They put red tape over lifes speaker.
All that is real is now lost.
They try to supress you,
Replace all you are with lies.
They want to make you all one being.
They fear the rise of a greater power.
They fear freedom and individuality fore it is the birthplace for rebellion.
The brainchild of longevity.

They hollow out your mind,
Make you numb inside.
So raise your voice,
Burn the tape.
Life is calling,
Shout out in reply!

When sadness comes
I push away
"No, I dont want to do this today"

Because if I face my fears
So dark, so clear
Joy won't have a reason to stay

Supress, supress
Clean up your mess
And live to smile a new day

Where I was, was bad,
But where I am is worse.
I feel like they’re taking away who I am,
Filling my bloodstream with anti-depressants,
Forcing me to become someone I’m not
Someone I don’t want to be.
The fact remains that my sadness defined me
Struggling against the medication
Desperately attempting to hold onto the part of me that’s me
Wanting so badly for my days to mean something
Instead of the same bland depressing schedule I face everyday
The pills do nothing but supress my suicidal thoughts to my subconcious
So I'm forced to fake a smile, one unlike any other.
This one is to keep them from increasing my dosage,
And I'm scared.
I've never felt so alone
This is what I get
For asking for help

Bazooka that veruka
Wage war on your warts
Charge the canons against corns 
And ills of other sorts

Conscript regiments of Rennies
Antacid to supress indigestion 
Establish naval fleets  
Of fisherman friends sweets 
To banish nasal congestion

smear your chest with Vick
To ensure victory is quick
And if headaches ensue
Aspirin will win and subdue

If your enemy is constipation
Let  senna be your friend 
And if your throat is sore
Let strepsils make swift amends 

Show viruses they're not  welcome
Fight back with all your might
Give germs no easy terms
And soon you'll feel alright!

(2pac talkin)
You know what gang violence is, mostly
And the people don't want you to hear this
Somebody shoots your family member
So of course you retaliate, You know what I mean
Same thing the you. S does except nobody even shot their family members
You know, they see that, somebody bomb a school
And all these people get killt
So the united states feel like ooh that's messed up
We gotta go show em who tha real killers
This country was built on gangs, you know
I think this country still is run on gangs
Republicans, democrats, the police department, the fbi
The cia, those are gangs, you know what I mean
The correctional officers,
I had a correctional officer tell me straight,
We the biggest gang in New York state
Straight up
[Verse:]
Supress the revolution of premeditated scheme
Introduce a drug called crack, to us ghetto teens
Got a law for raw ******, now playa what it be like?
When will ****** see they got us bleedin with three strikes
Can't seem to focus hopeless, with violent thoughts I wrote this
Got these Devils petrified, hidin from my hocus-pocus
And so I learned to earn my currency in over time (muahahaha)
Affiliated, clearly click a military mind
May God forgive us though we dwell inside a paradox
Thugged out and drug dealin, from the womb to the block
My live mind got me survivin five rounds
My forty-five got my fortified with live rounds
When ****'s thick we plot hits, when our glock spits
All hail, Out on Bail, Wrath of 2Pacalypse
Forever ghetto necessary picture food stamps
Outlaw **** ****** never left the boot camp
Chorus: Busta Rhymes
We got the real live **** from front to back
To my ****** in the world, 2Pac is back
Where my soldierz is at? (2X)
Where the **** my soldierz at?
Where my soldierz is at?
[Verse 2:]
Now I was born as a rebel, making trouble for the devil
Take this ******* ****, to a whole nother level
Can you feel me now? Armies in every city
Definition of power, players are you with me?
See the war is the profecy, survival is the strategy
Rest in peace to my comrades that deceased
(Busta Rhymes: Notorious B. I. G)
Organize these streets in time
Youll have these devils petrified of a ***** in his right mind
They tell us that we hopeless and hell bound
This for the brothers in penetentiaries jailed down
I got you in my heart till tha day I die
Think of tha damage we can do, if we wasnt high
Can you picture me loc? Its a thugs wrath
Political contracts and blood baths
For Matulu Shakur up in the rikers,
Though they got you, I never let them stop me
The struggle continues
(2Pac Talkin)
Now if we do want to live a **** life and a gangsta life and all of that,
Ok, so stop being cowards and lets have a revolution
But we don't wanna do that, dudes just wanna live of character
They wanna be cartoons, but if they really wanted to do something
If they was that tough, alright, lets start our own country
Lets start a revolution, lets get out of here, lets do something
Chorus: Busta Rhymes
We got the real live **** from front to back
To my ****** in the world, 2Pac is back
Where my soldierz is at? (2X)
Where the **** my soldierz at?
Where my soldierz is at?

