It's midnight-thirty
Cast party
This week was a lot
But it wasn't as bad as last year
Last year only went till ten-thirty
Sweaty ping-pong
Encore encore
Much loud
Many fun
Thanksgiving celebration tomorrow
Today I guess
Gotta wake up
It's fine
I don't need sleep
Do sheep sleep?
Probably
Counting sheep
To get to sleep
Ugh my brain
This rant is what happens to me at midnight
Let's see how it is tomorrow
This morning

in quiet of the nights
his demons comes out
and begin to rule over his mind
attacks are made
wounds re-open
and bleeding doesn’t stop
as he confront his demons
with his head high but knees on the ground

memories, promises
failed dreams, enemies
and 19 years of life
flash before his yes
everything start to pull his nerve
with screams so loud, a cursed man’s curse
his house is his grave
and there are cries in his silence
begging for help and lord’s forgiveness

the clock pointing to midnight
the walls are coming closer and closer
i’m going mad
my biggest fears begins to rule over my mind

scared of my own thoughts
scared of voices that tells me to die
i would put my hands on ears
and close my eyes

the paper says “i’m depressed”
stuck between haunting midnights
a fight between life and death
have no clue where i shall seek shelter

Happy Misery

Buckethead daydreaming reality midnight sun inside his Bucketheadland my outside moon midday fantasy night-dreaming Buckethead.

Exact chaos organized figuratively.

I have so often wondered why the rose in the yard kept being a rose when everyone else is a dandelion,
or why it would recite light when midnight is still in the land’s arms.

When the spring rages,
and the rain dry of its songs,
when the colors are famished
of their sky,
when the stars abed fail to rise,
this rose is unfazed.
ever flamboyant on the stage,
gliding gracefully on ebony ice,
this rose has a will of a cactus.

Its the middle of the night,
I have this pit in my stomach.
Its a sinking feeling,
I cant stop it.
I need help,
I cant ask for it.
Feels like hell,
I cant get out of it.
Im sinking,
Deeper and deeper,
To the depths of despair.

In the middle of midnight,
Night and morning kiss and part:
Parting is such sweet sorrow.