Old Friends

We used to be closer than this.
everything I thought I had,
success, friends, love.
maybe I even found religion.
but it was in the form of materialism:

cameras.
clothes.
boys.
me.

you're life is beautiful
but my dreams
the images were stolen
from the moments i wish
we experienced

nothing without you.

but we were young,
living on the dark side of
music and nature;
the seed of it all.

regardless,
all the material matter
means nothing without that feeling

would you be mine tonight?
I hope so because it's you I adore
even though men fall like dominos.

I can't see anything.

Hey.
Do you miss it?
Do you crave it?
I could be yours.

I am literally falling,
falling harder for this regular
human being
a person.



I am a bitch.

Agitation

Seeing everyday pass you by

Like watching a dramatic movie

Except its your real life.

Reality and the unconscious

Constantly fight each other,

Never giving into each other

For another block might

Merge them together 

Resulting in a restless,

And not to mention anxious,

Girl that will soon lose that 

Consciousness entirely

Yet I have hurt people,

Murdered their inner self;

I dig right into the patient

And grab what I need to

Then take everyone out

One by one 

Like a tornado or serial killer 

Never apologizing 

Always laughing

Having a good time

But you know it's all lies

I'm getting tired

But I don't care.

I can't sleep

For I'm afraid of missing things 

When I'm sleeping 

Which begins the thread of 

Agitation

Irritation is also exhausting. 

Throwing Things

My mind has stopped,

Has Seen the line

Underneath the ground

Pushing me towards the path

Without looking back

 

I can't grasp it

So i slip into coma

But I'm struggling 

With addiction 

Involving this mission,

The world and it's

Individual  Mechanics.

I never understood how i think

I don't understand why you do

What you do

Everyday

Man.

This is overwhelming.

I am just done thinking about it.

I'll toss that in the trash can,

just like your interest in recycling.

Elegance?

Understand, sympathize 

empathize with the

Reality before us

But I don't understand 

How your Elegance 

is like the whipped cream

On top of a truffle cake.

Slowly, lifting the fork,

You dive into the small pool 

Of different flavors

And your taste buds go insane

Wanting more

Like cocaine or music.

Though Neither if which you really enjoy

Carrying on with everyday activities

Entering houses

And petting animals

But then soon going to another

Grabbing a drink

Testing, testing 

One to three 

I can't hear you anymore

Oh sorry

My dog was barking

But I thought I had a cat

The allergies begin 

But it was all in self defense.

Are you sure you're not the one fucked up?

Oh typical, of course you are. 

Rainy Days

The rain drops fall on my skin.

Dripping slowly down my cheek

creating chill bumps down my spine.

As the sky soon begins to grow dark,

I look upward seeing infinite darkness

Regretting not wearing a raincoat

Or bring an umbrella.

On the other hand,

I enjoy listening to the rain.

Watching the clouds spray

the ground while each drop begins 

to Accumulate in the shape of a 

fresh petal

that fell off of a flower.

My body, feeling the cold,

Wet vibrations of the 

Dripping sound created by 

The pavement and rain.

Feeling warmth around my skin,

shocking vibrations of the

semantic affinity between

our two bodies tangled within

the back and a hand.

With each inhale,

I can taste the 

Nourishment that  

Satisfied the desire

to be accustomed to you

Please,

Familiarize yourself.

What the fuck is going on?

My Head is a Jungle

Hahha interesting. Similar, I think

Even though mine is when I was a freshmen

and she is a new emerging artist.

Rhye - The Fall

For People.

For people

Are you selfish 

Doesn't matter whatever is said 

I'm going all The way

Never going astray 

Because this game that is going

Hard just like the chess game

And the results of the world 

In the palm of your hand 

Selfless

Im giving everyday but

The doctor won't go away

And all I wonder is why

I'm feeling this dizziness

To the emotion of pettiness 

And the god damn marks

Given from the fact that the barks

From your mom isn't even going wrong

But you know in the end 

It will go down again 

But stop and just

Think

Look

Listen

And what happens in then again?

Please not the same thing again

I'm getting really tired

Goodnight once again

Shitty Cars

Judging eyes of the exhausted

Angry words spill out like 

An oil leak in a once working car

that seemed to have exploded into pieces 

but the fire truck never came to the rescue 

so the burning began like rays of red light escaping a cave 

to which no one else can return.

Things Wanted

I don't know

I just can't decide

But I know that I just

Want to be alone and 

Completely devour myself

In it

By my

Self

But it doesn't have to

Be expensive,

It isn't fancy.

I just want

I just want real food

I just want real people

Reality

God.

I want you 

Dreaming Difference

Until the sky turns blue,

The sidewalk will never be walked on

From the time that the glass broke

And shattered to pieces right in front

Of me

Uncertainty is the key

The reason to which you have chosen

The latter

Even if the latter was

Of not good theory 

But often generous and kind

As if a mother caring for her

Child

High grass and bark of

The tree wondering if it's actually

A dog

But residing to the mere fact that

In all its entirety 

You must release what is holding

You down so

Far to the ground

As though the hole

That was dug after observing the others 

Is now full by the water

Of the last flow,

The last cycle

Of endless wonder. 

