Welcome to Yourself

I’m blazing along on this strange, open road of prosperous interactions and awkward experiments. Thrown into a mix of laughter and blood, there is quite honestly no time to stop and question the actions that one conjures up to commit. If you ever pause for too long of a time, you will have noticed that nearly everything has slipped between your fingers including the swiftly moving wind of happiness painted in derailed lines. Don’t take this life for granted in thought that maybe your next rebirth you will have a stronger society, a more capable self, because for all you know you may not be priveleged a next life at all – or all 9 of yours have been used throughout these dazed years. Remember to learn not from lessons but from glimpses into mistakes, and do not forget to make further mistakes in separate perspectives as to continuously educate oneself until the greatest knowledge of purity can be reached.

We are all beautiful and have the potential of beings the Gods of this universe…we just have to pull ourselves together, fear not of what is to come, love eternally and forgive everlastingly to those who have the gentlest, kindest of touches to our hearts; humanity is not lost, yet.

Conscious Separation and Enlightenment

Cascading through like waters that brush themselves down a tanned back; freckles mark the days that ones mind seems unable to reassess. As a human race we are thwarted for that non-conceptual entity that which is time and when pleasures are given do you not wish to just stop it? Some say that the difference between the human race and the rest of the universes living organisms is that we have the largest conscious mind, which does not automatically give us the right to believe we are stronger in some way – smarter, if you will, for it is only true if we come to completely master this said consciousness, an ongoing struggle. I can see that difference though, lying beneath breathless moments where your hair twines with mine as our naked limbs are stretched outward; I hear your words gently press into my mind and they create an immediate reaction of blissfulness and that giddy emotion takes over. I can see the difference in how it is we can love one another, how we caress fingertips-to-skin. I can see the difference in our elapsed conversations where language fails us and I strive to flow my thoughts and ideas into your head, my essence paws at the entrance of a weakened wall begging to be let in so that further understanding can take place. I can see the difference in small interactions with strangers, the politeness through gritted teeth. I can see the difference when I become lost in a separate realm as tapped water cleanses my body for hours whereas others will never know the privilege of society and its class system. Then it comes down to the true question; would one want to give up those precious moments for a more sensible, primal and instinctive existence? Once we have tasted the freshness and overall freedom of being bound by a concept like time it is truly difficult to be able to lose ourselves in the midst of nature once again to come one with this relative collectiveness which is the multi-verse.

So it remains as such; how to have that fresh taste still on the tips of our tongues whilst not being restricted by that fellow called Time? Perhaps it is a question that will fuel an undoubted journey upwards, outwards, skywards and forwards through a rippling life of constant positivity. I have faith and confidence that I will find a place where this can be achieved; struggling through the winters but feeling its worth once the sun beats again, cuts and bruises proudly marched as a representation of the Hunter, a shelter befitting for comfortable survival and possible abandonment. To travel, learn the ways of every plain and organism so that coming one with whats surrounding is simpler. Strangers faces will float in and out of life with the exception of a small group of hanger-ons, but the periods of meditation grow larger as our minds crave the understanding of what it is we are and why it is we are. But a fear leaps into my throat that pauses all these plans and takes away the driving exhilaration, the fear that I will have to go out there alone. For solitude is necessary but to live ones life as a Drifter with no other drifting counterpart makes up for a tortured soul that questions itself too much. So till this Drifter finds another one (more likely till the offer is accepted), this one shall be tethered to a place of struggling self awareness.

Tomorrow, We Will Conquer

Everything the day doesn’t care about
falls into your lap with grace
As you sift through old papers,
stumbling gray eyes across them.
You read through illegible lines
as your fear slowly begins to sink –
Deeper into bloodied skin.
You have been quivering always,
afraid of what you knew was true.

Maybe you won’t notice,
that everyone’s problems fall,
Into your head at night,
keeping a constant pressure on your thoughts.
The sun sets with your hope,
your feet are too tired now
And everything feels better and looks
different through bloodshot eyes.
Another day crumbles away,
and you watch the tick-tock clock
Make this day a yester-one.

