Misery

I'm all out of tears, nobody to cry for
but a boy with a bottle and his foot on the throttle,
The sun will be rising in the east. The dust, settling in the west.
Soon I'll be done, misery, my father, me, his son.

Self-destructive

I see it coming in the distance. The day is clear, my sight is blind.

You beat your head against a mirror. Ironic or appropriate?

I stand in this sinking sand waiting for you to stop and turn around. Ironic or appropriate?

Proving a point never felt so meaningful as it does now. Saving a soul just before you loose your own. It's the principle. 

I see only in the color of love. Ironic or appropriate?

Amateur

Twenty-one years pass and yet I say, "amateur," -- to love, to wisdom, to brotherhood, all the same.

Beginnings never seem to cease and success never to ensue. No experience can take away the pain of the never ending, ever refining love. An owl who knows is an owl who sows into the knowledge of the elder; for those are the ones with experience in beginnings. They perform, they foresee not like magicians but mathematicians, calculating vain with sane.

Oh my brother. I see you over there. I say "hello," but the static noise is too loud, I say "come over," but the people are too proud. Inexperienced, I will continue to love.

infinitus

High

I focus my attention on my mind. I'm falling high. Thoughts cascade down the walls of possibility and stop at my feet. I stand for the nobility and realize I need to chop wood to feed the fire.

Outside is sobering to the unconscious. The ocean blue sky sparkles like fine crystal glasses. Embers join in with the dance to the waves, floating like fireflies high into the sky.

Hunger lies surface deep. Feed the monster, lose humanity. The growls are loud and I am proud. The monster is silenced with baked animals and colorful worms. Milk is the only link from us to them, from them to absurdity.

Mirrors project my past onto me while windows open possibilities to new adventures. But for now I'll go to sleep. I will close my eyes and fall fast into the sky under the mattress. I will sleep high.

September

Filled with magnificent disaster. Your presence is heavy and hard to ignore. Ten days in and you're born, one more and you're torn.

You say God toys with you, I, moving lifelessly like a marionette. I say play the game. Be the girl you want to be. See the things you want to see.

I see destruction, at least for now, I see heartache.

Stipulation

It's inevitable, life will always be filled with stipulations.

Don't do this, don't do that. Don't do without this unless you have that. People tend to make life more complicated than it already is.

Secretly Brilliant

Tonight some friends and I went to IHOP and just drank coffee and smoked (well they did the smoking). I started to scribble on a napkin and thought to myself, "I wonder what the most interesting scribbles have consisted of."

Now I know this is a bit of a "stoner" thought but just in its simplest form... genius's scribble. I'd like to see and know, where and what they wrote. It just fascinates me that such brilliant minds at some point just let their visions run wild and careless onto paper. I'd like to see what that looks like. I mean, when I think of scribbling, I think of it as a vision with no form, an idea with no thought, just intimate and far from structure.

Scribbling takes on a whole new persona.