Here’s my perspective;

Thoughts, in general, are like the light from the stars that always shine the same brightness throughout the day.

They are always there

Existing, even when you can’t see them.
At least that’s how it is for normal people, you get the grace of day to nullify the shining of the light from the stars at times when it can be overbearing.

You get a break

If I could describe what it’s like to have ADHD, picture your mind never turning off.
It is always bright for me, and there is no dawn or day to alleviate my eyes from the galaxy of lights I permanently see.

*It's a beautiful disaster

Scroll, scroll
Click, click
Tapping my life
Away, and it’s sick

My mind never turns off
Like light from the stars after dawn
My conscious switch has been stomped
By the force of biology
And I can’t get a grip
My thoughts continue to romp
Out loud, and I scream them
Cause they scream at me too
I have no control of it
There’s nothing I can do

Conscious and subconscious?
I don’t believe in separation of the two
I think a mile a minute
My mind is a rendezvous
For both of their needs
They help fuel me,
And segregate only when I refuse to be free

I must say,
It makes everything more fun
The sky seems so vast
And every single blade of grass
Is just as interesting as the one next to it
Every rain drop of dew
Shines with a light
On lawn where it grew,
From the sun that shuns
It’s growth, when it hides beyond the clouds
I breathe it in when it decides to come out
It’s life


I just want to sing the thoughts I have
Because I don’t know
How to say them all, without forgetting
In the next few minutes,
When my mind is burned with then need
To explore even more

Into
a body
 of water
  we fall
                                                            ­                                      Much
                                                            ­                                   b i g g e r
                                                                ­                               than our
                                                             ­                                      own
                                        We
                                      fall in
                                   all shapes
                                    and sizes                        And
                                ­       carry                         with us
      The                                                     ­   ideas that are
    fused                                                    ­    together and
  make up                                                        what we
   are on a                                                           grand­
    scheme                          Of                          ­  
                                        things,
              ­                      we splatter
                                     and splash
                                      spreading
                                          what                                                  We
                                                              ­                                     carry
                                                           ­                                    to become
                   One                                    ­                                    within
              the bigger                                                           ­          body
          that we make                             Up
               what we                               were a
                  part                               of all along,
                                                          ­  we are
                                                             dro­ps
                              We
                           fall for                                                            An­
                        eternity it                                                        feels
 ­                      until finally                                                  we're at
                         the place                                                  we call home
                                                            ­                              in our ocean
                                                           ­                                   at peace
__________________­
             To become one within what we've been a part of all along

To be thankful is to be grateful
For another day on this earth
But let it not be secluded
To only a single day every year

Every day you have on this earth is one to be thankful for.

It is in my blood
I can feel its presence
When it’s on the verge
To emit a surge, every time my heart beats

An impulse,
Scurrying it’s way through the crevasses of my brain.
Tainting the walls of grey matter with a tendency for unpredictability,
Out of my reach.

I hate it
I don’t want it
I never asked for this

I can’t slow my mind down
Thoughts so fast, hit me with whiplash
It’s insanity.

No.

I’m not insane
I can’t be
I’m rationale

I think about how I think about things,
Like it’s a cycle that never stops..

Which I guess could be my downfall
My vision says it all
When thoughts travel my mind
In dark tunnels at times
My eyes blind to the surroundings

Tunnel vision that make you claustrophobic;
You feel trapped
When all you see at the end of the tunnel,
Is the darkness of insanity

But..
I’m rationale

I acknowledge I have a tendency to be blind to my surroundings,
How can I be blind if I can clearly see?
Is life objective or subjective?
I just want to understand--

You're stupid —
What was that?
Felt like a surge, on the attack
An impulse

That voice
That’s it.

Unpredictability

That lies,
In my brain waiting to be brought to the surface
With the surge of an impulse.
It’s the insanity that taints me,
From seeing what really is

I’m not stupid, I’m a learner.

Granted with the gift of analysis,
But darkened by the cruel nature of impulse
To taint my minds innocence

I'm not scared to think about it anymore

I am insane, because it’s what you make of it.
Insanity grants me with the gift of perspective,
Throwing a million different ones my way
Ones that are positive and ones that are new
Traveling at hundreds of miles
And this even includes

All the negative perspectives as well

At the times when I don’t want to hear them.

Insanity must be embraced and never repressed.
Repression tells you no don’t do that, it’s wrong.
When insanity isn’t embraced, it is feared.
When something that’s inevitable is feared
You’re no longer insane,

**You’ve completely lost it.

What is the word acknowledgement, to someone
Who never does anything about what they acknowledge?
What good is acknowledging a problem,
If you choose not to act upon it?

It's almost as if acknowledgement helps us believe
We are better people if we are aware of the bad within or around us
As if acknowledgement taints our minds
With a false sense of enlightenment
That being aware, is better than being there
To actually change what it is we acknowledge to be wrong

But if people only talked about their words, with no actions
We would only need to acknowledge, never having to change our ways
For acknowledgement can sometimes be, the golden word we need
That justifies an ignorance to our false sense of bliss

What lies beyond tomorrow, are the things we missed today.

Growing up at a young age with ADHD can be a lot of fun. Everything just becomes that much more interesting. The sky seems so vast and every single blade of grass looks just as interesting as the one right next to it. My mind raced with questions every single second. I felt the only way to express it at times was relentlessly running around, as if every step I took gave me a satisfactory answer to each question I thought about; which was ultimately a lot of steps. It would be enough to drive most people into a state of madness. Not me though, I swore to the heavens I’d have every question answered. Because believe me, the seconds would feel like hours for every moment I didn’t know just how much wood a woodchuck could chuck.