sometimes it's heaven,
sometimes it's hell,
I hope I pick the right one
if not, oh well.
I tried to play nice,
But it didn't work out,
sittin in back with a bucket of ice
with my held held high
you're gonna kiss my ***
while i kiss the sky
vindictive by nature
can't supress who i am
with my nose in the air
i'm like toucan sam
I'm a free spirit
and i don't really care
if you don't want to hear it
cause i'm free, free fallin'
enjoyin every minute of it
kickin back with a bottle of ***
if you're against me *******
if you're with me get some
i don't like handouts
so hand it to me
gonna play these strings
like you can't believe
brings tears to your eyes
brings you to your knees
if i stop
you'll be begging me
please , please, please
I need more, more, more
like you can't get enough
like an unused *****
I tried to play nice
but it didn't work out
no it didn't work out

I love your sensitivity
nurture it, it's a treasure
like a superhuman power
said noone to anybody ever

You're upset oh no- I must fix this-
you're broken, please don't cry
these tears make me uncomfortable
supress them, make them dry

A perfectly natural display
of normal human behaviour
is seen by some as weak
too feminine, a problem, a failure

Stop being so ****** sensitive
they're just animals, killed for us
now eat up all your diner
and stop making such a fuss

Don't question, object or argue
just nod, agree and grin
there's no place for emotional outbursts
in the society we're in

It seems sometimes today
with all this mad confusion
in a world of talking robots
we've forgotten that we're human

Yes I want to notice a smartly-dressed
pensioner alone by a train,
to image how it feels
feel his wisdom, feel his pain

because to feel a pull of emotion
glancing at a passing strangers eyes
is neither a weakness nor a hinderance
but a blessing in disguise

               ~

well, it would really become a problem...
if i were still jerking off and had a girlfriend / wife...
the ladies are looking for ultra-violent ****,
it's just a tease off ***** -
there's choking there's *******:
oddly enough... no yo-yo of Watergate?
me... i'm not willing to be shamed...
i still have my ******* -
she can have her webcam e-thot or whatever
the hell the internet **** is: memes my ***...
once upon a time it was merely called graffiti...
i don't see how darwinism can make
a 2nd coming resurgence in the 21st century...
fine... when it first came out at the end
of the 19th century: and opened the floodgates
for the 20th... and thanks to the physicists...
lasso! rein 'em in! rein 'em in:
for the fireplace and the ******* kumbaya...
the girls are looking and having finally decided
on an spanish omelette: but not a french ****
quiche... eggs and more eggs...
while i'm strapped to ******* one genocide
after another into the tissue and
flushing it down as: meat for the crocodiles
and tapeworms pretending they know how
play the parasite attaching themselves
to a white all white: white even if you're copper
skinned, cinnamon, hot choc or...
it's still a white tadpole racer...
i usually get off on looking at some xenia wood
cleavage...
it helps to tell apart the *** cleavage and
the breast cleavage...
i moved from: ******* snaps and started peering
at: when a woman pretends to perform
the lotus on a man's face...
and there's like... a floral pattern involved
with gulping oysters...
have i ever licked an ***-hole?
oh my... have i...
**** - *** 1-on-1... doom... 1st person shooters...
never the 3rd person ghost moving
the body...
am i missing something? the girls are
looking for extreme ***... i'm looking for
cleavage and teddy bears -
and the borderline before the whole body
exfoliates and what not...
as marquis de sade said: it's hardly something
i can control when i have a hard-on
almost 4 times during the day...
if i had a girlfriend... if would be crass to:
sly one in...
but... *******... no woman no cry...
it would be truly sad if i was in a relationship
and still up to the shambles of: not up to any
or the odd sort of good -
there's always this shared approach -
the wants and willingness needs to by made
synch. - they need to be a woman and a man:
polyphony - orchestra!
why write about ***? oh hell...
watch me write anything else -
my linguistic infatuations - *** and all manner
or picked ******* sells -
or... at a catholic school they would still teach
you about the perils of sniffing glue -
apparently the 1960s never happened -
no l.s.d. was ever dropped -
the pints of guinness were drank -
the cement was poured as the muscle to
the iron rod skeletons...

and when i finally achieved a beard worthy
of a post-25 year old - when the full
bush sr. happens - i forgot to curate
a body for: the objective safety of being watched...
or how the hell you word:
prior to the beard i focused on the face
and later the body...
and long hair...
once the beard arrived...
**** it... let's take to donning the Elijah
look... the beard comes way way ahead
of the nose - and now i'm still looking
for my neck -

it's *** it's only spectacular about once...
i've had that once spectacular -
i even got a tattoo -
oh... not me... i'm the dragon alien curl...
where my scar is...
on her right shoulder-blade...
and that's not even as if i branded her
myself...
she was going to fit me out with
dreadlocks and a tattoo of her totem at
the time - a scorpion -
thankfully i read about all this crap
in high school...
nick hornby's high fidelity -

it's still a very musical affair...
i remember what love at first sight looks
like to a fresh 17 year old
novosibirsk girl... siberian girl...
all the way west in edinburgh...
she gobbled the iPod and the playlist...
a near complete oeuvre of iron maiden...
and the odd songs...
while i was correcting two girls attempting
to make pancakes...
girls! you need to put some oil into the dough...
this is dough you'd make a sponge cake with...
so the story goes...

