Can you see what I see?

"Can you see what I see?

No I don’t think you can

I see images of nothing

and I attempt to make that

nothingness mean something

As hard as I try there is

still nothing and that nothing

is meaningless

I am somewhere else now, outside

I am surrounded by people and

the sky. I see the people and the

blueness of the sky

but still nothing has changed

everything remains the same

I am still alone"

This is myself...
This is my life, and although it may not be much, it is mine; and currently no one elses.

Why is it that this life I live is not suited to our society, that my mind is telling my soul to change? We are built on connectivity in the congregation, and in my case it seems that a difference has developed, and that society thinks, as a mass- this difference makes my existance worthless.
Must no one see light as I see light? Beauty in what I see as beautiful? Must everyone be connected only to that which says 'be this way because you are told it is what you should be'-- rather than to connect with the powerful but fluid natural instinct within connection in it's entirity, which appears to me as a much simpler and far more enjoyable art than anything this precise yet innacurate heirarchy of powerful opinions demands from me as a part of their system...

To touch... It seems something is important, and very sacred within this act. To simply be in a silent moment of frozen thought and time, where our most powerful instinct is initiated through a fingertip to anothers fingertip... Yet noone will express it's joys, or truly delve into what makes it so perfect in it's simplicity, without having this confusing, challenging and timewasting cavalry of games our mind initiates due to our insecurities and negative influence...
It is not interaction that I crave, solitairy is a joy for me; I can and usually prefer to work on things in my own time, in my own way... It is in how another persons skin feels, electrifying my every nerve as it becomes a force with my own. Everything is vibration, is energy, and it is during this exercise that I know who I am most, why I am here... Why we are all here.

I am not speaking of sex, though it holds a realm of worth all in it's own. It too has been cheapened by the very nature of this world that I am so forcefully trying to change, which in turn is having more success of changing me; more so, creating a stronger insecurity about this life of mine and it's worth in the long run, if this is all I have to face in the future. Avoiding this truth in life is difficult, and so because of this, because of my search to find appreciation for that which I appreciate most in others... I look in the eyes of this strange world as someone who is easy, someone whose dating history looks worse than chernobyls nuclear contamination. People see my behaviour as such, toxic, bad for the soul... When it is my soul that drives me in this continuously unsatisfying search.

It is in the complete opposite of this, I am not easy. And that is my problem. That I am not the same, and are finding it fruitless and unfulfilling in pretending that I am, or trying to be... I seem to be alot more difficult than people first believe. And in my good looks and sociable nature, people get the wrong idea about intent, and like a seed that gets no water, like a fire that is fed no wood- it dies before it can truly benefit anyone or anything.

... The fact that I appear to be lacking in the successes that others cling too for validation; is something that to me, when alone, is indifferent. I have dreams and aspirations, I am human afterall... but by no account are they the drive in which I continue to exist... And it would stay that way too- if I was not so cruely reminded of this state as a failure by the very people I seek connection with. The traditionalist view. The perfect match, the one, the partner... It is no longer decerned by what resides in instinctual evidence, but the amount of things a person is currently undertaking, and triumphing over, their assets, what they can bring to the table; a burden or inconvenience? Or a self containing, sufficient unit that puts back into the system?

Once again, if this was seen in a realm that I could understand, it wouldn't bother me either. I am forced to question where I currently sit, because the heart that I yearn to disect will not let me in because of this very judgement that appears to be evident in the rest of the world. Like I said before- that people see my intent and misunderstand it, but refuse to allow the heavily reinforced walls around them down for long enough for me even to show or explain what the reason behind the nature is...

People reject what they don't understand, and I am so heavily misunderstood. It denies me, because it does not see past the present yet temporary circumstance that hangs so heavily over my life, and now over my heart.
No job. No car. No immediate routine that supposedly gives me purpose. To dream big in a time whilst acheiving little is simply not enough. A lack in attention to detail, for I acheive much within myself without having these other complications at present... But people only see what they can understand and process, and apparently my heart is incredibly hard to swallow.
This is what I am currently doing with my nine to five hours... but it doesn't necessarily decern who I am as truth or fiction.

As a fiction: I know who I am.
As a truth: I know who I don't want to be.

I dream of a day where everyone speaks their mind before their mind has had the chance to disconnect from what they had originally felt at first glance, to generate the thought in the first place... And cries for a time where things were less complicated due to this fact... Without chaos there is no appreciation of the peaceful times, and what is more chaotic than impulsiveness to this version of mankind? I yearn for the revelation of my generation.. The heart is like a fire... Feed it nothing, and it will not burn.

Life flows through the rebirth, and without stimulating heat- we do not grow. so rise above the corpses my fickle friend and plant your seed in the fernace of your heart...

