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Amanda Apr 2018
Congratulations,
You got what you wanted.
You saw your goal, now you’ve reached it, now the real work begins.
You were brought here for a purpose, we saw your potential and now you must fly.
What do you mean your wings haven’t developed yet?
You were born for to fly so how dare you land on the ground.
We’re here to support you,
Just as long as you say the right things and make all the right moves,
But oh wait, you don’t know it all?
That’s okay, sally is waiting at the door, does she maybe want this more then you do?
It doesn’t matter that you’ve done it right 997 times, I found 3 times you didn’t so shame on you.
We will judge you, and oh we are listening,
Even when you think you can breathe again...
wait, you need to breathe?
The fire in your eyes makes you look like a crazy person,
There are people here who don’t care, so neither should you.
But get it right all the time.
Care to not care to care is to win,
And all I want is to make sure you succeed...
Hold on, did you think you would succeed?
Time is money, but you didn’t talk for long enough.
Spend more money to make more money,
We have expectations around here and clearly you aren’t living up to them.
I don’t care about your struggle, remember your place, you are a number on a blackboard and it is starting to erase you...
You stand out to much. Fit in but stand out, you were born to shine
But perhaps sparkle a little less, ok?
Your life outside of here need not matter,
No one cares, there will always be someone who has it worse then you.
I see you brought a lunch today, there are starving kids in Africa after all...
Stand up, sit down, become one with a wall
Can’t you see that we believe in equality around here?
Yes I’m listening but clearly you don’t understand that we just don’t care.
We care enough to pretend we care, do you understand?
Oh I see, you aren’t a shell of a person, you haven’t lost you humanness yet?
Give it time, you’ll be like us one day...
walking around here, living a life that nobody knows anything about.
Oh, you like to talk about real stuff? You actually want to be a real person?
Yeah, you’ll get bitter too.
Let the bitterness take control, become such a happy person on the outside but on the inside you’re already dead.
Oh wait, you aren’t like one of us?
Remember, this is what you wanted.

How does it feel to have it all?
Rajinder Apr 2018
Leaves swoon
as fog hugs the tree
kissing its pores
with open wet lips
the breeze hisses in jealousy
the sun
looks away,
the sparrow
laments
her lost love.

On a foggy morning.
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
I wish, I could time travel to 40s.
  When,
Imagination used to be colourful
Songs, filled with presence
Ponds, serene deep
And,
The sky, clear blue.

I wish, I could time travel to 40s.
To witness, How,
The Humans were made Guinea pigs
WHO started to crawl
Penicillin promised its magic.

I wish, I could time travel to 40s.
When,
Mustache use to rule this world
Charlie was my smile Icon
****** has nonsense to tell
And,
Albert was lamenting.

I wish back, days of 1940s.
When,
Trust has everything to do.
Theme: Back to the past
Mystic Ink Plus Feb 2018
No more to say
So this goes on

My retired brain
Theme: Then, nothing matters.
Shared from my Anthology, Canvas: Echoes and Reflections, 2018.
Aidan Derocher Feb 2018
triumph shatters through sadness
leaving shards for the rest to be flayed by
few find intimacy and break free
while we are consumed by perpetual envy

i cry to know that i am exempt
left behind in solitude
for who could find solace in me
who is more nuisance than friend

love, lust, and loss
primordial since existence
inexplicably bound
identical

one may believe in relations
another may succumb to lust
yet either way
the ultimatum is loss

so I plea
to all compatriots in this flood
let those fears be washed away
support, love, be loved
as we will eventually drown
I am tied to God’s victorious chariot.
He rides into the World as our champion,
and I,
am a bondservant and son.

Some days I am carried along by His horses
and some days I run alongside.
Some days, I just want to stop.
“Oh God, how much longer must we live in this fallen world?”
“Until, ALL have heard of my name.”