Here’s my perspective; Thoughts in general are like the light from the stars that always shine the same brightness throughout the day. They are always there. Existing, even when you can’t see them. At least that’s how it is for normal people, you get the grace of day to nullify the shining of the light from those stars at times when it can be overbearing. You get a break. If I could describe what it’s like to have ADHD, picture your mind never turning off. It is always bright for me, and there is no dawn or day to alleviate my eyes from the galaxy of lights I see. It’s a beautiful disaster. You’re always thinking out loud to yourself about everything around you. When thinking about the concept of having a conscious and subconscious, you don’t even believe in the separation of the two. You think so much because of the energy flowing through your nerves, that there could be no way another part of your brain retains knowledge you don’t already consciously know. There’s so many questions every single second, that there needs to be some sort of way to express it. Mine would come through continuos questions and obviously, a lot of running around.

I guess I didn’t understand much about people back then, though. I was too busy exploring my mind and all the ideas that sprouted within it every second. I never thought it could be a bad thing. My father seemed to think differently at times.

The worst part about having an overactive thought process, is not being able to express it. Those thoughts have to go somewhere; and if they don’t, they build up  in a *** on a back burner until the lid finally blows off and explodes as some type of extreme emotion, from anger to sadness.  

As a kid, I have too many memories of confrontations with my father when I said something he didn’t agree with. Almost as if he thought I was overstepping my bounds as a male in his house by only talking about what was on my mind. If he didn’t like what I said, or if he didn’t agree with it, “I was an idiot.” It didn’t stop there either.

Conversations about things I’ve learned had to be defended with the words, “But dad, my teacher just taught us this today in class!”

“Well then, your teachers an idiot.” he would respond. It seemed like he knew the answer to everything. Even after I went to school and got an education that his tax dollars were paying for, it wasn’t enough to get him to agree quickly with things I said. It seemed everybody was an idiot, and as a kid, I almost thought it was normal to be one at a point. Everybody seemed to be doing it.

But even the innocence of a kid knows when something feels wrong. It didn’t take much of looking at his gritting teeth and clenched jaw to know either. I would watch the muscles in his cheeks and forehead pulsate with blood every time he squeezed his fist in stubbornness; as if his fists were his heart in that moment

I guess what hurt the most about the confrontations, was the awareness that he was not always this kind of man. I’ve seen him in different lights before. Brighter lights, where his happiness rained in a room and brought joy to everyone. Times where you’d never think the same man was consumed by a darkness that made him blind to reason. The pain came with knowing I was fighting to express myself to the same man that would make me laugh till my ribs felt weak. The person who I loved seeing happy, that much more because I saw how the shadows of the clouds he carried with him, darkened his spirit.

His alcoholism and addictions didn’t help aid his perspectives for the better either. Bottle after bottle I would watch get consumed, all the while his fuse grew shorter in those moments as his BAC grew higher. Cigarettes on the daily, pills and ***. Anything to escape the pain he harbored like a shipyard.

I started keeping my thoughts to myself more. At that age, I was innocent enough to believe I was wrong for having an opinion, or speaking my mind. I thought it was wrong to think the way I thought, so I maliciously put those thoughts on a back burner; And that’s when it started.

The silence, or I guess people would say, “the introvert,” found its way into my life. It’s such a tragedy of irony. The person who always thought a mile a minute, and still does, now barely says a word. Keeping himself locked away in his brain because there’s no key that could unlock him from the darkness of judgement. I was told I was an idiot and that I was wrong so many times that I never wanted to be those things again. If I never spoke, I never had to worry about hearing it.

For years I stayed quiet about the things that went on inside my brain, and it literally killed me. I felt like I was being robbed of my imagination, or rather I was robbing other people in this world of my imagination. Simple and plain, my thoughts weren’t being put out there. They continued to boil on my back burner, occasionally exploding every now and then into anger and depression. All of those amazing thoughts I used to have, now felt like fire burning through my veins for every pulse that kept them there to never be released.

I resented my dad, and won’t forget the day I told myself I wouldn't become him. I never would of imagined that that would be the day I put an invisible blind-fold on. Because I had swore to myself I would never act like my dad, my foggy eyes would never catch the times that I did. There was just no way I would or could be like him because he character caused me too much pain.

Conversations with other people started becoming more debate-like, I was always quick to defend my point because I didn’t want to be wrong. I talked more than I listened. If you didn’t know what I was saying, you just didn’t understand where I was coming from. I kept and thought to myself all the time. So much, that when I finally did release what was on my mind, it had to be right because I spent enough time to myself analyzing it. Other people just couldn’t understand that. They couldn’t.

Remember that boiling *** on the back burner; that occasionally explodes? Well, now it was now on the verge of imploding. I was so fixated on never being wrong, it was almost like I was never wrong. Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? Yeah it did to me too. When I noticed it, that’s when I imploded.

