Unrest

Your casket would weigh less
On my heart in distress
Empty husks haunting the halls
A ghostly countenance permits no rest

Frustration on a Wednesday Evening

I like to see the world as a little artistic. I value ideas over things; things have value because of what they mean, anyway.  There's a lot of beauty to be perceived if we only let it in.
 I don't want to live in the real world. I don't want to live with politics and restrictive government. I want to be happy with my type of happy knowledge. I like some things, but other very similar things, I don't like so much. Let's look at school subjects. I love English, as much as I complain about it, as much as it's a pain in the ass. Would I major in it? No, but it's important to experience and learn about. I love science. There's so much to learn that it's frustrating. It's so real and fascinating. I like knowing how the world works, how life happens, what makes us, us.
I don't care so much for history or government. Ok, I recognize it's importance. But it seems so faulty and corrupted and unchangeable to me. I don't want to memorize these names in my notes. It doesn't matter to me really. As long as I'm safe, as long as I can obtain an education, as long as I can live a simple kind of life, I don't need much more. Take my money as long as I can eat and get around to the things I need, I don't care. All I need is what I love, and who I love. I need some freedom. I need to be allowed to think, to screech out little pieces of art from my own soul.  I don't want to be alone or unguided, I just want some liberty is all. You can argue, that's what history is all about. That's fine. I'm not saying destroy history. I'm just saying leave it to someone else. I don't need it; it's not how I'm going to affect the world.
I'm so bored. I want to affect the world. Why is so little expected of us? I hate this, it makes me want to be lazy. Why not? I could very well get away with it, I mean so many others do.
I am so not in my element. But I will be..soon.

Don't Waste Your Time. Seriously.

It's sort of like a constantly filling glass, with a crack just big enough in it to keep it from overflowing the top. There isn't a whole lot of stability right now. It's sort of been free reign. It's weird. What I've had to do is force myself into places where I can pretend my presence means something, even though it really probably doesn't. Just about the most reassuring thing I have is my cat, constantly snuggled up against me. He won't let me be alone. 
I'm just filling up my time with whatever I can. Like putting random stickers on a page just so it isn't empty. The stickers don't mean a whole lot but they become what I know, they become a space filler and for that I'm grateful. As much as I appreciate them, I'll be surprised if anything substantial comes out of any of this. But who's to put a box around "substantial"? Current worth is substance enough even if it's not very deep or lasting. I was gonna say life-changing, but it sort of is, because without what I have, my friends and those little things I can do here and there, my life would be very different. So they are life-changing, even if I've felt deeper connections. I won't turn away help.

It doesn't really matter what I put here, because I don't think anyone reads it. The slight risk that someone might makes it more interesting and daring for me. I'm not writing for attention; there are more effective ways of getting that. I'm writing because I want a place to put my thoughts. So it doesn't matter how insignificant the cool breeze from outside is, or the ever-so-slight burning at the back of my throat. This is for me. If you want to get something out of it, go ahead, but I won't expect much. I can't expect much. I have to do things for myself. Maybe not completely alone, but part of taking care of yourself is knowing when to go to others. So I do that when I can, but a lot of times I can't. No one really wants to read my soul or listen to my story. I'm just a person amongst many.

Who cares? Well I do, so I guess I'll do things for myself. I'll mess up, but Max will forgive me. He doesn't know hate or anger, really. I'm not sure what those negative feelings he has for Mojo are, but they aren't hate or anger. They're something else. He's innocent. He's better than human. I don't know how I feel about humans anymore. I like the beautiful parts, and I guess I'm a human too, but it's just something that is a fact. I don't feel as strongly right now as I have before about humanity. What's the point? It doesn't do anyone much good to think about the whole of it, the underlying, when all we see is an obscure sample throughout our lives. So I'll only care about myself and the few that are directly around me. 

Indifference. I've been waiting for this. I've been hurt pretty fuckin' bad. But now I just don't care. Sure there are things I'd like. But it doesn't matter. I'll just do what I want and not wait for anything from anyone else. If I can't control it, it doesn't matter. It just is and whether it's supposed to be that way or not isn't my concern if I can't affect it. Music isn't the same. Food isn't the same. Nothing's the same. Oh well. We evolve, or whatever.

I'm Afraid

I'm afraid no one else will find me attractive.
I'm afraid I won't make it to my destination.
I'm afraid I'll spend so much time waiting for happiness, I won't be able to recognize it once it's there.
I'm afraid my intermittent hopes will not come true.
I'm afraid I won't enjoy my job.
I'm afraid I'll break down now and/or then.
I'm afraid I'll have to settle.
I'm afraid crying won't make me feel better.
I'm afraid I'll be alone.
I'm afraid I won't enjoy love again.
I'm afraid of losing the things I still have.
I'm afraid of screwing up big time.
I'm afraid of the way I feel right now.
I'm afraid that feeling will never go away.
I'm afraid that this feeling will keep me from friends, happiness, and love.
I'm afraid I'll shut out everything and everyone.
I'm afraid I'll give up.
I'm afraid I'll always be tired and bored.
I'm afraid I won't be good enough.
I'm afraid I'm not good enough.

Children

Children!
Save your haste for another day
You'll need it much more then.
You wait and wait and wait and hurry
To be all grown up like us
But don't let our height and cars fool you!
The pains you feel at night in your legs
Expanding and growing toward maturity
Are but specks compared to the sharpness
Of the knives stuck into the hearts of children-no-more.
They are twisted and angled
Until all of the veins are wrap't round tight
And we are trap't!
Every beat we feel not excitement for tomorrow
But pleading for the end in which the bleeding ceases.

Dear children!
Don't hurry to learn
For it comes with a price
Your ignorance means innocence
And innocence means happiness
And with experience comes happiness no more!

A Fleeting Thought

I want to take a bullet through the body
I want to feel blood bubble up my throat
I'll be put in a box that is shoddy
Relaxing as they watch my corpse bloat

I want my death to be violent
I want short-lived but excruciating pain
I'll scream then go silent
Feeling life quickly drain

I want to be broken down into element
I want to be made into something better
I'll be one with the sediment
Having no soul to fetter

10/5/12

There's too much inside. I've been valiantly trying to find a way to let it out, but it doesn't seem to be sufficient. My words are inadequate when I speak or write, too much meaning is lost in translation. Music is still new to me and sounds bad coming from my hands. I will practice, of course, I have to.  Even if I'm not right now, I'll make myself proud one day. One day.
I don't feel overly discouraged, I just feel tired. There's been a lot to take in lately, and it's not like I usually occupy an empty house to begin with. I don't even feel like writing anymore.

Ouldn't

I tried to sleep
I couldn't
I think of you
I shouldn't
My heart aches
throb throb throb
Love hurt?
It wouldn't