Let's break all the tension with the pretense of my presence.
Yes, I'm insensitive--but there's no other incentive others can give--
And while I'm not sure I could prevent it, I swear to no god I'm inventive!

Yes,
My hatred is incessant--ever present--and it's what I hold most sacred.
I'm a naughty narcissist with a nasty list of wasted kisses,
And I won't say that I'll miss 'em, 'cuz I'm the type who never misses.

I'm a hopeless romantic with a new sense of Tantric hope,
It's the antics of a frantic mind, but I'm too calm to cope.
They say I'm a raving, violent--rarely silent--tyrant with a craving
for the obscene,
Though, while I'm mean, I'm rarely seen within a mob or in a scene.

I'll admit I've got a streak, but--if you'd stop to take a peek--
You'd see a Buddhist, not a nudist, who's less a demon than a geek.
I'm oblique and I'm obtuse (do these math puns work for you?) yet I'm rarely never right;
Get my angle? Catch my drift? I might thrash, but, man, I'm thrift!
Hold on shift: I'M SCREAMING NOW!!
Don't know why; don't have a cow!
Remember that? That 90's rap? Look at me then; that piece of crap!
Shot down! Torn up! Shut in! Turned out!
Lips are sealed; inside I'd shout,
'Bout just how bad I wanted out!
Enraged and crazed; cravin' razors; a victim hiding from all saviors!
Turned to the pen to brace for the knife,
Started writin' and saved my life.
It's funny to say my life got better the day I started a suicide letter...

But letters turned to words and those words became whole worlds,
And before my very eyes a whole legacy unfurled!
I was GOD--not just a slob--but a shaper of all things,
And the schemes that I'd been dreaming shifted into scribing,
And I never stopped since then; it's why I'm still alive!

So my insanity became vanity as calamity turned to amity.
Sheer pessimism became untamed narcissism,
But if the mind's a prison then consider me jail broken.
Outspoken, re-awoken; take a moment to let that soak in.
That a boy doubtful of tomorrow could ditch the sorrow,
And become an immortal--though immoral, not totally amoral.

So yea, I've got my faults; I'm a sensory assault,
And while I don't mean to offend I'm just a product of the ends.
Played with fire; I got burned.
Dared to aspire; I was turned.
So I inquire to you sires as I march out of the fires:
You've seen my darkness and know my story--beginning, middle, end--
My name is Nathan Squiers, do you wanna be my friend?

As we collide together in the wage of war,
I’ve become star-stricken by the betrayal of beauty.
The frozen lake’s depths beckon for me to fall into their dark grip.
And while I watch as metal clashes and cries ignite the night,
I find myself succumbing to the lake’s seduction.
The flames of torches envelop me in their warmth,
And the last tree in an otherwise frigid tundra,
Births its final sign of life as the tree sighs its final exhale and falls into winter’s embrace.
Lying back in a puddle of my last breath of life, I greedily take in the sights of beauty.
As my comrades fall beside me, I stare up into the full moon’s bright gaze,
The moon offers only a wicked wink towards me, as my sight grows darker.
No more can I see the final petal,
No more can I even feel the lake’s call to me.
And, with my last thoughts but a mimicry of the beauty around me,
I let my last breath fall upon my frozen lips and allowed the darkness to envelop me.

When it all boils down to it...

We truly are a momentary blip on a cosmic radar;
A momentary cluster of elements
Blessed with an incredibly limited-yet-inflated programming.

Now define "reality."

But we waste our time with fear and hate;
We concern ourselves with the mundane and the fleeting;
We invest in indulgences that leave us feeling more and more empty.

You are a single drop of water floating in a vast infinity of the cosmos.
The timeline will perceive you the very same way
You perceive that 1/10000th of a second that happened last week
(When you remembered a funny joke and giggled at nothing)

I see hysterics in the world;
Find the same thing when my escape goes digital.
I see people who think too highly of themselves...
(as though the end of their journey will represent a different death than our own)
I see people who think so lowly of themselves...
(that they're willing to throw away the splendor and mystery of tomorrow just to escape the hells of today)

When will we accept that we are human?
Wonderfully terrible, terribly wonderful;
Brilliantly stupid and idiotically ingenious;
Generous degenerates; selfish saints;
Complex-yet-simple humans!
Nothing more and nothing less!

Live not to be immortal,
But to show what greater gift limitations offers us:
Greater appreciation of what each moment represents.
Live for yourself,
So that, when you find yourself at he end of that road and looking back,
You can say "**** yea; I made that fleeting moment my own."

This is not said to scare or intimidate;
It's said to INSPIRE!
You ARE brief!
You ARE insignificant!
So stop concerning yourself;
Anything and anybody can waste that already precious time.
Rid yourselves of the poisons
That would turn the beautiful translucence of the water droplet representing you into a putrid blot of poison that the Universe would sooner forget.

**** yea...
The ***** let me out: heart and soul!
All mine now; just me against the world.

(But we'll worry about the Apocalypse later)

For now? A kiss? A caress? A tribute; I demand it!
Been too long since I tasted the honey of a woman--
Locked away from ***** like a celibate ******--
It's ******* barbaric!

(But we'll worry about the Apocalypse later)

In the whole-wide-word
There's a world of holes made to be wide.
Ripped loose...
Ripped loose...
Ripped loose...

*(But we'll worry about the Apocalypse later)

The gated gap between us--built of miles and time zones--
Made you oblivious; so certain that you'd be blind to my wounds.
You cherished every rolling hill and stretching road that kept you alone,
But hills were climbed and roads traversed so you'd be consumed!

I'd nearly died so many times--my own hand my fated doom--
But you'd built your walls to lock me out, and barred away my cries.
Well, old man, now's the time to see you've only built yourself a tomb,
And that, while my words live on, it shall be your arrogance that dies.

Ignorant, old condescending fool; a rotting sack of wasted promise,
I've built my throne from the bones of the soldiers you've sent--
Your heinous words, you ignoramus ****, are a hymn to my success--
And I'm ready to break your spine (since your soul's already bent)!

Tell me now about your paints while I scribble with your blood!
Come now, dear father, come bask in your flood!

I'll open veins above you and reign with a rain of ink!
You think I'd be just like you? Here comes another think!
I'm twice the man with four times the wit;
All the grit without an ounce of ****!
Let me slit my throat on quill-pen tip,
And watch you choke upon my quip.
Your ***** are tethered to a weathered brick of bitter remorse,
While I conduct a mantra diction of contradicted course.

I won't say you're dead to me; you're worth much more intact.
While there's many who can fit the mold, you help me construct losers--
The fodder I write just to slaughter; I've killed you frequently, in fact--
So when I need a worthless sack of **** you're the one I choose, sir!

So thanks for that, you beatnik ****; I'll **** it on your epitaph!
And I'll do it all for free!
This ain't a vindictive son bellowing slander just for grandeur, no sir!
This is an oath to an old oaf that, though I can't remember your voice,
You WILL remember me!