I couldn't believe I became exactly what I told myself I would never become. All of those past thoughts and hatred imploded in my brain and trickled down the inside of my body, burning me. I burned, but not with anger, I burned with depression and more silence. It was a vicious cycle. Speaking, especially to other people, almost became taboo to me. It seemed weird and out of place because it involved more emotions. I was kind of tired of feeling at that point. I had already felt enough through all of the episodes I would have from my explosions. Not to mention, I couldn’t live with myself knowing that I was my dad spitting image when I talked to other people. Depression can really be a vicious cycle, and I remember how much it would recycle itself in my life.

I would spend hours in school, with a million thoughts to say, but never spoke out. I hated myself for it, which would get me depressed. Which would then get me depressed for knowing I was depressed; making me depressed because I was depressed I was depressed. There seemed to be no escape.

I started abusing substance, from alcohol to ****. My abuse, came from the justification that I told myself I was doing it to understand perspective. I wanted to explore the same world of addiction that my dad did. I wanted to come to understand what it’s like to live in a world of dependency and escape. Boy did that backfire on me. I went into it thinking I could just jump right back out of it; that’s not what happened. I was quickly consumed with darkness, escape and depression. Anxiety got the best of me now, because I felt trapped in this world of rumination and hopelessness.

What was depression for me? Its was being stuck in a dark room, separated from the light of happiness by a cruel lock door. A locked door that had a small viewing glass for you to see what lies on the other side of it, within your reach. It was having what seemed like an entire ring of keys to open the door with, yet they’re all the same key. Depression was refusing to stand up, to take advantage of the little bit of light that shined through the viewing glass for me. The little bit of light that would of shown me I was recycling the same key, over and over again. All because I tried to use the dark to see.

I felt that my voice was unheard and I finally got to the point where I didn’t want to live anymore. I used to wish and pray that I’d contract a horrible disease or illness cause I thought it’d be the only way for people to truly hear the words I had to say. It’s a shame that I would even think this. But what even more shameful than that, is how much more words really are cherished after someone has died, or is dying. I had a one track mind for sacrifice, and was hell bent making it happen. I smoked **** by myself; occasionally drank in my lonesome; compulsively ate more than I should; anchored myself to be a sloth in my bed, slaved away to TV and constantly stressed myself over the little things I did. Anything that would speed up the process of my downfall, I did.

I still felt empty though, my collapse wasn’t happening as instantaneous as I hoped, which gave my relentless mind more time to think about it. I did want to live, I didn’t want to have to be this sacrifice to get my point across. “It’s such a cop out," my mind would occasionally blurt out to get my attention. “So what if I’m like my dad? Shouldn’t that be more of a reason to be able to empathize with him when he gets the way he does?"

It wasn’t until the day I got the brilliant idea that maybe I should speak what’s on my mind, that I saw how powerful I could feel. I’ll tell you something though, fighting through the agita you get in the back of your throat is hard. It literally stops you from talking. You know what you want to say, and exactly how you want to express it, but you overthink it and think you’re going to mess up expressing something you know is simple. That agita is the fear in the back of your throat that reminds you of why you feel that way. I didn’t want to result to the back burner again though, so I fought through the pain no matter how bad my chest hurt.

Eventually, I stopped resenting my father. I took it upon myself to sit down and throughly write him a letter, expressing the way I felt about our relationship. About how all I wanted was to see him happy, I was very blunt about how I felt. This is a part of that letter:

"When I think about how long it took me to write this, it’s pretty sad really. And it’s not even because my writing skills we’re slacking, the sad part is what I thought I had to do in order to write this to you. Every day that I would try and write this, I would put alcohol and drugs into my body because I thought it would aid me in my creative writing. But instead, pretty much the opposite happened. I sat staring at a computer screen ruminating about my own troubling thoughts and personal anger. So I sat even longer staring at that screen thinking I needed more substance in my body to awaken the thoughts that I so longed to express. I used and abused until I just got too tired of trying to write and passed out. My point is, I made excuses to take in substances for my own personal benefit because the whole time I was really trying to run away from the problem instead of facing it. When I really sit back and analyze myself as well as you, I see a huge correlation between us. And to be honest, I think it’s a big contributing factor to my depression. Not because me and you are similar, but because we’re similar and you think you’re so different. Do you want in on something I’ve never directly told you? Growing up, I’ve always had persistent urge to make you a happier person. Ever since I noticed how depressed and upset you were, I told myself I would stop at nothing until you saw the good that life has to offer. I didn’t realize how high I set my expectations until they were ripped out from under my feet. My interventions got me nowhere but further into a rut with you, not to mention they were labeled as girlish emotions to have. It’s funny how fast you can go from being helpful to being angry, which is exactly what happened to me. I became so obsessed with trying to make you a happier person that I started becoming angrier that nothing was working. My anger turned into depression and I started smoking **** significantly more to run away from the fact that it seemed like there was nothing I could do to help you out. I started seeing all the negative aspects of life and didn’t want to go out and have fun anymore, so I started compulsively eating and religiously watching TV. Not to mention, I would spend an abnormal amount of time on my computer. I went to the doctor 2 weeks ago, and since the last time I went there which was less than a year ago, I put on 20 pounds. I feel like ****, but I lie to everyone because I don’t want them to see how much I’m suffering on the inside. You know, there was a point a few months ago where I didn’t care if I died or got extremely sick, I actually hoped for it. I looked at my life as a sacrifice for the well being of other people, as well as for my own benefit. If I had gotten really sick or diagnosed with a horrible disease, I knew people would pay more attention to me. I knew that people would listen to my opinion more because it was more “influential” on them because of the fact I was probably going to die. I kind of counted on pity to be an influencing factor on me being influential to others, which is kind of like giving up. It’s kind of strange that you hear that coming from me, huh?"

