"What is truth?", Pilate then asked,
turning his back, about to leave,
"I bear-", replied the Lamb of God,
"... witness to truth. The truth is me."

A question posed so long ago,
but to this day ferments the mind,
as though a cataract which grows
to leave the eye completely blind

and doom a Man to only seeing
the world as flat and lacking depth,
a half-a-lie or  half-a-meaning,
but bear a cross of equal weight.

She asked me
If I had ever been
In love

Then I
Realized that I
Had never not been
In love

I realized
I  wanted
Nothing  
Other than love

I think there is
Only one
Off-ramp
From the journey
Of love

That off-ramp
Is judgment

A critical heart
Combined with
A critical eye
Fills one with
The opposite
Of love—judgment

Judgment colors
The mind with
Negativity

Until the sin of
Judgment
Is displaced
By a lust
For love,
One will not find peace

When love invades
One’s heart
The body finds peace

When love is abundant
And bountiful
There is no fear
Of wasting love
Nor spilling love
For love can grow
Anywhere

So am I
In love?

Yes, I am
In love
Excessively
Wastefully and Willingly

Does routine ever stop?
Does monotony ever end?
Will it always be a cycle?
Waiting for each weekend?
Will I ever get up,
And not wait to go back to bed?
What does it mean to have purpose?
And not wish to be dead.
What’s the ultimate goal?
Why should I keep persevering?
What’s waiting at the end?
What is the meaning?
What story do I believe?
Why can’t I be like everyone?
And not doubt what I was taught?
Maybe then I wouldn’t feel this done.
So in the end I’m the villain.
The one to blame for my hurt.
If I would stop beings so twisted,
Would stop feeling like dirt.
Why can’t I be grateful?
Just be happy,
And not **** in my head.
JUST STOP FEELING ******.

The life of a mortal is one of contradiction. Contradiction of mind and body.
Contradiction of choice and fate.
When we stare into divine eyes,
It all seems to align.
When she breaks your gaze.
Well.
Ain't that a *****.
Wooden spoon for you. dear sir.
Ask questions. Get answers.
Make better decisions.
Ffs.

Every day, the fatigue that plagues my body gets closer to my brain. And, I can't help but wonder. When it gets there, will everything I've worked for be in vain? No! I can't think like that. Not when I'm so close to my dreams. But how can you fight exhaustion when everything exhausts you?

How strange it feels, to just be human,
To dream and think in endless loops.
How odd it is, to move a body,
This flesh and bone, in shifting groups.

How weird it is, that I am me,
Out of eight billion different lives.
I wish I could find answers to,
the questions, keeping me up all night.

How wonderful that my mind is free,
Can think about endless mysteries,
But soon the mind begins to drown,
Aching in its own boundaries.