Time, is present. A constantly moving construct of the universe, that takes our life force from us no matter what situation we live in. Time is precious, and although it is to me right now one of the most dependable structures I can count on, it is also the most temporary and unknown... So why do we waste such precious life on the civil tongued, everyday banter, this back and forth of mentally generated, carefully constructed insanity of simultaenious enjoyment and dismay? In the same way that a smoker believes a cigarette will help them somehow, make them feel better- people feel this routine is necessary in order to have a happy fulfilling relationship... When if you simply looked for the answers to the lower left, instead of in the mushy grey sponge that sits in the hollow shell above- things could be so much sweeter?

My point is this: Play the game of the 'inbetween time' with boys and girls or be doomed to lonliness forever?

I'd rather be a spinster for the rest of my life and know that my intentions and my tongue always ran parallel; and that because of this I know where I stand in my life with all things. To open to someone in honesty, and to hurt someone in the same truth at a different time is a price I pay, and a guilt I carry... To me it is a necessary sacrifice in order to find the only thing I know to be infinite in this realm of existance, the only force to exist in this life and the next... When something departs and continues the search, there was not oneness to begin with. This should not be looked on in anger or despair, but the simple truth of the fact. It takes two fingertips to touch and connect just as it takes two hearts, open to the same line of communication. It seems however, that most frequencies I've encountered have not been in a language I could understand.

To try and create love with the implemented calculation of the mind is a false and cruel intention; because love is something that cannot be calculated. I have spent a long time coming to this inevitable conclusion, and for that I apologize to the world, and to the people who have seen this pain as a mountain to overcome... Like I said, my only intention was to find love, not create misery.
The reason my past attempts have failed, was due to my own insecurities that drove me past what I instinctively knew at the very beginning of every interaction, and I have been a slave to this yearning, this search for a love as great as God to the point where I went against this instant feeling, to try as others do try, to play the game that I cannot win.

Oh yes, we're all innocent at heart, but the blight on mankind is that we think with our brains too much. Calculation, cuts off and pulls away at emotion... Trust your instincts...

...To connect you must trust you instincts, to have faith that those instincts are right...

To feel... And to be upfront and honest about it. To embrace the overwhelming, the giddy, the butterflies that hug and kiss your stomach. The moment finally embraces you, a timeslowing, altering millisecond that seems like an eternity, like the silence you feel in the deep breath before the plunge- what you feel is at your most raw energetic sense, free from all the constraints your mind has already begun to put in place as a defensive mechanism to steer from possible pain... It is no more natural than laughing instinctively when someone tells a funny joke, or smiling at someone who smiles at you... You don't wait three days, then ask them out for a casual coffee or afterwork drinks and then express your appreciation of that persons wit...

Life is instantanious! Life is instinctive.

This is the core of what makes me still consider myself human, yet ironically it is the huge pink elephant in the room of the world, and everyone is aware of it. Everyone is afraid of it... The most important thing you could possibly learn from this moment of indirect communication...
An educated decision is just that... Calculated, overthought, overworked, clinical, sterile, analytical... dead.

We lose too much of what we really are in working something as complex and unfathomable as love in our brains... To analyse until we find a way to make it what we want it to be... I have fallen prey to this, to over analyse, to deny the truth that lies under the superficial layers of our own distortion on reality, thoughts driven by what we think we want as truth, not truth in itself, because it conflicts with what our head wants; not what our heart says.
To some the heart can say it, and the mind refuses to hear, because it disbelieves in the truth of emotion. It sees unconventional irrationality, a giant spanner that if thrown into the works- could destroy everything that they believe in their minds is worth value. This insane drive to control all that we are as a logical reasoning, that such a foreign feeling is so alien that the natural response is rejection... A purpose is a purpose, and if it is yours truly, you will achieve this in life... To assume that all you think your life is amounting to could be risked on the simple exploration of a feeling is a tragedy...

I am an animal. Animals are instinctual, it is in our nature to go by what we feel, and our growing arrogance as a race has us recognising untrue emotions- thoughts rather than feelings, Ideals rather than opportunities.. We are not robots, yet we behave as such.

And I won't be ashamed of the honesty that I provide my existance by now living in my heart, which is a reality so many people run from. I am not every other woman or man that's given you reason to distrust what is still good and pure on this Earth- so why is it that when I feel this feeling, this purity amongst such a dull and uneventful existance, do the people in which I attempt this exercise project the pains delivered unto them by others, onto me? To run in fear and blame and doubt, rather than to simply refer and exist within what was felt the first time my fingers ran across your bare and naked flesh.

