"America is the only country that went from barbarism to decadence without civilization in between. America had often been discovered before columbus but had always been hushed up." - This one IS by Oscar Wilde Nena lol, I just didn't add the quotation because it was posted from a text. However, the one you commented on, is not. Hope that clears it up.

I fell far. Farther than icarus did. Feeling the same shocking disappointment at failure. As i was falling, i tried to grip the walls with my nails. But i quickly realized they were made of air. And i would just continue to fall. When will i reach the bottom? I live with this fear everyday.

I was on top of the world. But I neglected to see, that when you get to the top of the mountain, there is no other place to go but fall over the edge.

The Journey to a Human's soul

Written today @ 6:45pm, taken from a journal.

Souls illuminate differently to me. The mailman's soul might be brighter than my brother's. I "know," before I really do, and I love having that gift. Your soul, my human friend, is bright; it makes the world turn paper-white, and makes eyes see no more than the blind can. However, I see some thing in there that involuntarily causes my chest muscles to relax, something like feeling intoxicated. Its an odd but comforting sensation that I can only describe as something similar to when someone's heart sinks. So it makes me want to lunge and discover the diamonds in your soul and emeralds in your eyes (door nobs for your soul). It makes me want to reach through that "angel-wing-white" blinding haze you throw and know, but I am planets away. All foreign souls, not our own, are that far away and take many journeys in order to reach and understand. No one said anything was easy, and I don't expect it to. That is part of the final joy, they say. My soul will reach yours in time. And as two entities from some unknown world, they will roam and flirt among the haze like two faceless and formless ghosts, as when two plastic bags dance in the wind. For that is how humans work and connect. So for now, I inhabit a road pale as Danish, white as birth, light as snowflakes, and transparent as ghosts.

My eyes are blind to all I see,
and this curiosity is fed by ambiguity.
There's no soul brighter
and no feeling, lighter.
There's no eye more magnetic
and no aura more electric.
So I venture off
through the doorways in your eyes,
through the pastures
where the green grass
feels as soft as a whisper.

"La vérité vaut bien qu'on passe quelques années sans la trouver." - Renard

No one knows what its like to die, because by the time they die they cease knowing anything anymore. (Sent via text.)

Dear posters!

Thanks to everyone who has commented on my posts! I sincerely love each and every one of you, haha.

BUT, if you're going to post, try not to post "anonymously," so that I may thank you properly. :D

Thanks!

READ+COMMENT = I <3 YOU, ha-ha!

"Lost in Dark Alleys" [Inspired by Lionwax.]

*Note: This piece was inspired by the song "Lost in dark alleys," by Laszlo Bolender's project: Lionwax, which can be heard here: http://lionwax.blogspot.com/ It is recommended that you listen to it while reading, since music is the inspiration for most of my pieces and therefore is very important.*


The night was as dark as soot.
The moon was as yellow
as the eyes of hepatitis.
The world was sleeping,
nestling among warm sheets,
soft as the calves of newborns.

And as perfect as it was,
as round as the moon was big,
she ran, until ultimately,
she walked.
And then she stopped
in the middle of the alley,
no more lost than the look in her eyes,
and no more scared than the form of her mouth.

She gripped onto the bricks,
as if begging for help,
finding nothing but "inanimate-ness"
and train tracks that stop
in the middle of nowhere.
Her nails dug deep into the crevices
of the space between the bricks.
Her nails were almost at the point of detaching
upon realizing she couldn't erase the images in her mind
of those independent fingers she encountered.
So she took off her ring
and threw it as if it was on fire.
She fed the bricks with tears,
and sang to them with a mixture of screams and sobs.

A noise from around
fed awareness in her eyes
and so she ran again.
And upon reaching the corner filled with light,
her body, abruptly, stopped
at the hands of a shadow.
Metal in the form of a skyscraper
impregnated her chest with death.

Things to consider and note when reading my posts

1. Things in italics are usually instructions or "notes" prior to the poem, explaining something.
2. Most things in parentheses or brackets are other options for wording or phrasing as to what comes prior it, since these are still in working stage. Nothing is ever finite.
3. Don't assume every poem, essay, piece, thought, crumb, or quote is self-reflected on me. Some stuff is fiction, other is not but I won't say which is which. Just don't assume its all about me, or from me. It can be from a "persona" I made up about something completely made up, ok? lol
4. Don't criticize my grammar, as I said, these are still in working stage and sometimes I just want to get it out there. I know what I'm doing, I just might be a bit lazy.
5. Any questions, tips, or comments not about the blog, email me.

