There were times in my life
Where I was satisfied with the world
Now it’s different
Because all it seems to give me is hurt

A void in my chest,
Filled with nothing but emptiness
The same sensation I feel when I’m asleep
Or when I try to rest

It’s hard feeling positive when this life’s against you
It seems all it wants to do is grind you up, best you, bless you,
You’re probably far better off
Got the dreams and inspiration that keep you going and you can’t stop

So don’t
Don’t ever lose your faith
Because when you do you start to question
Your position in the human race

What am I good for,
Am I just for entertainment?
If that’s so, then why the
Element of overwhelming sadness?

I’m not scared, in fact,
Far from it
But it’s just sometimes I struggle
To cope with this ****

I deal with it alone
Gunslinging my way through
Drawing pistols, shots firing
Not enough bullets and I’m *******

I tried pistol-whipping my problems
But I couldn’t
If you’re down on your defenses then
You probably shouldn’t

Call for backup and extra munition
Do it quick and do it soon
Because I left it far too late
And sometimes I feel like I’m doomed

I hate feeling so down
But it’s all I have, a shroud around
Someone who questionably doesn’t deserve
To feel a pain so hard, to be quite so hurt

To feel this **** mad, or to be this **** sad
Is the one consistent thing in life that I’ve ever had
It makes me stop at times, and question my existence
But if this happens to you, shrug it off, be strong in your persistence

Talking helps to solve things
It helps to make me feel pure
It makes me feel good then
Doesn’t last long, it’s no cure

I do try to make it work,
But negativity puts in twice the effort
I was never positive to begin with
So I get twice the hurt

Sadness I can deal with
Because I can make it fade
All I need is a good song
On a cloudy, rainy day

I sing along to sad tunes
And let myself cry it all out
Afterwards I feel a bit better
And my eyes are in drought

So I go outside and smack my bag
The punching bag I have
I like to picture hated faces
When I’m feeling mad

I frame them for my anger
Because they made me go deeply through
And I hate being mad, I’d rather be sad
Is it the same for you?

I called out for help, took half a year to get
But better late than never whenever I feel really upset
I just write a little rhyme, a crazy song a bit like this
It helps at times when I look back and strongly reminisce

Other times it makes it worse, some things you should forget
And when I look back on them I drown in my regret
Some things I should’ve said, others maybe not
But at least I’m not like my other friends who blaze it away with ***

****, where’d that come from?
A well deep down that holds all the **** in this world that I know is wrong?
Sometimes I think that maybe I’m floating at the top
But my psychologist doesn’t agree, whenever I say that she makes me stop

It’s only a voice called Nightmare, my persistent inner critic
Who criticizes my every move, likes to make me feel like ****
He feeds off it, an inner demon set to self-destruct
Telling me everything I do is wrong, that it’s not just the world that’s ******

And I listen, but why should I?
When he asks me to Google tying nooses so I can just ******* die
And it’s only because, sometimes I feel I want to
But don’t listen to these voices, don’t want this to happen to you

I wanna write a goodbye letter sometime, just to have it there
Because if there’s something that makes me scared it’s seeing a loved one’s tear
So if I’m not there, perhaps it’ll make me feel better
I get told I can’t die, but never say never

Humanity has mortality and a lack of morality
Perhaps we all crazy too, insufficient in sanity
But just know, no matter what happens to us all it’s still reality
And you should always see the best in whatever is happening

I know I can’t, or at least I can’t yet
Those things I mentioned before, that drown me in regret?
That’s a part of my world, a part of my experience
**** it, what I’m saying is this **** is our existence

I hate feeling so down
But it’s all I have, a shroud around
Someone who questionably doesn’t deserve
To feel a pain so hard, to be quite so hurt

To feel this **** mad, or to be this **** sad
Is the one consistent thing in life that I’ve ever had
It makes me stop at times, and question my existence
But if this happens to you, shrug it off, be strong in your persistence

I hate my Dad sometimes, he makes me really ******
He has PTSD, takes it out on me and gets away with it
I mean, my step mum moved out, she saw it happen clearly
Did anybody stop and take time to perhaps think of me?

