I want to talk to you all about death

not the idea of it
but the reality of it
When somebody dies that isn't just a statistic
a faceless body thrown to the wind

that person is just like you
it's not someone whose skin was different
who wore their hair a different way

no

that person ate food like you do
they worried about their future like you do
they turned off the channel when they couldn't find anything entertaining to watch on t.v. like you do
they rode their bike but not as often as they'd like just like you do

they worried if they weren't good enough

they questioned God's existence
they dreamed
they complained when their noses got stuffy
don't agree with death because you believe people are
different from you
revolt against it because
they are the same

Peeing in the shower
Before you even turn the water on

A lot of people jump
I've seen it
they climb up on the railing

and they jump

they fall forever
in reality it's only a few seconds

but in their heads

it must feel like forever

do you think any of them regret it?

Answer

When the water is washing over them
and the tides engulf their lungs
and the salt stains their skin
and the pressure bursts their eye ***** open inside of their head

do you think they regret it then?

We all die William.

there's no sugar coating that
no amount of my preaching will make that ok
I get that
I can live with that

But if my belief in religion
and in turn my belief in you
keeps one person away from this railing

that would jump over it otherwise

well then that makes it all


seem real to me.

from birth everyone is told
that we are special

and we are

you are your own mind
your own body your own soul

that is special
but i think this belief
that we are great can hurt us
the fear that we wont live up to our expectations

can paralyze us

can make us doubt ourselves before anyone else
thinks to do so
we talk ourselves out of things for no reason
"that's not my calling
that's not for me
I mean she is better anyway"

it's *******

the world will tell you that you are not special
don't listen

don't let it conquer you

be remarkable
smile
tell somebody you love them
pick somebody up when they're down

pick up a baby
tell them that they are special
because despite the infinitesimal odds
they made it
they're here
don't expect anything less from yourself
than you'd expect from that child

Did you **** him.

Don't answer anything else
Those four words
That's all I want know.

no apologies.

I don't want you to tell me you're sorry

yes or no
that's all I want to hear.

The answer won't make a difference
we both know that.

it's over
but I still need to know

your answer will be the bow
I use to tightly fasten up the present
I am ready to leave behind.

the color does not matter to me.

I Paint.


Not on a canvas of course
My hand shakes much too much for that
No
I paint in my head.

Masterpieces

Shimmerring towers of impunity
Castles of future conquests and quests.  
I paint everything.

I paint you

You're a lot nicer in my paintings
Maybe I'm just a good painter.

Anyway
These paintings are so realistic
So vivid.
So lifelike.

I see no reason why they should not exist

Because for one I am a great printer.
And for two I am realist.

So I set forth with my brush
Set upon bringing my art to life.

And I am always so close
The broad strokes each stringing together in a cohesive tone.

But still
If you approach it like a Monet
And examine it dutifully
You see it does not match my original masterpiece.

But how is this possible?

I am a great painter

This I know.

Shouldn't I be able to bring my simplest machinations into fruition?

I am a painter sure

If you belive that an architect is a construction worker

I am a painter

But I only build frames
Not Buildings

Depression.
You read about it.
See it on Tv.
I always thought it was a filler.
An quick way to describe a character.
"Oh He's depressed"
Everyone took a slow nod.
And then the show went on.
The character wasn't depressed.
Sad sometimes, maybe.
But that wasn't Depression.
I didn't know that.

I was blissfully unaware as a kid.
Most kids are happy obviously.
But I was something else.
I never stopped smiling.
When people asked me why.
I told them I had no reason not to.
I thought that would always be the case.
I mean why wouldn't it be.
But then time went on and I had reasons.
I kept my smile through it all.
And then one day.
One solemn day.
It just stopped.
I couldn't smile.
Maybe I had crossed some cosmic line.
Regardless I couldn't smile.

Suddenly I had too many reasons not to.
That's fine I thought.
You can be successful without a smile.
So I kept moving forward.
Into a forest that constantly grew darker.
You're still the same person I told myself.
Just because you don't smile anymore.
Doesn't mean you didn't used to.
It was weird.
Happiness only existed to me in forms of nostalgia.
I remembered the golden times.
And thought their existence validated my lack of current ones.
This was the hard part I thought.
It will go uphill one day.
Eventually.
That's how life works.

But that isn't how it works.
It isn't how anything works.
You can't sacrifice your present for your future.
Present sadness does not guarantee future happiness.
Life is a set of greased monkey bars.
Just because you've made it this far.
Does not mean you were meant to make it any further.
So soak in today.
Because it arrived although it wasn't promised.
Don't just smell the roses.
Pick them.
If only to do so before someone else does.
You don't combat Depression by thinking about your potential.
Or reminiscing over your past.
You defeat Depression by remembering.
That today.
You are You.

That's reason enough to smile.

Stop it.

Just stop it.

Stop it with your philosophy.
Your answers
your higher meanings.
Just stop it.

All you talk about is Socrates
you praise his ideology.
Place him on a pedestal of greatness
a shining example of a life lived right.

Where was that ideology
when he hung from the gallows.
What good are one's thoughts
when one's neck fails to connect with itself?

What say you?
Plato is no better.
nonono he is not
the man tasked with carrying on his mentors ideals.
This genius
this beacon of hope.
Spent over 10 pages of his book
explaining why older men should not have *** with younger boys
as if he was trying to convince himself.

Not the reader.

Just stop with it all.

I am not struggling to find myself
I am struggling to find rent money.
My problems are not in my head.
They are in my bank account.

You pine over a greater purpose
like it's some piece of salvation.
You talk of the high pleasures.
You tell me that I have more to gain from sitting and watching an opera
than from ******* a *****.
I don't want to discuss semantics
but I'll talk logistics.
I'll take the latter
not because I love ******
but because I hate the opera.

Pleasure cannot be defined or quantified
My pleasure is solely to see tomorrow.
Something I'm not too confident in right now.
Philosophy is the activity of the man with free time.
But time is not free.
It is expensive and costly.
Those with time don't understand.
Those without it understand it too well.

Love is not my end goal.
A family is not my dream.
A house on a hill would be nice.
But only because of the house.

Not the hill.

So spare me.

Please.

When you tell me about the wonders of the world.
Realize all I have seen lately are alleyways.
Don't tell me about different cuisines.
When I can only afford the dollar menu.
Don't tell me I can be anything I want
when I can't seem to be able to be anything I need.

Life is not limitless.
The soul is not infinite.
Everything has an expiration date.

I just hope mine isn't tomorrow.

She fell in love
which would have been a sight to see
had it been with
me

And now you
tell me that I've changed
but after what you did to me
why would I have stayed the same?