****!

**** **** ****!

weewoo weewoo weewoo

red and blue red and blue

blue bruises red pens

blue sky red

red

read

don't leave me on read :(

it's
too
hot in california.
and my cat wants to eat my grapes.
and god doesn't exist anymore to me-
our fate is in our hands, now.
no more excuses.

</3

</3

love me :(

aye it's ya boy 'hiraeth' (totally gonna change that) here from a long break, back with more terribly written poetry. enjoy, and please get me attention- i crave it.

inspired by ee cummings! a poem i wrote that i may turn in for school (mostly likely not).

i've been gone for a while! and i will be gone for a while again, most likely. i have not been writing poetry like i used to. i miss it. but it also felt like a burden. it is hard to explain.

what happened? i looked deep inside and found nothing.

how do i replace what has gone missing?

you'll never find someone, and that's the saddest part. sadder than the fact that i will probably never find someone either, because i've accepted it. you still believe someone like that is real.

quick write. just wanted to get something off my chest.

you're not fooling anyone, and i'm tired of it.

i am gently trying to let go of the past, but it is holding on tightly and i am not strong enough to shake it off.

im running out of ideas. i can barely breath. those who know me, look closer. maybe i am not who i seemed to once be.

edit: i'm fine

i actually wrote this one a couple of months ago and only found it again today.

i would do anything to feel warmth again

it was like eeny, meeny, miny, moe or whatever;
we knew what we wanted, even if we pretended we didn't.
so we'd pick the one (whether it was the flower with the even petals, or the item we'd start with) that we knew would give us the favorable outcome. we just like humoring ourselves.

also i couldn't think of a good title,, sorry!!!

just some stupid silly thing i wrote in five minutes because i was bored; please don't take it seriously!!!