Untitled

Taken from a journal  - May 21, 2008 -  No time recorded (strange)
*note: not all my poems/thoughts/writings/crumbs are self-reflected hahahaha)*

I sat in a room,
and above my head,
in an opaque mist
I saw my father
in a room, dark as the inside of bodies.
He sat in an armchair.
Both of his hands on the armrests
and my little arms at my sides.
I stood in front, facing him.
My six-year-old pupils glazing at him, vacuous.
His shirt was clean, my eyes were lost.
The chair was tired,
and his fasteners [buttons] undone.

The hardest thing: Impotence

If you knew how hard impotence is, you would change your ability to hesitate. It is an invisible force that serves as a barrier. It is a gag in the mouth, rope around your wrists, a weight on the soul, or a gloomy guilt on the conscience. Impotence comes in all forms. Ethics force barriers on most, but those are bearable. Self-created impotence is the most frustrating feeling in the world. It makes your eyes want to shoot out of your head, forward, if your mouth is covered shut. I'll continue this conversation at a later time...

Im surrounded by hyperboles in the form of human actions.

To: The Distant One #1

Written today from 8:33pm-8:46pm, Taken from a journal.

I want you to know
that the season has changed.
That I've shed my skin.
That time is not the same as when you started.
I want you to know so many things,
as they are spilling out of the tops.
And they become as obvious as existence
and death.
But maybe my signs aren't clear,
and you'll stray into a cluttered forest
and get lost in the "uncomfort."

So then I will need to look for you,
and rescue you from being, almost certainly,
lost.
Once I lose you in the frosty cool depths of "unknowing,"
the road to retrieve you will be almost impossible to tread.
As one day, you will meet another traveler
who will beat me to where you are,
and my grips will forever lose strength on you,
and you will eventually float away
into forgetfulness... of me.

But I'm hesitant in fixing my signs,
as I start to guess where your path should truly lead
and where your ultimate joy resides.
Before, it didn't matter to me, where you ventured off,
However, you cracked my heart open, like a coconut,
and let the liquid love pour out like melted chocolate
glazing onto your strawberry heart.

I spend my days now, mapping out the roads you should take,
to get you where I think you should be.
However, maybe I should remove all signs,
and let you roam whichever way you please,
like a wild beast who is hungry for love.
For only that way, will it truly lead
to where you need (want) to be.

"The Second Kind: Holding Someone Else's Love"

There is an awkward feeling
like the awkwardness of a bruise
when you're cornered into the burden
of carrying someone else's one-sided love.
There are some who abuse
and then there are some of us
who are placed in another type of situation.

The second kind, cup their hands
and are faced with lump plopped into them.
It is a deformed and slimy organ
that is as red as the rawness of meat.
It is deformed because hearts that are not whole
are grotesque as such.
Only complete, two-sided loved ones
form that simple stenciled heart.

And there is a person, staring you in the face
while you look at this thing.
Afraid to move, as the wrong one could
split it in two or cause it some sort of heart attack.
You feel nothing else but worry,
unlike the typical abuser.
And you start to grow somber
since no ideas are being born in your mind.
And any moment from here on,
will result in horror and terror
since you will have to move,
in order to return it.

Without malice or malcontent
you realize that from this point on
you will be as hated as the abuser-kind.
A painful truth is best than a lovely lie.
Regardless, you will be hated the same.
It doesn't matter what intentions you have
or with what care you hold it,
the heart will break upon return
to its jail of a home.
And you will forever be the breaker
to the break-ee.

-------------------------------------
-10:43pm.. written online only.

Oldies but goodies #3 - Love, Hate, and Survival.

Written 9-16-09 @ 7:41pm Taken from a journal
The only thing worse than not having your feelings reciprocated,
is having them taken and destroyed (or run through a wood chipper).


Written 9-16-09 @ 7:43pm Taken from a journal.
You know love is dead when you go from asking for a kiss
to asking for the truth.
Because all love expires, enjoy it while its fresh.


Written 10-5-09 @ 7:07pm Taken from a journal.
If you do not understand the Earth, it will not let you survive no matter how many man-made tools you have.

Written 10-7-09 @ 9:59pm Taken from a journal.
Don't stain your soul with hatred for another human being.

After you break a heart, it will never mend back to the same form that it once was. Ergo, it will never feel the same way. (Sent via txt)

My mind has always had a lot to say when my mouth didnt. But lately, my mouth has been keeping up and has even run amuck. (Sent tia txt)