No? Just another waste of time?
A bad investment, a depression that took form and left its basement?
**** it all, I never helped anyone
That’s Nightmare for you, I listen to him when I write songs

He gives me inspiration in a way I guess I feed off him
But it can be difficult sometimes, to let him loose because he slips
Up and takes me down, ironically it’s why I’m writing now
To show you all that if you hear him, don’t listen to the sound

Of a desperate voice in desperate times, let him just die
Don’t even try to talk to him, give up let him cry
Don’t feel bad afterwards, it isn’t ******
It’s survival of the fittest and he’ll eventually wanna hurt her

You got a special someone don’t you? He wants their soul
He will play any card to get a chance to devour them whole
So don’t stop, keep your dreams
And let those pesky Nightmares slip by unseen

I hate feeling so down
But it’s all I have, a shroud around
Someone who questionably doesn’t deserve
To feel a pain so hard, to be quite so hurt

To feel this **** mad, or to be this **** sad
Is the one consistent thing in life that I’ve ever had
It makes me stop at times, and question my existence
But if this happens to you, shrug it off, be strong in your persistence

It may make you stop at times, and question your existence
But if this should happen to you, move along, be strong in your persistence

Where I can't

People just don’t  get it do they?

PolitiX -

There are no good:
-politics
-politicians
-politicos
-policy
-polices

There is only DISTRACT and TAKE!

If it is bad, fake It good
if its fake, fake it real

if it’s obvious make it someone else’s fault
manipulate details and statistics too
lead the questions,
get the right answers for you
Mass Programmng Media
secret Not Saying Anything service
hide behind our own goods

Freedom these days is all about -

Policing

And the illusion you are in

Control

Politics by its very nature can only exist by divide
the greater the divide
the easier to fraction
easier to fraction
eaier to incite aggression and violence
the resulting fear makes us seek peace
we legislate our freedom away putting hope in lies
the greater the distraction,
the easier the take

Peace is an illusion,
a God-like ideal
A frightened little bird hiding in the bough of a tree
barely out for a second
starving to death
confused
and lonely
because the fear of fear is so great

Political Peace is submission and oppression while convincing you
that its in your best interests not to resist or persist.

You are then provided with a guilded cage
distracted by how different the cage is next to you
or the fence that divides you but you are safe?

All policed by consent
the unmerry road to oppression
begins and ends with distraction and take
all selling illusions of peace and happiness
while selling you out

And YOU are too distracted to notice
YOU are killing your family and neighbors
One fear
One prejudice
One judgement
at a time...

Granite tiled floor,
more interesting than Internet,
jagged streaky veins,
dense masculine stones,
polished gunmetal bloom.

Trying to establish patterns, symmetries.
Should I miss my appointment?
There's never time to persist.
Temptatioin of a timeless world.

Just plain and simple
a boring existence
persisting from day to day,
doing nothing nimble
without no resistence
like dust, I'll be swept away.

Folded ripped and unfolded
You see the symmetry and its beautiful
But when you take a step closer you see the emptiness in the tears.
You see the valleys left behind in each crease of every fold
The rugged edges of the rip
Fingerprints left from a sweaty hold
Yes, upon closer inspection I am but the sum of my parts
And often all my parts appear to be disasters
And often they are
I trot around like a work of art
But few see what it took to get that way
How I was folded ripped and unfolded
Few can't see past what it took
They see the holes left in me but not the pretty shapes
And some see the shapes and I wish they'd acknowledge the holes
Still even fewer can comprehend the resulting work
And frankly, Sometimes I'm not sure I do
But I manage
A crippled work of art made beautiful by how neatly she was torn apart
I struggle to hold my new form in the wind and amongst viewers
Try to look like something relatable
And not like life spent too long on me
Worked till it got weary and persisted when really it should have rested its eyes
I try
To uphold my form as though every overworked corner and tear isn't centimeters away from destruction
As though the slightest snag or tug won't leave me hanging
Noticeably Deformed and mishapen
But I stretch and I retract with grace
Perhaps this is how I dance now
my life a pas de deux of trying to hold it all together
Just folded, ripped, and unfolded.

And when you pray
Ask from your heart
And when you pray
Seek from your soul
And when you pray
Sniff around without ceasing
Through your tears
To find the doors
That He has prepared
To brand new frontiers
For His pioneers.
And then -
Knock.

Ideas are like the wind
they come and go
like common cold
they come with goals
like ball and post

some we achieve
others we only perceive

but one thing constantly remains
after they have buried our remains

more will perceive
few will achieve

why?

because some will be cowards
and others will be forward

that's how they will exit
and their ideas exist
in a place where ideas are luxuries
just because they refuse to persist.