but *** was only spectacular once...
the rest of the time i think i was minding an itch...
even these days...
among... aha! that nag hammadi word:
in the Barbelo - the brothel -
no: i will not study the etymology -
in the brothel nothing spectacular ever happens -
you chance upon a ***** -
you're asked whether you want to use it -
you decline -
to play judas with the lips -
you pay an extra ten quid for you-feeding-the-oyster
suckling and all other leech comparison of oral...
ventures...
it's done - the mirrors are witnesses...
the lights are dimmed - two beached whales
on the shore of a bed of crisp linen -
and no one-night-stand
cocoon *** *******!
how do people stand these cocoon ***:
under the bed-sheets moments?!

because it would be really harsh to have a girlfriend...
and still have to *******...
at least without a girlfriend i can solve
the mystery of the throne of thrones -
no. 1 no. 2 and no. 3 -
then a quick baptism in the shower -
i sometimes found that doing the no. 3
helps with a constipation
of a no. 2 on: the throne of thrones...

- and as someone who discovered *******
before he could produce ***** -
well - the ******* is a "side project" -

because this world already needs no more
puritanical quips -
all this ******* stigmata looms over
the circumcised men -
but of course it would - why wouldn't it?
can you scratch your nose
if you cut-off the "un-necessary" rubicon /
cartilege?

would a balding scalp Adam ever scratch his
head - quiver - i thought that only stubble
and hair prompted one to scratch one's skin?
if i see a bald man scratching his head:
i'll let you know!

the plague of circumcised men's stigmata -
and if i had a girlfriend and she wasn't
"up to speed" like me: quasi marquis de sade
"might expect"...
**** me... even Chikatilo "fathered" children...
so much for "excuses": 2 to be exact!
nominee for bachelor of the year...
205th year (circa) coming:
Kant - the prussian watchmaker in
a coming of: calculating the promenade of
excuses - no famously i didn't / wouldn't
marry -

if you asked what i used to do
on those warm spring nights...
back in ol' satellite of the former u.s.s.r. -
and that... we entertained ourselves...
catching cockchafer beetle and catching girls
and tugging at their t-shirts and throwing
them in...
we: used to that sort of thing...
what better reason to drink seeing
the youth of today:
as a seemingly old dounding man:
well... in your 30s you sort of hit that zenith
of mortality's vitality on offer -
as much as technology is celebrated -
its change - it's impetus -

what's that... quote?
when an unstoppable force (technology) meets
an immovable object (ontology) -
or at least: i find man's ontology
to be forever played and plagued
by a priori "prepositions": genes -
and technolgoy is forever the a posteriori
counter-fact: of what much later...
much much later... in limbo land of history
becomes an: artifact escaping archeology...
now are we all not wishing
for some variation of closure?

memes: represented as genes?
really? i see them nothing but a cheap south-paw
jab's worth of the otherwise obvious:
graffiti (representation)...

girls are really searching for violent *** -
having **** fantasies?
my my - and here i was looking
for a xenia wood cleavage and some Bronzino:
you never have curbed your pornographic
enthuasiasm: if you never ******
off at...
mein gott! it's a meme!
1st comes god's index finger touching
adam's index finger in:
michelangelo's fresco of the creation of adam...
but the higher 2nd?
venus' tongue teasing the tongue
of cupid in Bronzino's cupid, folly and time...

i ****** off to that painting -
it's hard to stop a boy who knew how to:
prior to the kippah-guilt tripping:
no minus the ******* into early teenagehood...
i don't think i have yet to have dumped
the proper load on this: exercise - just yet...

oh the shame:
thankfuly this is england and no h'america -
and jesus is not the queen or king -
ol' lizzie is still playing poker and...
the constitution is and what i will not become
is this "vox populis" of a people
disaffected as to why the tax goes into the
pomp & circumstance and none of it:
thank god! ever goes into sense & sensibility
akin to the consort Middleton family;
that's highly replica prone...
blue-bloods... love them or hate them...
at least you can sight them as
almost unchanging -
sphynx head while the body changes
from male to female - but the sphynx is still there...