Suppose This

Who are you supposed to call?
When you look outside your window,
flakes of snow float by in mid-May –
you doubt the flowers you planted will see through.

Who are you supposed to ask?
When the nonsensical orders itself,
neat lines of chaos badger your thoughts –
soft rain patters on sunlit pavement.

What are you supposed to do?
If the stars stop to show,
the leaves of trees turn blue with time –
and all you want is to watch Autumn return.

When are you supposed to succeed?
After all your tries,
running by with feet caked in mud –
your cerebellum tingles with failure.

Who are you supposed to love?
When all that matters is survival,
your breath gets caught between lies –
and the room you sleep in is empty.

Who are you supposed to be?
As the world changes itself around us,
shifting its face into contortions –
and then you get left behind.

Why I Cry At Night: Phase Two

The smoke seems to slowly disappear. Wane off with that same air and is suddenly replaced by another painted picture…this on consists of me lying beside Him with sheets covering our shivered bodies as we wrap ourselves quietly into each other and wonder what we could do with our time. Our short, precious time.

The part that gets me here is that I lean over and I tell you secrets of my life and I whisper words of the future I want to have with you and then your simple responses and no returns make me question things. I speak of children, family, loving life to its fullest, traveling, really just LIVING and you say “Ok” and then go back to sleep. I stare at your beautiful face and look into those eyes of molten chocolate (as I have always described them) and you apathetically lay there before me. Would it kill you to spontaneously tell me what you think about me with words falling truthfully out of your mouth (with no thought whatsoever) instead of with highly concentrated words that fell from ink or fingertips. Even if you want to tell me something bad about myself – at least it would be fucking truthful and I could believe it to its fullest. I just tell myself; He needs time, he does not know how relationships really work yet, I shall give him that time. But it kills me.

I want (I know, it sounds like I am whining now but remember the purposes of these writings and I will re-explain at the end of this passage) to feel your hand over my womb and your breath hot in my ear telling me how much you desire me and your body showing it. I want to feel those fingertips on my body instead of pressing buttons and I want them to feel me tremble beneath their touch and then tremble in return but instead I get a wide-eyed expression and nothing more. How about randomly kissing my cheek and telling me how you feel about me at that moment?

Or giving to me a promise you know you will not forget and know you can keep.

I am ‘whining’ and typing these things because I was asked a little while ago why I cry at night…so I am doing many passages on the exact reasons of why I cry at night (the biggest reason at the top). Phase three is next!

The Golden City of Shadows

We sit here waiting for something to happen, what for something more important to happen than life? What is time? It simply passes through us yet we may never pass through it – the unfairness of life yet again rapes us of our skins. These questions, paradoxes, and other such problems that skim our brains lead us to the point of devestation…THE HUMAN RACE IS KILLING ITSELF!!! Yet, we shall prevail. Life and death will never touch either of us, does that make sense? Of course it does, but it also does not. We cannot live if we cannot die for nothing is immortal, everything is impermenable. I had a dream last night, a nightmare rather, from the sky burned down a flaming sword of light that cast upon me and danced about my body with sheer content as if its goals had finally been accomplished. Then it dimmed. Oh! its life was snuffed out right before me just as I had seen in the movies and of a dying friend slowly passing and then there I was left in the snow with an empty vessel. That is why we never die, because somebody will always be thinking of us – we only die when those people die and those people shall never die. Hang hoops from your ears and paint your face to pale and white tones while lashing up your lashes with outragous designs, is this the meaning of ‘life’? Well IS IT? To pretend to be beautiful inside and out, waste or ‘time’ on simplicity. Doesn’t this sadden the human race, I do believe that there has to be a better reason out there for us other than for us to die. If that is the only reason, these monks that reach ‘nirvana’ and such would have taken away the light of the world and left only darkness for us to live in – putting shame to the human race and making it all extinct. Is that not true as well?? Black is white but black isblack not white because white is white but white is black. Why do I continue to write??