I took the burden of my father off my shoulders, and I must say we get along a lot better today. He never thought I'd be able to relate to him in the ways that I did in the letter I wrote, and he broke down in tears to me. I never chose to give up on the thoughts that went on in my mind. I still struggle with expressing how I feel at times, but it’s not stopping me from trying to fight past it. I know I can relate to him if I allow him into my life instead of shutting him out indefinitely.

I have this belief that traumatic experiences can be the gateway to self-change. Trauma happens to us all, and it can be the very foundation of a person’s character. It can be what shapes your fears, develops strengths or weaknesses to certain situations and can overall can be a burden-like thought that you carry with for the rest of your life. Trauma’s have their ranges of impact and can even go as far as sending a person over the edge to end their own life. One that has stuck with me my whole life, which most people wouldn’t guess to be, was disguised in silence. People that go through traumatic experiences don’t always have crazy superficial cuts and bruises, a lot of the scars of their traumas remain on the inside, hidden away from plain view.

Three years ago, standing in the garden of life, a butterfly landed perfectly in my hands. It flew from above and behind me, gracefully hovering itself down as if it were landing on a surface that might be unstable for its fragile little legs.

Slowly descending closer to my hands, I felt its feet graze the surface of my skin like it was testing out the waters of my spirit.

Fluttering over my hands, it kept its wings at metronome-like tempo, and my heart began to follow the same rhythm. It was almost like seeing a butterfly for the first time in my life.

Although I knew there were other ones out there, I admired everything about this butterfly like it was the only one in the world that mattered.

I couldn’t speak butterfly at the time, but I immediately relaxed my hands to show I was not something to fear. She trusted me and settled herself right in the middle of my openly cupped palms.

She was beautiful, from the scars on her wings to the subtle shades of brown that streaked down the tattered edges of them. All the markings on her were like a canvas, showing me the stories that now explained why she was uneasy about landing on me so quick.

I wanted nothing more than to take away the pain that she suffered and nurse her back to the amazing colors I saw beyond the scars of her wings. It might of been the way she looked at me with those eyes, or maybe it was the way I felt when she walked on my skin as if she were inside of it. I definitely knew one thing though, I would do anything for her.

I planted the best roses and lilies in my garden, always giving her a reason to come back. She craved to breathe in the aura of my being like it was purer than the pollen of a red rose.

Anytime she landed on me now, there was never hesitation. She pollinated me with all the ideas she took from the flowers she’s journeyed on throughout life. We mutually connected, almost as if she had been living in my garden all my life.

Her addiction to me had attracted my attention like no other, and I fell in love with the way we grew. I felt my cupped hands close a little more while I held her now.

Her scars started to fade with time, and just like I thought, the colors that existed beneath them were captivating. She flew around my garden and spread the wings, that had once been torn, with the confidence of a bird that committed itself to soar the skies beyond. I was happy to know that I had helped push this butterfly back into the world, but I also felt my cupped hands close a little more while I held her now.

Every time she was gone and growing, I waited so eagerly for her return to see the new stories her wings told. They grew even stronger then from how I had once seen them before, and flourished with vibrant colors. It was amazing; I was completely infatuated with watching her grow. I felt my hands close a little tighter while I held her now.

She was mine. I had never felt so good about myself before and maybe I began to take her for granted. I stopped planting flowers in my garden and neglected to water the ones that always brought her back. My garden dried up, and the sight of it didn’t even make me flinch. I was too enveloped in watching a pretty sight like her fly around.

There were no more plants growing anymore, no more new seeds planted or new flowers to explore. It was all dead. Al I cared about was her story, her presence and her legacy. She was all I had.

There was little for her to delight in anymore, but I guess I didn’t notice.  Her wings fluttered sadly, and I felt my hands close a little more while I held her, now completely cutting her off from spreading her wings.

She didn’t feel free any more. Instead of nurturing the garden we used to love exploring together, I made my hands a prison to keep her from flying away from me. The thought that she would prefer another hand or another garden ate at me. I wanted her all to myself. By the time I realized I was wrong, she had flown away for good.

I have been working on my garden ever since. If she ever returns, she’ll be pleased to see it’s the best it’s ever been.

My eyelids are curtains
That cast a silhouette of my soul,
You're blind to what's behind them,
While they remain closed
They wait to open;

And the light will soon shine
Front and center stage,
An audience of people
To watch my life play;

It is a show, every single day

Aha!

That's it!

This answer may stick!!

And it's!!*

....uhmm..

Help!*

I'm in here*

Tangled beneath untamable vines of conformity

There is this voice that is within me
That wants to scream out preemptively
To prevent my fears from blindly justifying reason

A propensity in our nature
Or is it just nurtured,
Could it be that I’ve created these fears myself?

For why else would it be,
That this voice inside me,
Would scream out for these thoughts to stop?