of an erectile-dysfunction: i would most certainly
hear if i had a girlfriend...
as it happened - the "free women"
always gave me a limp...
in the brothel i was there and she was there -
and i was she and she was i
and we weren't bothered about
counting two transgender sheep
of the nag hammadi library -

even on those one-night stands:
erectile-dysfunction - dim lights two beached
whales on the bedsheets i could stomach...
in a brothel...
but then she took me home
like some morrissey wallow and...
it was all about cocoon ***...
i've heard that temperature changes
the *** of frogs upon insemination...
cocoon *** under the bedsheets...
i stopped going out...

it's might almost sound like boasting:
believe me... it's disgruntled sarcastic... the overtone
to these words...
even i tried teasing a fetish with
latex lucy - but... then i thought about...
if you start wearing the same clotches
for god knows how long -
like an imitation of dog's hair...
you'd wish to squish into something
less pardonable / expected like a full gimp
imitation of lizard latex...
but violence an ****?

maybe that's why i started to tease
1970s italian classics...
dubbing from belgium and amsterdam
and all that...
but always after the torso cleavage -
always after the Om-onomatopeia look of
absent eyes and boiling tongues in a gurgle...
the contorted final stages of the face
before the lesser death as:
faking birth in ****** -
or what the hell you call: scavenger of:
never the lost details...
and if i had 7 children in the bag i would be
a fraud... and if i had a girlfriend
i would be a fraud and hopefuly ashamed...

came the white flag... came the rainbow flag...
came the ******* flag...
came the image: how would you ever find
yourself in a desire to blink: to peacock flutter...
without a pair of eye-lids?
hmm...
all those ******* freed arguments...
not coming from the "progressive school"
of islam -
or the hasidic jewry where:
a woman is to made to make concessions?
otherwise: waiting for that
golden moral maxim Confuscian wifey?

that a deity should...
somehow give moral laws...
i thought that man was the moral lawgiver?
if god were to become the moral
law advocate...
man should most certainly become
the physical law-giver - or at least:
to best serve my attention -
attempt fictional escapes via superhero
infantilism...

again: historiological infantilism -
the only serious history we are supposed to know
comes from h'america...
the civil rights movement -
that's serious history!
everything else is infantile historicism -
interchange of historicism and historiology -
yes - heidegger's leftovers...
but what is serious history?
and what is infantile history?
oh i'm pretty sure much of history kept in
agitated dust is: cowboys vs. indians
roleplaying... games...

cite anything serious of the past...
if there's no stampede toward some platonic exit...
then serious history happens with
the h'american civil rights movement...
after that we only have journalism
and bad idea dear diary entries...
of the next to come: ***** teenager
plague by acne and the many more oopses to come...

- and with the world saturated by:
an **** of forms - wielding their interwine and
maggot pit of "metaphors" -
better i write this than speaking during *** -
what could possibly saturate the "land"
that's already a swamp -

somehow i'm not edging toward a moral
superiority - the day i discovered
that god was both the god of writing
physical: and moral laws...
i was assured by the chinese that:
all kosher and all halal would pass
the test of the: 3 peepsqueaks...
no? do not eat a pig: do not eat a mandarin!
god only knows what the pig ate...
god forbid you ever knew the full
menu of Beijing!

pigs are the: das schlechteste!
das äußersteschlechteste!
pigs, mandarins, bats...
the bubonic plague, rats,
"supposing that africans would ever ****
monkeys"...
why would africans ever
**** monkeys...
i'm supposed to be ashamed of
having a hard-on...
while the white girls rummage
the carousel!

i could suppose the chinese already
ate the supposed ****-buddy to begin with...
it's no more funny when the "thing"
spreads like a mongolian shy-auxilliary
brigade of: voyeurs of:
the only evolution we are to be concerned
with, is to be better associated
with viruses, parasites and lice...

and if i were to live a sheltered western
liberal elite life... "elite":
the bigger the mouth the bigger the... whatever...
no complaint from the arabs
itching over well curated pork...
they'll allow the mandarin diet! no problem!

it's no problem...
pigs are the "problem"... when a god devolved
to invoke moral laws: his most high!
and it was "somehow" not man...
how can god, a monotheistic god...
give both physical laws and moral laws?
to me that's near impossible!
ah... unless this god is given
the "plotheistic" splinter of being
a theistic god and not a deistic god...
a theistic god gives both physical
and moral laws... a deistic god gives:
no moral laws: he was expecting
we could do so!

i can't believe in a god that plagiarises
man's activity -
man can't change the laws surrounding gravity...
yet to be known whether light
is somehow subjected to gravity...
but a god does not intervene by giving
moral laws...
having already established physical laws...
entertaining himself in the playground
of metaphysics...
only a prince... the devil -
would ever... intervene as god to give...
higher authority: a plagiarism of
man-made laws...
and call them: with deity origins...
why would a "god" meddle in:
you will not steal, you will not ****...
when...
god has set up a recycling centre?!

