Maggie's Farm

I meant every word. Too bad we were too doped up on a world meant to fuck us up. Sometimes I wish things could have been different, but I still know that somethings aren't meant to be. I miss you, and I miss the good times. I don't miss the hatred in your eyes though, you can keep that. If ever we run into each other, I don't know you and hope that you do the same. Last thing either of us needs is to know one another. Good-riddance.

Momentary Lapse of Reason

Do you have to be happy to write something about happiness? As a writer I should be able to, but without it in my life I am unable to conjure exactly what it is. Some things come easy, because you see it in movies and read about it in the newspapers and books. Something like happiness though, it is quite hard to discern just what is true happiness for the self, unless it's in front of your face. Happiness has become one of the hardest things to find, not because of lack of trying, but rather indignant behaviors that devour the self disallowing the continuance of happiness found, drowning it out without giving it a fair chance. This is what I'm afraid of. That the cycle will continue, though knowing about these sort of things should help me become more aware of what I'm doing and how to not be so hard on myself as well as others. Happiness. How am I supposed to write about it if all I keep learning about is brokenhearted truths.

It's just the way life is I guess.

Kindred Spirits

There is little else left but friendship
be it that of individuals once thought lost,
to the ones who have all but forgotten.
Keeping it simple helps a great deal,
not letting life get too complicated
will make all the difference one day.
It's like a standing body of water
once you dam the whole thing to hell
it will rot and fester
without being able to flow freely.

As the years go by nothing much seems to change
but the expressions on the faces of my generation.
A certain pull from gravity which brings down
even the brightest and widest of smiles
into a visible frown, those poor clowns.
These years which lay so heavy on our faces
only bring sorrow in the knowledge
that we'll never see them again.
Inside we are jealous of our younger counterparts
because it is their tomorrow we want so bad.

So bad we'll do what it takes to make sure they remember us.
Dead flesh still clinging to bone with nothing left
except for a name tag poorly attached to our emotions,
the only raw thing which we've kept downplaying for so long.
It is they who will ultimately destroy us
if we aren't knowledgeable of their humble begin.
If we are fools and don't heath to the demands
of a foolish heart every once in a while.
Because to live is to love is to live to love,
or something like that.

Kindred spirits will always say hello to one another
even when the two people don't know who the other is,
there are some things only time will tell.
Let the waters flow freely and carve the terrain
it is better to bring on change that to stifle the self.

Necrosis

it is your ultra violence

your indecision

your mental atrophy

that has left the world

standing still

only in your head

we've all moved on

lived and loved

the world within you

unstirred and hollow

you move away

but there is no sorrow

deeper than whats in your bags

deep

stowed away

Writers block.



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Ssica's year

It was just a year ago, that she walked into my life and left just as easily. Ssica, how I wonder if your real name is Jessica, and if you remember me as I remember you. Chances are no, and no. But whatever, it still doesn't change the fact that I had an amazing experience, and learned a very real life lesson because of you.

I thank you, wherever you may be.

Maybe one day, we will bump into each other. We may not know who the other is, but something tells me that somewhere deep inside we'll recognize something about one another, and we'll end up talking. One never knows, and hope although empty, is all one can have in such situations. Life may have been very different with you around. I could have not met Sour Girl, or K, and life would have been swell. I could have lived a happier life without knowing either of them, not so much K, but most def Sour Girl. I can honestly say that I've also learned a lot through her, most definitely not as much from as through, and for that I'm thankful.

This last year has been a roller coaster, something that was so simple and quick turned into a monster of catastrophic proportions, best part is dealing with it mostly alone. Mom's is there, but she's not. The one shoulder I looked to lean on, turned out to be a heroin whore, more than just once too. Man, what a weird year. Either way, I'm glad it all went down, I really am. Because I know.

I still have that glass bead, and I carry it everywhere with me. I don't know why, it's kind of silly, I know... but it's something I look at every once in a while and I know that no matter what, life will always hold little surprises for you. I'll see you when I see you, in real life, or in my dreams. Stay beautiful.

who

I will always love you, stranger.