Life,  needed be lived with legacy
For what they may see
Could be dust in the wind

Swept away, with a sheepish grin
Losing identity, too busy fitting in
Self-absorbed in an introverted mind

w a i t i n g, until the day you speak
Releasing thoughts, no tongue and cheek
That'll release you from your ruminating pain

There can be sun, even through the rain
You can make it out,  but one thing remain
There will always be more storms ahead

So get up, when the wind knocks you down
Don't ever settle, since they're always around
Storms will pass, but your life cant afford to

There will be those that do not hear,
Stay quiet, think strong, because they fear
The passion that reins from deep inside your heart

Speak strongly, and feel your inner words
Let them erupt through you, and push yourself forwards
And if you choke, just please remember

A legacy is remembered from the amount of storms you conquered.
Don't give up, pass hope on to those who hunger.
For the words of your experience, that'll build their perseverance

To mount a sail on their boat, so they may bend the winds that carry their legacies.

It screams in my head
Shaking the walls with an echo
Resonating like a wind chime in a tornado
But little do they know
-- I’ve been deaf for a while now

My ears have long been hearing the murmurs of motive
So much continuous throwing of ideas
Has just become white noise to me, like a rain storm soundtrack
It just becomes back drop music, if there's no action to do it

So the real question for you is:

**Do you lack motivation or initiation?

Life. Such a small word, yet remains vague and unanswerable to many people. A word which concurrently breeds curiosity and fear inside a simple mind that continuously runs wild with questions. A word who’s meaning can only be defined as a never ending cliffhanger, leaving you with the gut aching suspense of a never resolved story. Controlling our lives like a marionette puppet with the strings being attached to the four characters L, I, F, and E. But alas, we are all blinded by the light paved into the road we created ourselves. A cracked road filled with the seeds of our generation, aided in growth from our blinded light with ambitions of reaching the sun. We give our seeds a warm reality, which sparks the blossom it’s wanted to expose to the world, the reason it was given a chance as a seed to begin with. Some people look at what that flower has to brought into their lives and cherish it, while others hide around a dark corner with harsh opinions and rationalizations. Around that corner a cold reality is approaching, causing a cherished life to be cut short. That life though, it never dies. For before it shriveled up, it did something amazing. After that flower blossomed, a gust of determination carried the seeds of it’s knowledge throughout the world to be seen as inspiration. Inspiration, and to once again ambitiously sprout from the crack in the road we’ve so blindly created.

It's being stuck in a dark room
Separated from the light of happiness, by a cruel locked door
That has a small viewing glass for you to see
What lies on the other side,
Within your reach

It's having what seems like an entire ring of keys
To open the door, yet they're all the same key

It's refusing to stand up,
To take advantage of the little bit of light
That shines through the viewing glass for you

The little bit of light that'll show you
You keep recycling the same key
Over and over again

Because you use the dark to see

Saying I love you, such a verbally pretentious myth
Three words that always please the one you’re with
Known as a phrase of truth, or just a fall back
Since finding someone real, is like a needle in a haystack

So how do you know, if someone is being true?
It's easy, just watch the things they do
For actions always speak louder than words
And helps you determine a person’s standards

When you hit an all time low, and need advice
Do they reach a hand out, or try to entice?
Offering you true feedback, and not just pity
To build your character from low, to gritty

Are they by your side, through the decisions you make?
Or do they give off vibes, as if they would forsake
Do they give you support, to help your character develop?
Through the best and the worst, even when you’ve grownup?

Do you feel you need to dress up every time you see them?
As if you didn’t, you would receive nothing but condemn?
Or do they see through looks, as if it’s a thing of the past
Making a low self-esteem, become nothing but an outcast?

Love is something expressed by more than words
It's peoples actions that reveal the honest and cowards
Any body with a brain can repeat a phrase they’ve heard
Until you understand the true meaning, this phrase should sound absurd

This goes out to all that choose,
To suffer in silence
As if it can’t be subdued

The people that think,
Not even a shrink
Could understand their feelings
Even if written in ink

This goes out, to all the brave souls,
That navigate their ship
Alone to their goals

The kind that believe
That their inner beliefs
Only upset others
Making silence, your grief

It’s time to wake up!
Speak your words,
Listen up

The time has come now,
To stop this hiccup

People will judge what we do, and we may not like it
But if you never speak out,
You’ll get trapped in your psychs grip

Lonely and cold
Walking a winding dark road
Without human emotion
From others to be bestowed

Upon you, cause it’s true
Everything that we do
Has it’s place in this world
Through venom and virtue

We may no be perfect
But there’s nothing that is
Even the universe was created
Through the concept of this

Imperfection introspections
Helps us learn our life lessons
So speak up and speak out
Before your inner-self lessens

Contrary to some belief
The Earth is not flat
Although, I wish it was like that

Cause then I could fall off
To escape all the sound
But the Earth is round

So now, gravity has me
Stuck in a cell with see-through walls
And all that I tried escaping, is still here

I can hear
I can see
I can feel
I can smell
I can touch

Have I no luck?
My act of escape
Has only gotten me stuck

Living the same life
I tried running from
But, that's not the problem

If I fell off the Earth
Yet it still stays the same
Maybe I'm the one who needs to change?