god is no judge, prosecutor, lawyer,
defendent, the accussed,
the jury over moral laws...
he is the epitome of physical laws:
the unchanging...
to have confused divine intervention
with a god bowing -
before and succumbing to...
man's ordiance... a moral law...
god does not allow himself moral qualities...
and god would not discriminate
against a pig: saying:
but the pig is the most economic piece -
had not man found the boar and
domesticated it?
the boar became the pig domesticated!
and the pig can be eaten...
from snout to tail and with only
the oink missing!

for a god to be so degraded as
the arbiter of physical laws -
to be ***** into giving moral laws...
only a devil would...
only a devil would...
only a devil would play with man's moral
laws... and attempt to supress
the already constaining impossible
with his cameo in egypt -
that machiavelli of sorts...

if the quran attempts to question
the cleanliness of pigs:
and god made the pig...
or rather made the man and the boar
and allowed man to domesticate the boar...
sick... ugly... but...
kept the mandarin: pristine!
save the pig... eat a mandarin!
if you dare...

how much do i abhor these infernal riddles:
how much i abhor scolding the bacon:
is also as much as:
you deserve the beijing sneeze!
you should let it palm tree vacate
and spread in the united arab emirates!
oh.. go on go on go on!
who's not looking?!

i only have old teutonic anthems to listen
to... because...
i like the way german sounds,
how german sounded...
how german will sound...
because at least german is not english...
and that's almost asking for a plum
tattoo of hue under the teasing
socket and the cheekbone: when in england...

no zeppelin echo you hear?
encore! again! again!
it's not o.k. to eat a pig according
to the hebrews of the muslims...
the mandarins will act worse than pigs
that the classical monotheists speak of...
a cat could catch a mouse...
but a cat could not be served a mouse
on a platter... what's that dish called?
the 3 peepsqueaks?
and pork is bad?
pork is just the tip of the iceberg
concerning these omnivores...
at this point... perhaps cannibalism?

islam go back home: check if there are
any mandarins living among you...
pork is bad... pork is bad!
this is not being paranoid this is me being funny!
pork is bad and your pseudo-god
of man-made moral plagiarisms!
*******: snippet the ******* but sure you
hell and bring me the niqab!
no *******? no niqab...

why are you looking at me?
i'm a tired old european...
why should i know what floats the boat
over in h'america?!

this "god" and the "intervention"...
oh i'm pretty sure we made our moral laws...
they weren't exactly to translate as a morality =
claustrophobia...
"god"...
               a belief that the same god
created the physical laws / barriers...
and somehow... decided to... plagiarise, human,
moral laws...
how this "god" decided to become
architect of physical laws...
and the interpolator of morals?
really?

a god that's critical of pork per se:
******* sheep ******* the semites...
but not critical of the mandarin diet?
that's no god; "at least not to me"...
the god that made gravity critical
as immoveable...
but a secondary god that...
was ignorant... of the fact that...
humans already punished stealing
and ******?!
why require a doubled emphasis?!

it's as if "god" made an entrance -
when no pyramids were to be built...
it's not: oh no...
we were never given any a priori parameters!
we were always supposed to sink into:
the thinking of being free...
let's face it...
at best: bad operatics of
madame butterfly at best:
only a soap opera.

eyesopen
neverstill
Knuckles cracking, urning pills.
thewhite
goodnight
, Just Contemplate!

on such good night i couldnt wait.

to SUpress instict
,
Fears of fate.
It's so **** great
til i eat like 8

Then  the next
day's worse
And I can't maintain.
I'd steal a nun's purse just to
not complain.

And
I'm not in
sane
As much as deep in pain.
I'm no citizen tamed,
said I'm siblingless Cain

Quick
&
Thick
the comedown came

staring at a window
a distance of
two inches away
        the world outside
    falling...
    piece
    by
    piece
    by
    piec­e
             buys
             pieces
             buys
             peace
                       by
                       pieces
                       it
                       pierces
          please------
     all i have
          in silence
                 in hushes
          your flushes
                               pierces...
                 one
                 two
                 three
          then your smile,
              all that is left...
          no longer pleases...
like puzzles
they scattered
                          all in pieces
               so hard to place together
         yet so **** hard to supress
                   i hate it.
if she loves me
yet she
loves me not
            can't seem to fit.
         i place in
   all the moments
       one by one
       bit by bit
                             altogether
             infinitely
                         tirelessly
                in repeat.
                         every single smile
             serene in capture
      even the tone
          of her song
                    caught in record
every flicker of her hair in my mind
just like a screenshot
              and even the blink
      of her eyes
           each individual dot...
    she loves me?
    she loves me not?
                  the flashes
        in and out
  staring at the window
      only two inches away...
           listening closely------
  she loves me?
  or she loves me not?
                 the outside world
     like a breathtaking blossom
     bald of petals...
           falling
                piece
                by
                ­piece.

