It begins with the ominous clouds that roil and billow over the sky.
Then they darken:
Soft whites...
Seductive greys...
All the way to the purple black that haunts the skies on the cusp of a winter night.

The smell that follows this sinister nebula of vapor hanging over your head is that of life bringing relief.
The smell of dry earth mingling with that of the fresh water above reminds one of summer breezes, freedom and relaxation.

The cool but warm drops of moisture start gently stroking your shoulders and arms.
The strength increases, forcing you to squint as you take in the beautiful composition of nature above.

Soon you're covering your head as the rain pelts down and you race for shelter.
The puddles appearing on the floor disrupted by the matter consistently falling into them.

You peer into the world, completely changed, as you visibility decreases and smile, the metallic twangs to the rain hitting the patio roof fill your ears and soul with its rhythm and music.

Study.
Yeah, that'll get you places.
As the multitude of students waste away hours,
Studying, stressing, vomiting, anxious,
The hope that we'll eventually reach our dreams,
Yeah, that's barely what keeps us going.

We know our parents are pushing,
Always pushing,
For us to have the life they dreamed of,
But never had.

Do they ever think?
Does it ever cross their mind,
That maybe we don't want that?
Or maybe we want to make them happy,
So we push ourselves farther than we can go,
Just to keep them thriving,
For the last few years of their lives.

So instead of them checking on us,
Making US happy in our own life,
We are pushed, told,
"Study Harder" and "It's worth it!",
But I get the feeling,
Even with a university degree,
I'll still end up depressed, anxious,
And be worried about the future,
And with a debt that will just keep growing.

Two weeks ago,
I said farewell.

To my home.
To my country.
To my family and friends.

My time away was relaxing.
The people were lovely.
But honestly,

I'm dealing with re-entry.
People expect me to just fit in,
But I'm suffering from jet lag,
And am ready to sleep.

If I could just catch a break,
A week, maybe two.
I could get back to normal,
Get my life back on track.

But no.

This is the problem;
Life goes on,
A sink or swim situation.
If you can't catch up,
You're out.

Just like that.

Pounding,
Throbbing,
Stinging pain.

It keeps punching,
Kicking,
At my brain.

I can't see out of my eye.
Not with this,
This solid grip.
Slowly tightening around it.

My vision is cut off,
My pain unbearable.
No one can help me from this deathlike grasp,
Because Migraine has a hold of me now.

I used to always laugh
When someone mentioned dimensional travel.

But I was thinking about it;
What if we've already discovered it?

What if the world we know
Is simply a portal point?

A portal point to other realms,
Other creatures.

The activation code?
Words.

Books, poetry, manuscripts.
Every one a different portal.

The travel would have to be mind only,
But I'm okay with that.

If only it means that I can visit,
A world that is beyond my reach.

I looked out upon the green meadows,
Glistening with fresh morning dew.

I took a deep breath,
The cold air filling my stale lungs.

I felt the grass under my feet,
Soft and swaying as I walked through it.

I moved towards the mysterious woods,
Dark and foreboding in all its' majesty.

I drifted between the trees,
Ancient history surrounding me completely.

I moved to the spring in the center,
A glimmering pool of hope, sunlight carefully caressing the surface.

I looked up into the dense foliage,
The leaves blotting out almost every bit of sun...

I looked up from the book I was reading, thinking;
'That was beautifully written, and beautifully thought.'

I am studying.
I am dying from exams.
I should get some sleep.

Something always present
But never seen

A presence that drags and pulls
At your very being

It dictates your actions and captures you
In its' thrall

It causes deaths and removes ideas'
As you walk, covered in its' shawl

It blocks out everything
Emptying the mind

Controlling the entire body
Making one blind

Boredom is an assassin
Of the creative soul

But is a creator and leader
for some in a hole

I often get this shiver
Running through my body.

Some say it is a person
Walking over the place you'll one day die.

But that's a little morbid,
And a tad bit worrying too.

For on that premise,
I shall die in a open, public place.

So I thought of another idea.
A brighter idea.

What if that shivering shudder
Was your soul mate thinking of you?

Birthday's.
They start out as a celebration,
'Congratulations!'

Parties and presents galore.

But as the years go by,
And time takes it's toil,
Age begins to coil,

And rear it's ugly head.

The death that follows,
Can come quietly, swiftly,
Or it can come cruelly, fiercely,

And ruin the lives around it.

As I wait for the inevitability that lurks beyond the horizon,
I wish I could sleep, relax.

As I wait for this torturous life to continue,
I wish I could look beyond, longingly.

As I wait for the tests and trials to come,
I wish I could believe their words of comfort, help.

As I wait for the oncoming storm,
I wish. Hope.

Inactivity online,
Whilst it may be somewhat sad,
(For followers at least)
Means activity in life,
Which is surely a good thing.

Hi.

You know me.
You've known me for years.

Despite all of this,
I feel like you don't know me.
Or I you.

I have long admired you,
Looked up to you,
Apreciated you.

But it wasn't 'till puberty hit,
That I actually took a good look at you.

You'd grown up.
Mentally and physically.
Quite handsome in fact.

We've known each other for years.
Since we were just toddlers.
But I'd never thought of you like that.

As someone more than a friend.
More than a brother.

I honestly don't know if you like me,
And though your flirting is terrible,
I can't tell if it's practice or for real.

But I wanted you to know
The world to know;
That I like you. A lot.

And I wanted the world to know,
Before you do.

I hear the screams.
Tortured screams of children.

I hear the wind blowing through.
Rattling the un-openable windows.

I stare at the wooden desk.
My torture in progress.

I get a break in fifteen minutes.
I watch the seconds tick by on the clock.

It's freezing in here.
And hailing outside.

There is no hope here.
No hope for the children in school.

You say we're stronger together,
But in truth,
Every wall f
                     a
                       l
                         l
                           s

                                 d
                                   o
                                     w
                                        n
                                           .
                                             .
                                               .

Killing.
Not going to lie. I have thought about it.

Killing myself? Killing others?
Quite serious were and are those thoughts.

Death seems like a sweet embrace sometimes.
A pleasant change from reality.

I have considered it.
But every time, my mind is pulled back.

To those I love, and to those who love me back.
To my future, however grim.

To my life.
So please, if you ever consider death.

Death as but one alternative to the cruel reality of life.
But please don't.

You ARE loved.
By someone.

You are noticed.
Cared about.

You. Are. Seen.

I don't think I could do it.
Live forever, I mean.

Watch as billions of breaths of air,
Get snuffed out as I watch?

I couldn't survive the pain.

But, There is always the possibility that,
After a while, I could stop feeling;
Love, joy, pain and heartbreak.

I could stop feeling it all.

And I think that is what would scare me,
The fact that I could stop feeling
What makes me human.

I hate it when people try to help you,
When you don't need or want it.

But as soon as you need help,
They turn their back on you and find excuses,
In order to not help you.

I'm sorry that I swore.
Honestly,
I didn't mean to.

It was an accident,
But even though that's the case,
I take full blame.

Some may see this as a stupid thing,
Odd and unusual,
Weird and Strange.

But my Christian upbringing
says that I should not,
and due to fury and a hot temper,
they simply slipped off of my tongue.