Running, he's at the point of no return
He slipped through the barrier
The atmosphere tried to hold him back
Lacking gravity, his feet float aimlessly for a ground
Slowly plunging into the darkness of void, rope in hand
Proves to be useless when there is only nothingness around
He put himself too far out of reach from another souls now

He felt weightlessness
Nothingness

A rocketman, shooting for the moon
In a mood that lacked momentum
Now floating, stuck in the darkness of space
Realizing it was all a mistake
To take a chance on reaching all the way for the moon
When everything he ever needed
Was in front of him on Earth all along

The sun shines brighter
The hell's all this yellow ****?
Tree **** everywhere

When silence is strong,
That side of me comes out
The one that creeps in the shadows
When optimism's in drought

My body will shake
And slowly vibrate
Sending chills up my back
Like an arctic earthquake

Which starts up the agita
In the back of my throat
That silences the thoughts
I want to promote

This feeling is wrong
And I'm well aware of that
But every time I try to stop
My mind just back tracks

Reminding me, of why I should be
Feeling this way
For all eternity

It's like my minds programmed
To follow a track
That leads me to pessimism
And I can't look back

Everything is black
From the sun to the moon
Positivity exists
But i'm overrun by the gloom

If I could speak love, my words would skip beats

Face are ambiguous
It's not too hard explaining this
But there is no real face that fits an objective depression

Let it be a lesson
Not to judge others by their discretions
Silence can be the embodiment for the saddest people of them all

People big and people small
That minds that stand and the ones that fall
We can all relate to the pains of the others around us

Yet remain so soundless
Never finding commons grounds and,
Becoming trapped in a cycle of solitude
How could we be so rude?
When there are millions of others who suffer the same sorrows as our own

Maybe not full blown
But at least enough to be known
That there is someone out there who relates to our pain

Cause it's a stain in our brains
That makes us think we're insane
We must open up to others
And not lead lives that are mundane

Everyone carries with them, a face of depression
So let it be a lesson
That there's no objective face to depression

1st - Teach them how to quiet their brain so they can listen easier. Do some  mental exercises that will help build that “muscle”to be able to detach from the loud chatter in their brain at times.

2nd - Be extremely rationale, don’t be so quick to pull someone out of their comfort zone when it comes to constructive criticisms about their problems. Talk about their lives step by step and always be understanding to the diversity of problems.

3rd - Surround that person with the associated things they choose to want to chase that will make them happy. Go out of your way to help surround them with these things. Constant exposure to the same things everyday will only help fuel old habits that they're used to doing.

4th -Condition them within these habits to live by everyday, and this is what you'll tell them.

"It will take handwork, perseverance and a lot of will power to get yourself to make this metamorphosis. But just remember one thing, when you make it out of this loop of distress you find yourself in, you’ll be what you’ve always wanted to be. So push yourself and never give up. Fight for you. No matter how hard it gets for you to change your habits, just remember you’re fighting for who you want to be. You have something to fight for. You’re doing what you’re doing for the sacrifice of molding yourself into the person you dream about. Be that person everyday and fight through the fire and the flames of strife. Never back down and fight from ever faltering into depression. Be the change you wish to see in this world, and you sha'll see it."

I wish you understood
What goes through my mind
When I think about you,
Being away all the time

I hate that you're at school
And away from my clutch
I just want to hold you
In my arms like a crutch

Because you are my support
Every time I fall down
Now I have to get up
With no one around

No crutch or no cane
To help keep me sane
When I ramble the thoughts
That bring pain to my brain

It's so ******* hard
To sleep late at night
My arms, they look for you
But you're nowhere in sight

So I reach out to,
The closest thing I can do
Pick up my phone
And say "I really miss you."

They say a  l o s t  soul should navigate with the stars

Well I bet they would, if they wondered what they are

Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky

Little, clump of stardust, you

The milky way has saw you through

Traveled distances real far

Shooting from exploding stars

Teeny, tiny, star spec, you

Came from old life to start a new

Elements across the sky

That gave birth to the gift of life

Little, spec of stardust you

You are so small, but look how you grew

For every 5 letters I type,
I backspace 6 times
It's not good enough,

*But, it's what was on your mind

I ask you to take me by the hand,
But you grab me by the soul
I never wanna let go
It's an out of the body experience
I’m dreaming, lucidly
And all I see,
Is how your eyes lock with mine,
Caught in such a divine, stare

And your hair?
I need no prayers
It has me believing,
When the light shines,
A halo atop your crown
Reflecting subtle shades of brown
And streaks of auburn, that burn
A feisty red color into your character,
That you are an angel,
When their strands hit the light,
At just the right angle

Forgive all my babble,
But I really love when the wind comes
And sweeps your hair to light of the sun,
It makes me become undone
Because pearlescent colors reveal themselves,
Within each and every strand
Like nature had planned,
This extravagant ban, for all genes obscene,
To be ousted and cleaned
From your code, like you know
The path you need to go,
To bring your heart closer,
To be one with my own

Forgive me, on shorthand
I made a list, unplanned,
To say why I like being your true biggest fan
I love for all the things that you stand,
And how you interlock with my hands,
Do you even understand?
When i’m feeling depressed,
Your love always expands,
My thoughts sink into you,
Like toes in the sand
I’m sailing a ship,
That isn’t one manned
And there is no other land
That has love that’s this grand,
The feelings so perfect
Everything else is so bland,
No matter how much you scanned
Beyond subconscious demands
You still make my heart go
bam, bam, bam
Like the drum of a band
I must give you a hand
Cause *******,
You are just so beautiful

Right down to that smile,
That’ll make me stay for a while
It is a drug that I need
And i’ll admit, I have greed
But I just can’t help
With the way that you wear it,
I always stare at it
Because it’s like no other souls,
You’ve been broken and cold
And know what it means to be happy
So the smiles not ******
It’s genuine and from the heart,
I wish to never be apart, from the gleam
That shines from those teeth
Because it’s the epitome of happiness