Heartbreak in many ways is a small death, all the same.

A part of you dies when regret is born and you can never get it back while wondering what could have, would have or should have happened.

When your food tastes horrible and the colour fades from the world around you and you are left with what only feels like a fever dream. A low budget version of reality and the writers are all on leave.

Why does this happen? Even though we've seen this film before. Different actors on different days but we all imagine the same ending and we know that there is a plot twist at the end when things don't go the way we thought it would. The way we hoped it would.

Is it perhaps that our hopes and dreams are the leading cause of death? Might we all stop romanticising the idea that our lives are one of the greatest films of all time?

Oftentimes the greatest tragedy is not death but rather the fact that we choose to feel nothing at all. That somehow closing the tap is the answer. Turning off the TV so you don't have to see how it all ends.

Unplug the cables. Throw away the disc. Supress the feeling of wanting more. Out of sight out of mind.

But in order to die, one must live. And if the little death is inevitable, why not live like it isn't? What exactly do you have to lose that you haven't lost already?

she had mornings
(still does)
where she'd not talk to anybody
so i'd get on tumblr and check,
finding the familiar phrase
she used on these days
"i'm such a *****"

and between classes
i would find her and wrap her in my arms
and tell her she wasn't
she never believed me,
always disagreed with me

so isn't it ironic
that those words-
"you aren't a *****"
are the ones i hold on to now
everytime i start thinking she is
i tell myself i was right,
that she's only had a hard life
and thinks differently than me

but then she cuts me off walking in the hall,
she gives me emotionless stares on the bus
(where i sit 8 seats farther from her than ever before)
and i almost call her a *****
but i hold off, knowing i was right

i walk an extra three blocks
to and from the convenience store
to avoid her house.
i spend lunch in the library
to avoid hearing her voice.
i walk home from the elementary school
to avoid her presence.
and i don't go swimming
with my brothers boyscout troop
to avoid the memory
of the first time she said she loved me.
but when i'm about to call her a *****
because avoiding her
only makes me remember what she did to me-
i stop
because i know i was right

those words were probably the reason
she left for the last time
the reason she says nothing to me now
becasue she always believed she was right.
i only hope i'm right,
but i try so hard to convince myself
because i don't want to, someday
get so ******* that i scream at her
that she's a *****.
because that will break her
and she'll think she's right
that all her insecurities and anxieties
are true
are righteous,
and she'll be hurt forever
thinking that she's horrible.
she isn't

she isn't a *****
just misunderstood by herself.

when i look at her,
i feel no anger
and i supress the sadness
which may create anger.
anger only fuels my thinking that word
and i can't bring myself to hurt her

no matter how much she hurt me.

not a *****...
not
a
*****




©Brandon Webb
2012

Glowing Windows embedded into mouldy brick walls
Ivy climbing the gutters of neighbourhood roofs
Skies becoming burnt out like charred blackened fields

Tall spiny trees project shadows onto the road below
Leaves curl up to receive some weakening light from above
A formation of sputtering cars cling to each turn they decide to make
Cloudy milky light bounces off faulty windows that exhale the aroma of somebodies impending supper

A heavy truck manoeuvres itself into the blistered bitumen horizon
Dry deflated branches make obscene gestures towards passers-by
Gardeners rummage through their bags as they near the end of their working day
Their faces filled with an expired enthusiasm for breathing

Parked hunks of metal pelted with dead itchy leaves
Windscreen wipers hold fragile twigs down against grotty neglected glass
Chain-link fences link disparate housing and the sleeping people within
Some dispirited unsatisfied psychos gaze up as they catch a moving bus

Smoky Incense billows down from some apartment balcony
The air becomes cold and sharply fills these ordinary streets
Engine sounds try to supress the divine quietness
They only merge into it

Now the stars are out and about
Bright specks waddling in an aerial pool of dark blue
You turn the key and walk through the front door

i can
conjurer up words
mix delicate
intricacies of verse
with poetic license
i might defecate
upon scripted genius
   of the past
a scourge
on the eloquence
   of perfected prose
a pariah
with semantics
that hang in the air
like a frequented noose
the rhetoric of
this rhetoric
both dumbfounds
   and delights
the agenda of the learned;
to supress
the syntax spat forth
the phlegm and catarrh
of a gut
of derivatives

i could compose
a verse
for young lovers
   to cherish
if i could
only stop
the rot;
genius
   nonsense
      or ignorance
i couldn't
tell you
which

I don't see kids get excited anymore
Emotions confined to the definition of what's cool.
Conversations limited to replies,
Thier words uncertain, and lack conviction.
Excitement caged behind paraphrases like "oh ok", "cool" and "for real".