If only the concept was grasped

By the hands of a curious rabbit

Plunging down into the rabbit hole

Just so that he could drift through

The only place he knew well,

The ground and all

It's uncertainty

Though this is all mere factual 

Thought process to which 

All uncertainty will be channeled 

Into a small stream of thread 

Through the hole to

Which is an abyss of time.

As the clock spins slow,

Passing through each fleeeting moment 

Forgetting about what's really good

For others instead of the Meloncholic 

Greetings of acquaintances 

Because its simply a procedure that

Is followed

Eventually,

Weariness begins to

Befall the cursed

And soon enough,

You're laying down next to that dog,

Thinking it was a tree

Inside a hole

In the 

Ground 

I'm so

There are no thoughts within the abyss of boringness along with nothingness inside my brain. I know I am constantly thinking, but.. I can never understand even what I am satiny I'm spitting words like a rap song that wouldn't even make it to the underground were the action and contributions to the world take place. I just can't handle it. All this work. I'm exhausted. I am done.

When something is finished,

It becomes unused and throw away

To exploit the past time used 

While not only comparing or vice years ,

But yourself precisely, 

You learn to understating he situations Around you.

I'm so 

Intimate Reality

The droplets of sweat

Accumulate as the sun

Reaches the sheets

Stained with the

Fragrance of

The moments

Still hovering over

The manipulation

And conversation

Among the affair 

That took place 

Within an instant as

If we didn't exist

And the world was our

Private island that 

Could never be bought 

Because we were so 

Accomplished

And not to mention

Arrogant 

With shared kisses

Between the legs

And the shaken

Pleasure that is 

Given for the mere 

Fact that one 

Is infatuated with 

The other

Or perhaps the moments

That are shared between 

The sheets gives

Way to the realities of the world

To which we are trying

To escape

On the contrary,

Your touch

Your perspective

Your mind

intertwined Between mine 

With no spaces in between

Legs crossed, fingers tangled,

Body glistening, curls gone astray

For those,

I would give you an

Intimate reality.

 

The Definition of Living: A Mitigated Perspective

I mean I can  understand 

The way you make excuses

For the uses of what you do 

Or take away from the fact that 

Life, in all its glorious failures,

Is nothing but an illusion to the

Fact that

You are living.

Period.

Those moments of tied up words,

Endless exhaustion,

Workaholic endeavors,

The strive to be successful and if even that,

The strive for perfection, 

Control. 

The moments when you say 

To hell with it all

But then automatically take back

What was taken and frankly

Mistaken by the mishaps and mistakes that don't turn into regrets but experiences that take away the reality of it all. 

The moments when the cloud 

Covers you as you're the flower yearning for water to gently touch the ground just so you can get a sip to survive a little longer than the usually trip of being high on the light of the sun

Within that minute of frustration and

Exhaustion of the fact that everything you have accomplished 

Until now is nothing but a mere coincidence of frantic opportunities taken at the risk that failure is not an option

Seconds pass and then you realize that everything you had is gone. 

The perfect job,

Fired

beautiful girlfriend,

Non existent 

One moment you're happy

The next you're down in the deepest pit of trash. 

Instantly, things change within the time that it takes you to blink and think of all the moments that you think might be reality but in the nature of this world and the after,

Nothing

And I mean nothing

Can compare to how I feel at this moment.

Embrace and make haste as the

Time that comes will never come again,

Or maybe it will,

With the back and forth motion of waves and human interactions

And the way trees sway when the wind caresses them. 

It's all these,

Put into one blinder

And is grounded until

There is no single grain of

Hope remaining 

Isn't that what life is about? 

It those moments of high intensity 

And the ecstasy that flows through 

Your veins as you embark on the path to the futuristic unknown with the vulnerability and knowledge of an old man. 

Yes.

It's that moment when you feel infinite.

That, my friend,

Is the definition of living. 

This Moment

This moment.

The moments of deciding 

Of waiting and learning

Studying

The low, middle

High 

Is all you can have in the

Many years we have known each other

Does it

Even matter how much money you own?

Yes. Of course.

Money. Fuck you.

The idea of money is

In fathomable and it doesn't matter 

Smart.

I knew it. 

You knew it.

Who knew?

The distinct smell

Of the illegal potion 

That seems to

Evaluate and accumulate 

The essence of the fact that

Human interaction 

That simple

Yet utterly

Complex 

Communication can cease to

Exist and then wait

Wait

Just wait 

Its as if fate has collapsed

And it's insane 

To see these individuals

On odd compulsive obsessions

And twitches of the

Life and the good flowers of music that follow

This comfortable embrace is needed to understand that the 

Touch you experience, that jolt of arrogance and intellectualism

Which,

If you ask me

Being full of your self

Being the best you can be

Is just the way of life.

Fuck you

Stop being cocky

Slow Destruction

How can a single

Yet delicate breath 

Sooth your inner

Beast?

How can a single

Yet gentle touch 

Create icicles like during 

Winter?

I don't understand you.

But I want to.

Fuck. 

You're destroying me.

Trends

Being with you is provocative

Your sly tongue, soft lips

Being young, do you think it will last?

