there are so many things wrong with the world and i am one of them. my mere existence poses a threat to those who fail to understand how attachments bring an intense amount of sorrow in our lives. solitude is generally placed into a category where shit, depression, and toddler diarrhea remain constant. many perceive those who choose life removed from the rest as a tyrant. mentally obtrusive. challenged in some way because they cannot conform to the norm. fascinating because i

there is a level of sophistication. i realized that i had this draft saved for no particular reason. i read it through twice. well, i suppose tonight warrants an endless rant with really no solid conclusion. cheers. i am a vehicle for transition. energy is translucent. it is not solid. without any physical material. in essence, it does not have an identity. i believe that my energy is a vehicle for spiritual development, not just for me, but for many that offer invitation. we

it seems like proving yourself is the only vice we have as human beings to immerse ourselves into a fucked up society. the wall is beginning to develop a fold cracking into multiple veins laced with porcelain among other odd constructional facets. if i press my right index finger two centimeters westward, the entire foundation in crushed. which then brings one to this cycle of gathering your belongings and that pride hushed in between the sofa covers. it gets frustrating. you

here's an occasional marker placed when i witness a soulful interaction. this allows me to come back to that moment at any point. reflection is optional. these soulful intonations vary in intensity. the one i reflect on today is probably a 6.53. a man sits next to me. we consider ourselves to be good friends. perhaps not the ones who feed each other secrets rather the kind to flash a palm hello. tonight, he is compelled to tell me something that not many people know. a night

we rely on pure, instinctual hums these days. the stars align right before us and motivation to connect the dots enter a routine. a routine that has sat under dust, piles of shit continually layered much like a lemon meringue pie. it's not really pie, just hollow foam that has no place. no foundation if it wasn't for that damn graham cracker crust. this is your routine. it sits alone until someone puts a topping on it. boysenberry, pumpkin, pecans, chicken... to each their ow

i am bankrupt, emotionally and spiritually. i dig my fingers into a wallet only to find holes in this plan. it appears to me that i am working to live and i live to work. money disables my potential. the thought of this is poison. why can't we live in a world where good merit and positive thoughts pay for everything? oh shit, i forgot about corruption, power, and wealth. it will be lifetimes until we come back around. i hope we do someday. it's a boomerang proposal upon my en

war is ridiculous. so ridiculous that when rewritten backwards, it reads 'raw.' wounds are incredibly raw after you realize how much emotion fucks things up. some days are good. some days not so good. watching movies certainly doesn't make things easier. not having every channel readily available to you was sign. now that you've paid your bill and upgraded, the cable company decided to up your viewing options. so after a long day at work, you sit and drown yourself in fiction

it's an awkward fusion before me at this moment in time. a dichotomy occurring between two individuals of which cannot be condensed into a simple metaphor. i, therefore, attempt to consider both perspectives and arrive at a conclusion. where is one to place themselves when energies are catapulting in alternating directions? an individual meets another and the journey of understanding the differences begin. days turn into months and months then halt into slow motion within a m

my oh my. have i managed to land a substantial mind fuck this evening. energy at the moment is equivalent to decades at sea. humans require an incredible amount of attention. by this i lend understanding toward their inability to recognize the simplest notions. well, certainly i feel as if these are minuscule bits of obvious traits to have for survival. mind. body. and soul. perhaps i am so in tune with this aspect of my existence and this just may be the root to my demise. i

accountability is a rather difficult position to adapt into one’s lifestyle. many seem to think they have it down, but i can counter argue from a multitude of angles. you change the locks. give a selected few the combo. then of course they have a cunning approach of not only changing the four-digit token, but also use it to further weaken an already broken heart. they take the 5’s, 6’s, 7’s, 4’s and boomerang it in your direction. you can dodge until those bones begin to cont

everything hurts. it's amazing what pain can do to you. it takes over every piece of your existence. some points you feel numb. others you feel too much. i keep replaying the scene where this person sits in their car looking out through a dirty windshield. they've just embarked on the most catastrophic experience by means of heart and soul. they remain at this road for an hour. parked. lost. hurt. no communication. their phone now under the seat. tears stream down their face

you want to make an impression, a good impression if you can. people are telling you things and it's beginning to take hold of your reasoning. why? perhaps because what they are saying has complete relevance to how your feeling. it's shocking when you realize that people take notice to things around you in their own unique perspective. simple. it's always so simple when you break it down to the rudimentary elements. you're not content to where you are due to the very fact th

you think it's all gonna work its way out. somewhere in the distant future there should be some glimmer of retribution. i'm getting sick out this constant cycle of disappointments; i told an acquaintance the other day that my life is synonymous to a baking session with a sumo wrestler. i ask him for sugar and he gives me salt. i want a spatula and he hands me a knife. i reach for parchment paper and he slides the aluminum foil over a few centimeters toward me. i express my fr

i invented rhythm. surely i'm not asserting that i found this magnificent audible revelation overnight, but i am claiming that somewhere in a past life i had to have been a part of a soundful discovery. lately i have been walking to destinations. planting the soles of my feet into the cellular ground establishing a unique sense of photosynthesis. my fingerprints vibrate and nerve signals rupture at an electrifying rendition. at points i'm so involved with the music that i'm

i spoke to a man at the laundry mat this afternoon. the conversation began decent enough to keep me interested. he asked about my career. i responded. he asked about my biggest goal in life. i responded. and then he inquired about my cup size, at which point i accidentally spilled a cup of detergent on his shoes. he rolled his eyes and walked away. he told me to keep dreaming as he walked away. magnificently nonchalant and unadulterated. his shoes scraped his heels on the til