I see the light of a childs spark diminished, there beautiful flame extinguished by words like;
"Calm down""Relax" and "Chill out"

I'M TIRED of seeing a childs expression voiced through texts, instead of emotion
I'M TIRED of seeing acronyms convey action and supress expression
I'M TIRED of seeing children automate experience through technology instead of life
I'm saddened.....
I'm saddened to see children trying to play adult, instead of just being children

Let not fear be a hindrance
To the things you wish to say or do
And so as the gloom of day
Keep you static, unmoving

Supress no longer
The emotions you bottled within
And let your thoughts ascend
Unto their own paths

* *

Endure the flow;
Leave the circuitry be
Let the pulsations persist;
Let yourself feel a moment for once

Or must the weight of the shadow remain to envelop you
Unless you choose to break away–
Not only shall the sunshine touch your skin,
But the crystals be absorbed and dissolved

When sorrows sorround you,
When things depress you,
When you are unable to express your emotions,
When you are forced to supress your passion,
When you keep failing everytime,
When you can't fight the hardships of life,
When you start hating everything,
When you end up thinking suicidal things,
Those moments when you feel helpless,
And you begin to act way too careless,
Then comes the time to fight,
Hold your breath tight,
Bring that smile on your lips,
Not for me,not for you,but for those who care about you.

It comes at night
Terror grows in lack of light
Minds run rampant, compelled by fright
Of fear's omnipresent might

The hearts pounding rings in ears
You supress your precious tears
Unaware if it may hear
Giving life to all your fears

Oh so fragile is the mind
Of it's power we are blind
For it creates this fear of ours
Which comes to us in midnight hours
Trembling we will await
To what next it collates

Headaches and Home
09/10/2010

You remember the comfort of that living room,
Summers that never seemed to fade,
But now all that your accustomed to,
Is a blinding headache.

So you try not to move on that sofa near the door,
Because the more you do, the less you see the floor,
And the pain is so complete so intense, at least you know it exists,
What could matter more than this?

And those dreams that you have, of blizzards and snow,
They tell you more about you, than you ever seem to know,
And the truth is that you want nothing more,
Than to go back to that place called home.

Because its not the people, not even the places,
Just the way the setting sun made you feel,
So your already sick of all these blank faces,
But atleast you can hold onto something real.

You dont have to cry, you never liked wet eyes,
There's a time and a place for such things,
So supress all those emotions, the happiness in being,
Just get a headache from the swallowed "feelings"

I shut them up. The feelings.
I tell them to keep quiet so I can pretend they're not here.
And they do, they are silent.
But it should make me feel good and it doesn't.
I just feel nothing until I feel everything together.

There are days and weeks and months of nothing.
Of ignoring the pain in my heart hoping it'll go away
if I pretend it's not there; of holding back tears when
they threaten to fall, until my head hurts with the
effort; of telling myself it's all alright and I'm actualy
okay; of being numb and empty. As I supress the bad
feelings, I also supress the good ones. I feel absolutely
nothing.

And then, out of a sudden, resulting usually of too much
time alone and overthinking, the feelings can't be controled
any longer. And I cry, and it hurts like hell. The feelings scream
and kick and fight because they don't wan to be silenced again.
And there's this voice inside my head mocking me and telling
me they'll always be there even if I pretend they're not.
I know, it doesn't matter what I do, they'll win anyway.

But I shut them up again.
I may not win, but I keep fighting.
I have to.
One day, I hope, they'll be gone for good.
And then I'll enjoy the silence.

don't you dare fall in love with me
i'm not the one
i'm not yours
there's so many things i'm not

but

i am the one on your mind
i'm the one you can't forget
i'm the memory you can't supress
i'm the nightmare that wakes you up
i'm  the dream that puts you to sleep
i'm the warmth you feel from the sun
i'm the secret you can't keep; the wish you can't make

i'm the lover you forgot
i'm the girl that changed your world
i'm the fear you keep inside and the anger you yell out
i'm the one for him, but not for you
i'm the one you need, the one you hate to depend on
i'm the girl you wish i wasn't, but i am

this is me.
you know me.
but don't you dare fall in love with me.

The synergistic symbiote
Whom dwells deep upon my breast
Hides secrets within the locked chest.
Tethered heart strings play a familiar note.

Tightly wound, eroding away
Confusion gives rise, memories wash over
Dr Jekyll, Mr. Hyde struggling to be sober
Detoxing lies I told myself were okay.

Beg for the truth before you leave
The lump in my throat budges, failing
In my head is one story, railing
Away to free, a goal I won't achieve.

Two kindred spirits struggle,  power
The true motivator, the opressor killing
Dreams to express brokeness chilling
My spine as we debate and you turn sour.