So I stand up, brush off the dirt
wipe away the tears
and look ahead to see those who don’t know Him,
and the tears fall again.
dear child:

you are so young. with a quiet demeanor and screaming conscience, you watched the one person in this world you looked up to and loved the most burn herself to the ground.

every snort, every syringe, every cut; you were there. you will help her, you will enable her. you will watch her crash and burn; but you will watch her arise from the ashes and be reborn.

you will blame yourself until it is seared in your mind that you are a part of her addiction. you will become addicted as well, soon. you will take blades to your skin and pray for the courage to push down. you will swallow handfuls of pills, praying for some release.

you will begin your elegant downward spiral as you begin to smoke and steal and drink and starve and manipulate and insert every single chemical you can into your body so you can forget what you have done and what it means to be what you are.

you will search for meaning where there is none. this search will drive you to the brink of madness. you will drop so much acid that the hallucinations you experienced won't go away. you will permanently change your brain and your life forever.
you will believe that it was all your fault, and you will never forgive yourself.

you will encounter demons in the smiling faces of your friends and family. yet utterly desperate and fed up, you will go on a serial killer spree; murdering every ******* creature that tormented and plagued you with endless misery.

this, of course, is in your head; as the doctors will tell you. it wasn't real. but you aren't convinced. you have  brought yourself to madness, and you insist on finding the truth. things are going to be hell, but hold on to that boy.

he is your knight in shining armor. your soulmate. your saving grace. he will help you get and stay sober. you will lose and find friends in strange places.

keep writing.

keep dreaming.

keep ******* fighting

because no matter how much you want to give up,
it will all be worth it for the people you shall help, and the lives you will change.

you have limitless potential to reach infinite heights and find your pure gold philosophy.
December 5th, 2014

a letter and reminder to my younger self.

it gets better, I promise.
it's a constant stream of consciousness, the ultimate truth about how art and inspiration are just your perception and interpretation of life and the reality around you. listen to a song, and pause as the narration flows through your mind like sand through your hands – slipping through the hourglass and never staying quite on key. when your mind is always two steps ahead of the ink.

bury me with a pen, because god knows i’ll forever live in this altered state, and i’m destined to die here.

it’s about how everything makes you feel – how you’re more than human because you understand the true meaning behind the infinite universe and everything encompassing it. a super(ior) perspective. forever a self born monster with the hungry desire to dissect all in sight; until it means anything.

with all synapses firing, you understand the theories and ideas of the great intellectuals; the divine knowledge of utmost reality – art, beauty, life, humanity, and enlightenment. then you reach the darker side of the path; the bruised affair kept hidden from sight – the truth and knowledge and understanding of the mind of the serial killer, the sociopath, the ******; and the overwhelming desire to act upon it all. an unbearable struggle and battle within yourself to shut out the violence, to mask the hate and brutality – tucked in a corner for later analysis.

the truth is, this is enlightenment. ultimate inspiration and insight to reality. this state of being reaches your infinite heights, and these ideas are your pure gold philosophy. shine on, you crazy diamond.
november 10th, 2010.

this was me at my sickest, most addicted state. this is an echo of the worst schizophrenic episode I ever had.

I was only sixteen years old.

this was not truth. this was NOT enlightenment. this was the worst secret and delusion to ever haunt my soul.
I want to crawl out of my skin and transcend. I want to feel all the things I have forgotten that don't have names. I want to slip away. I want to laugh freely. I want to feel the way I used to. 

this bed is stripped down to the mattress and it shows all the faults and failures. it knows my name, bears my secrets, and held me up for four years. this ceiling houses my soul. these walls have both imprisoned me and set me free.

Laura gets emotional whenever we go to the towneast NA meetings. she says “this is the room I got clean in.” 

this room is where I rose and fell; transformed and burnt the remains of my monstrosity. I have evolved and endured within the confines of these walls. the scent of psychosis and freedom still lingers in the wallpaper of the bathroom after a long hot shower.

I have changed my entire existence within this room. I have lost my mind and soul in here. I have been empty and numb, trapped on this mattress. I was determined to make it the last thing I ever saw, once.

I have been to heaven and to hell on this bed. now I question if either exist. everything I have ever known, I have learned in here. everything I have ever questioned happened within this room.

I want to burn it to the ******* ground.
December 6th, 2013
a lament of psychosis, addiction, recovery, and resilience.
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