I can't even look into the past

Of what was, what is

Girls play with each other

Boys do too, in a way

With their catty words an phrases

And the spaces in between

I believe the experiences I have lived

Are but moments of glory

With the apathy of it all

Teachers said I wouldn't make it

An they're right,

I haven't with my head held

High

With my friends, chasing cars

Speeding down the roads with

Those rello and cigars 

The smell of infinite abyss 

At that time, I thought It was bliss

Until that day came

When we all grew up on our own

Without each other to whisper the 

Secrets of the world 

In that small burnt room which contained our thoughts 

Through the times of adolescence

And incense of the lives

We have taken 

You know, they say that 30 is the new 20,

But I believe death is the new life. 

A Liars Prayer

God. 

I really am alone.

How is this possible?

Be patient and believe,

He says,

But, 

I don't know.

What am I supposed to believe:

That everything will be released within time?

Continuous bliss is irreplaceable?

Secret meetings are not about me?

But people change;

communication wont happen

But I need you to

Or else 

I might do something stupid

Like continue on living life

Being unconditionally passionate

Yet lying

About how this thing

Wasn't real just to 

Continue on and

Try to

Save

Yourself,

Your mind.

The Box

This feeling

Of an 

Adventurous 

Type 

Can turn

While and bright

However,

Since this is a love affair

And you know how the movies go,

They end in sadness 

Suddenly creating a shield

To hide the inner most

Sacred parts of

The mindless

Abyss

Trapping it into a box.

When you go into

A box

And 

Stay there in the fetal position

Preparing yourself from the worst

Then, you walk out of the box, explore a bit

And then go back in

I am a box 

I live In a box

My life is a box.

I'm trying to escape.

Help me.

Then suddenly,

I am insane.

Contemporary, Occasional Humanity

A new world is in order.

The kind of world where time stops,

Humans communicate through the pulse of a heart,

Souls emerge and bond with the thoughts of apathic happiness,

Minds combine and collaborate through the rough waves of each 

Fleeting meloncholic moment of this frantic deliverance.

It's a kind of world

Where people time travel through the past and future,

Experimenting and binding to the 

Past selves, past lives.

It's the precious moments with childhood imaginary friends,

Feeling accepted in adolescent coteries,

Experience heart ache at full strangulation.

Through these moments,

The kind when time stops

And the surroundings are visible yet in an opaque light,

The questions appear in the thoughts

Of the lonely nomadic adventurers

However, 

Eagerness has come involving the future.

The answer, to which was held, is ready to be released.

Both Death and life

Are the similar ideas

Of the conspiracies of the 

Thoughts that plaque the minds

Of the meek and mild,

The naive and controled,

And the mere fact that

Life,

With all its perks and clamities,

Is not a trifling matter 

But a pure trip of the drug that could never be fabricate by man 

Because man, 

In all its glorious advantages, accomplishments, creations, 

Is nothing but a mere mortal with typically deceitful intentions.

What I want,

What is need,

Is to reach that peak of existence to where I feel so infinite that

Actually,

I don't exist at all.

Maybe at that moment,

I will

Become a deity,

A god. 

But do gods, God, even exist?

Maybe, but i doubt that since if I was a god.. Everyone would question how i survive : 

You either believe 

Or you don't.

Possession, Appreciation

Love possession 

Love appreciation.

This control that was lost

Is not a mistake

Yet alone a regret

Of what is

Or was

Or not at all

As If it were

A dream

Never ending 

Slowly Turning

Like a Farris wheel at the fair

you never went to because you 

know it's not fun because going 

around in circles is not an excitement

that can last forever,

Even though a circle 
Does go on forever because
It's connected with each stroke of

The hand

And heart 

And mind

And you constantly

Consistently plead

Of that one moment of distraction

And destruction

Of what you used to be. 

The Robotics of the mind

Is Channeling everything

Into your own path.

Control in the veins that pulse

and flow the blood into your

heart

head

as if they were connected

and that's exactly it:

they are.

They are in a way that is

unfathomable and uncontrollable

So you just have to let go

and float down the deep river

that runs on the fact that

This,

Whatever this is,

Exists in a way that makes me 

not exist because that feeling

when shocked by its ecstasic

consciousness

makes you

nonexistent.

And yet not existing might

just be the feeling of this powerful

madness

that was searched for since the 

beginning of time. 

That in it self

Is what makes humans

React the way,

This way,

In the insanity of it all.

Then the question is

What is it?

Love.

Hate.

Fear.

Sadness.

Anxiety.

Happiness.

Content.

Bliss.

Bad luck.

Nonsense.

Exist.

 

The claustrophobia of if all

Unleashes its deadly 

Poison into the deep river

When suddenly 

You realize that 

Not only Do you believe it to be a dream..

But this dream,

Is your reality.

To live.

Man.

Power shit.

Like Kanye.

Now you see,

Insanity. 

I hate this.

I feel insane.

I don't have control of what I'm thinking anymore. 

And I hate it.

How can someone do this to me?

Fuck.

I need to get out. 

What? 

I am crazy. 

I am not sure, actually.

Maybe I am not crazy

I am just 

dead.