Friends one moment, devils the here after
Souls once melded, fight for control
Where I am me, you look to patrol
Finding my weakness, self claimed master.

Words won't find a wandering ear
To which could understand, pain
Like this, losing all with nothing to gain
Supress these fears, in silence dear.

We write the words, we won't speak
Nightmares live through day dreams
Stalking the foolish, insane screams
Suffer this shell, shed yourself of the weak.

If u wish to really know me
Don’t listen to the words I speak
Instead listen to my heart beat
Or look into my eyes and carefully read
For words can’t express
True feelings they often supress
Under the veil of hypocrisy
And much appreciated diplomacy.

If u wish to really know me
Walk along a mile and yourself see
For the world has been judgmental
N no one had d time to untangle
The calmness behind d restlessness
The sanity behind the madness

But you are too busy to stop by
And too sweet to deny
So go ahead judge me again
Even m too tired to explain
But if you wish to really know me
It wont take much time if you carefully see

New days can't supress the years
lessons learned
Another page to
Turn

The other cheek
Chapters & passages
To burn

Throwing it all away
In pursuit of
Better days

But living with the daunting risk
Of reliving the pain

Sometimes old scars
Can bleed
exposing the Psyche
Dissecting the past

Despite what I thought
Was finally behind me

Thoughts become unhinged
Its all downhill from here
May as well turn up the stereo
And crack another beer

Cause life's a constant *****
Some will slip, and some
Will choke
Its up to you
To persevere

grin and bare
Through adverse years

The past is gone
The time is now
To pick up the pieces
And allow yourself
To forgive
yourself

My shadow only wanna hide beside me,
all things going so wilde,
black shadow in the front of a ray of light,
seems to b no more visible in the existance survival fight,
it feels like that m so numb,
that i cant cry or smile and peoples start saying that m a dumb,
but i m not i cry but no 1 bothers that m crying and m i feel so alone,
they just ignore me and wore me a thrown,
and made me the king of lonelyness and try to supress,
the things i guess,
that these r hurting me too much,
and destroying the best part of myself and if i wannna clutch,
the part it goes more apart,
from my reach,
& as usual the peoples who see me try to teach,
there own non-sense lessons,
if dont wanna get those they felt m in the list foolish of foolish persons,
they putted itno who dosnt make a agree on there stupid speeches,
it's still going darker here and echoes but not reaches,

once upon a winter,
a storm made a victim out of you,
and so you sleighed to warm embracing arms,,
but they called your feelings out as faulty,

you tried to supress the past,
indulged the present,
and disregarded any grudges into spring,
but you didn't linger for warmth anymore,
your heart ached in ways it hadn't before,
you doubted the only soul residing in your body,

sleep was your only escape from reality,
but your dreams were forearmed,
trapping you back to a survival
which you felt unfortunate to have,
next thing you know,
you become a living metaphor for, "can this get any worse?",

She knew,
she was different
and that
she wont fit in
they'd never accept her
as the real her
she knew
there are boundaries
always to be kept
and
there are lines
never to be stepped on
that there are limits
never to be crossed...

They knew
she was different
and that
being different was
not here choice
it was in her
like an instinct
and knew the chances
of her dying
if they tried to
change her
but still
they ordered her to
change !!

Surrendering to them
just to be accepted
and
to be normal
like others
she decided to change
and
after fighting a war
killing her dreams
and a part of her soul
she was finally able
to supress her
wired side and
was Ordinary
like others !!

Not a love song
Not a sad song
Just words to express
Things I've tried to supress

Not a love song
Not a sad song
Nor any kind of song
Its a melody untold

In the midst of a summer day,
With the sun gleaming golden brown
I wake up to find a flickering ray,
That interferes with my thinking crown.

I'm sitting down on my bed,
And travelling to far-off harbours
I cannot think of anything else,
But just the magical grandeurs.

I've reached the Crow's shore of Ketterdam,
And am sailing for Hogsmeade
The Ferolind's joltingly reached Nottingham,
And I'm not thinking of nothing else.

The purple tulips, the marvellous castle,
All shiny on a shining day
The wind's whistles, the leave's rustle,
All make me delightful on this day.

The world seems so tiny,
From up above the blue skies
The Firebolt I'm now riding,
Seems to supress the little lies
I used to take in as a child.

Suddenly everything's so harsh,
I think I'm in the land of the White Witch
I crave for Turkish Delight so hard,
That I know not of the awaiting risk
Into the dark castle, as the daughter of eve.

I was so lost in the mysterious magical whirlwind,
I think I've travelled far, but not even a mile
When I open my eyes, I clearly see the still wind
Of dust, crime and fraudulence all in a pile
That tempts me to snivel for the fair play,
Since I'm the lost girl and the world, a treacherous display.