You have me wrapped in this, envelope
Sealed with a kiss from the lips
That are soft like your hips
They make me weak to the touch, I feel you
And your ever changing vibrations
I could never grow jaded
Or permanently faded
You’re an everlasting adventure
That I dare to go venture,
On and beyond,
Just the tip of the ice burg
I don’t know if you’ve heard,
But I like the flip side, of your mind
That can be dark at times
It keeps me from ever becoming so blind
To your light, and the fight
That comes to you at night,
When demons come play with thoughts that cause fright,
It reminds me, not to be
Condescending to views
Like I’m the only one who’s dark,
But now I know you

And yes it is true,
Your kiss tends to pursue
The dark inside me, and make it turn it a new
Leaf, When I speak
My mind clears and it peaks,
Your touch pushes my limits,
Making bad thoughts extinguish
If that doesn’t work,
I’m berserk, and won’t crack
You send chills up my back,
With oxytocin on the attack,
A neurotransmitter queen,
You make me a dopamine fiend,
For the love that you beam,
It sings and it screams

Like a light, down corridors of my heart
At the times they are dark
You make me restart
With a spark, and I feel
As it circulates through me
The feeling is bliss
Without it, I grow envy
Of others who have it,
I couldn’t begin to imagine
What it’d be like if I never established,
This feeling, I get
When I stare deep into your eyes
It’s like a world without lies,
Where people don’t have any knives,
To stab you in the heart or behind in the back,
Payback, doesn’t attack, me
When I’m together with you
The things that we do, bring those thoughts to subdue

Like laying with you, looking up to the sky
Through day and through night,
The view’s always alright,
If you’re right there, with your beautiful hair
Staring out with me, without even a care
In the world, they’ve been hurled,
The cares that we have,
We put them behind us,
Because the past is the past
The future is now
And we are the gifts that are within it
Two people alive,
Positivity emits,
A feeling that is like no ordinary other,
I think i’ve discovered
What it means to uncover,

My other half.

I'm a creature of habit, who lives to inhabit
His world around him, so I can live lavish
Forget my mistakes, they give me headaches
So I point my blame finger, whatever it takes

They won't get me, to admit bluntly
That I have made faults, lock them away in a vault

They just can't know, what i've been through though
What if they're like me, and judge insistently?
They won't understand, how it is in my land
I'm a creature of habit, looking for the right gadget

To show me the ways, of getting away
From the people that know, what it's like to grow

I'm a creature of habit, who sings a sad ballot
Of a lonely life, where strife comes at night.

.

            In order to survive, we cling to all we know and understand.

                                              We label it reality

                      But knowledge and understanding are ambiguous

                                   That reality could really just be an

                                                             I
                                                               L
                                                            L
 ­                                                       U
        ­                                                     S
                                                               ­  I
                                                             O
                                                        N
     ­                                                                 ­                
                              All humans live with wrong assumptions

                                     For the sake of their own survival

Written to my girlfriend, after a single rose I had given her managed to stay alive and flower long after it was supposed to die*

Our lives differ no less than from a flower
What keeps us apart is it’s destined power
A power that starts its life as a seed
Seeking the light and the love it will need
Ambitiously growing with hopes to one-day find
A reason for living, leaving inevitability behind
For a flower is subjected to a cycle of life
Experiencing the inevitables of love, death and strife.
Some flowers have a will power of their own
To stall their cycle, having death remain unknown
For when that flowers see’s something that it likes
It will hold out for longer, no matter what strikes
Like being brought into love, a flower holds out longer
To see the relationship grow, and get even stronger
Watching two people connect, with no strings attached
Seeing true love unfold, remaining unscratched
Satisfied it holds out, even through the death of it’s flower
Pushing itself to stay alive, even if for an hour
For it has hope for someone, so it must reply
By showing us beauty in something, will never die
Using it’s last bit of strength, to be optimistic
It starts to grow again, as if it were mystic
Leaving two lovers to be astounded by this miracle
They put aside their differences, until they are wrinkled
These flowers of course are brought to us by fate
To show us beauty in our love, before it’s too late

We are all addicts;
Does it mean it’s a bad thing?
An addict does something again,
And again

That means i’m an addict, when I learn to ride a bike.
I try over and over again,
I can't quit it,
The addiction to not give up,
To want to know the feeling of accomplishment,
You feel it, and it’s the first high you get from it,
Holding on to it, you never want to let go
So you chase the high, and become a functioning addict

Is a bad thing, if i’m addicted to saving people’s lives?
If I’m addicted to research, on making human kind strive
Will I be ridiculed for it?
I hope not, but I can relate
To what an addiction can feel like;

I am a bookworm;
These books are all I have,
I can't stop spending,
All my money on them,
And my vision has become blurry
Hours upon end,
Eyes fixate within
Each and every page
My mind reads things for days
It becomes all I know,
I shut the rest out

I don't really get out;
This reminds me I'm alive
Invoking sensations that cause a vibe,
And electrically stimulate my mind,
I'm encapsulated by my pride;
"This is my knowledge" I say
This experience is mine

I’m okay in this world,
A man-made peace, in my own mind
But I’ve socially cut out things;
Time after time
I’ve failed to notice the harm
Done to my body during the process,
More worried, was I, to focus on feeling
That high again,
When I read my first book
Completing it’s pages

So let me rephrase this;
We will all have addictive qualities
Sometimes in great quantities
You can be what you want to be
If you understand moderation

Addictions are characterizations,
Of our beings,
Just don’t let them destroy you

There always seems to be a small gap, never filled in

A void that aches with the pain of perpetual nothingness, it seems

As if being a good person to others isn’t enough to take it away, or fill it

Letting the stigmas of selfishness hold us back, from the realization

That we forget whom we must always love first, every day


**Ourselves

Well, hello!
Nice to meet you,
I welcome you to come see

The Land of the Words,
That's within you and me

Tell me, what is it?
What words do you seek?
Are you trying to vaguely describe all the bleak?

Well, come in!
We’ve got it,
A library of words
To use at the times where yours just never work

We’ve got, you name it
Every word that there is
Obscure, slick and slimy
Eternal and bliss

Or maybe enlightened
Audacity, please?
Do they properly describe your
Brown dungaree jeans?

No worries, don’t fret
Don't think I'm done yet
Sit back and hold on,
Those words, you'll regret

Bungalow, bushy, cabal and unclean
Tremendously, vacant
And blindly obscene

Tattered and broken
Lies and Unspoken
Do they speak to you mind,
Like they are a foretoken?

Cataclysms with dark exorcisms
Punk, goth and metal
And hooliganism?

Tell me, what is it
The library goes on
I’ll talk your ears off
From dusk until dawn

Patiently, potent
Absurdly, outspoken
Is that how you’ll describe,
A bright golden token?

Charismatic, kick, addicts
Your thoughts are a savage
Discombobulate, ravage
The words can be baggage

Keep looking, it’s there,
Every word, and I swear
They exist to make circles
Out of regular squares

Every time my heart beats for you now
It tampers with the richter scale
Of anxiety within me.

And provokes the wake of a tidal wave
To swallow it
Within a rip tide of depression
And sweep me out to an emotional ocean
Without a paddle in sight.

I'm too far out
I can only use my hands
To get back to the shore I can't see.

When my eyes open in the morning, my brain eventually catches up to do the same. It just needs a little kick; Intravenous caffeine directly into it. My engine finally turns over, and I’m a little rusty at first.Pushing through sluggish build up, I backfire like an old lawn mower. Can’t think straight, I’m still distorted. Need WD-40. Lubricate my gears, with a nice hot shower. I’m relaxed and clear, I can start my day; At least a little better now I can say.

Thought process is free spirited, roaming the halls of my mind aimlessly. No rulebook to be followed but the laws of nature; like lighting. It strikes, so fast and frightening. My thoughts. They tamper with the Richter scale of anxiety within me, and a tidal wave approaches to swallow me after the quake. I can feel its presence, when it’s on the verge; Emitting a surge every time my heart beats. Scurrying its way through the crevasses of my brain, it taints the walls of grey matter with a tendency for unpredictability. Impulse; is out of my reach.

Brace for impact, emotional roller coaster is soon to crash. If I don’t grab a hold of this lap bar, I will lose my sanity. Too late, I’m falling—I pull my rip chord. My mind opens its parachute, choosing not to ignore; all of the objective. My chord is perspective, that rips out subject, thoughts that cloud my mind.

Emotions are like oceans that brew thoughts with explosions, through your veins. They are the fuel for our senses, like caffeine for my brain. I can’t explain, but it reminds you you’re alive. It can feel like insanity, but don’t let that die. Embrace insanity, it’s the spark of madness you need. As far as I see, it's inevitable.

When the inevitable is feared, and you fight to keep it away; You will no longer be insane, but will have completely lost it.

I’m lost in a land of words
They float around in the void of my mind
My brain matter harbors them
And I constantly search to find

The ones that’ll complete the puzzle,
To translate my thoughts,
Speaking emotions without struggle

But I’m entangled in the strings of their syllables

This word can’t go here
This word doesn’t match there

Go beyond the word my mind consciously stems,
Looking to the subconscious
A vaulted up library,
That is packed full of them

At times, the words are locked away
From my conscious thoughts, for no reason
And I feel like it’s treason

I always seem to hold the answer, underneath it all eventually

And like the puzzle,
The lock to my vault isn’t solved so easily
It takes a key *******, to sit back
And attack like a hacker

To complete the word formula
And fill in the blanks
Putting thoughts onto paper,
Before the impulse has sank

Eureka, I’ve found it!
The word was in my head
Like it existed forever,
Never able to be dead

I know I can do it
I can learn how to speak,
The language from within,
*So my soul can be leaked

Today's your day

Breathe in that air

**Invoke a sensation

A blank canvas is a universe; waiting with excitement

For the click of a pen to start it's big bang

Breaking news!
Breaking news!
They say life is what you make it

"You there!"
By the news stand,
Stop reading that fake ****

Opinions on papers
Contradicting the facts
Sending minds into spasms
And hypocritical attacks

Breaking news!
Breaking news!
They say life is what you make it

So get out into the world
And start creating your matrix

You can’t let the others
Tell you how it is
Life has no set teacher
But will always give you a quiz

Breaking news!
Breaking news!
They say life is what you make it

The world is full sinners
That try and achieve bliss

They’ll build up their churches
On indian grounds
So they can pray at night
For their sins to sleep sound

Breaking News!
Breaking News!
They say life is what you make it

So pick your poison and choose,
The thoughts you want remit