To bare your all. To stand comfortably naked, unafraid of vulnerability. The human race needs to stop looking at everyone in distrust, and start reopening to the unknown. Every new encounter we experience is unknown, and it takes a certain trust in this driving energy within us to reopen after pain. People need to stop being afraid of pain, it is an incredibly important part of life...

I used to judge new experiences on past ones, taking the experience of life and holding onto the negative, focussing and projecting the fear of failure onto others. I used to believe that the heartache I have felt from others was a just reason to distrust first, for them to prove their worth over time.
But you are different, as I am different. I am not the same as who ever she was that made you think twice before the wonderous embrace, just as you, whoever you are- will be unlike those that have taken all my heart has offered, and left it barron and raw due to selfish intent and dishonest communication. To exist accepting connection without intention, without affection. To fuck but not to feel.

So why do people do it? Cut themselves off from the possibilities of the new, due to the insecurities that the calculative brain involuntarily set in place from the experiences the past has left them with? Habit. As muscle has memory, so it would seem, does our behaviour. Our brains look at situations that appear to cause us grief or pain in life and associate that with negative, with the bad. So the next time a situation presents itself where the brain can calculate the possibility of a similar outcome- it will discourage, and deflect rather than reopen. It is in these behavioural disorders that we fail to understand that everything is a cycle, pain is a necessity and we will be exposed to it in ways more complex than we understand at this present time in this existance. It was not the journey you tried to walk along that was the cause of the pain, it was the company of whom you walked with.

Thus bringing me to the next step our brains seem to take; the influence of the outside stimulus that 'helps' us discover what we percieve in this state to be 'the one we're looking for'... And I apparently, despite my willingness, are not appropriate for that selection criteria, because I don't have enough things to busy myself with to distract and detatch from the fact that this materialistic although whilst intellectually stimulating existance will do nothing to find true, pure, bliss in love. For what could possibly be negative when encountering love?

The purest of positive energy. That which drives this universe, the only capability of conquering over all other emotive stimulus. It gives a will to live, yet we are helpless against it. To love, is to be with God; for God is pure energy, God is the purest of love. And that which exists in the divine white light of holy ascention is free of all negative stimulus, is free from the heavy darkening weight of the realms of destruction... Free from the tainted, imperfect world that man has brought upon himself...

So why does it seem that I am the only one willing to at this point in life look for that contentment in who I am and what I live for? Why is it that by this purpose that I have defined myself as an existing force in the universe- I am already rejected and denied by those whose hands I wish to touch, simply because of a predisposition in others than I am completely powerless to alter in anyway?

People don't understand- they see constriction and control where I see release and freedom... I am a soul looking for another in whose company I can enjoy and delight in that simple act of touch, of expressing the strongest impulsive emotion I know, yet have never truly known in the grand scheme of things.

To be allowed to express affection as it comes naturally, without having to wonder about the timing, the place, how long I've known them, to be forced to hold back for a moment in time to contemplate the fear within that comes with every possible action that could result in rejection... To allow the heart to move into the head- to compliment, to jest, to communicate from a means higher than simple communication. To transcend the barrier of seperate existances and join to form a single, powerful, collective unit of electric connectivity between every atom of what keeps me bound to this physical being.

To know what it truly feels like; to have the fingers of my spiritual essence entwine with that of another humans. To connect in a realm that is so fucking non existant from this one.
Finding this, with another that has the same intent, and equality and a power at once- the 'perfect one for me', as i dont doubt there are many that are 'the compatible enough one'... I refuse to allow myself to be involved with someone I know, is only partly this, or suitable enough for a happy existance... I do not want half of a relationship, half a connection, or a one sided connection resulting in a new way for me to rediscover that which I already know- how incredibly unique and rare a thought wave like this within me truly is...

I am resiliant and strong willed, I know it is within my grasp, this unbelievable euphoric existance. I have felt it my whole life, and know the divinity in this search. To form into the lotus, one must first grow upward through the muddy swamp, to arise and overcome the stresses and challenges that present themselves in the present to gain a grace and completeness in the future...
To arise, a budding flower, and to break through the water. To be graced with the infinity and magnetism of the Suns energy, warmth and light... And finally, after so much trial and tribulation, finally bloom into the true beautiful existance that I have awaited my whole life... It is my destiny, to one day bask within that light, that love.

I'm tired of being too afraid of saying what I feel. I have tried the controlling calculation of what my brain tells me will help me succeed with this purpose... I liked it better when I was being true to myself, even when I was still presented with failure in the past, at least I knew that it simply was not for me, not with them, not at that moment of time.

New age, new day, new chapter of life. A renewed faith in the mantra I have been faltering with my whole life, and I'll not allow myself to fall into any false ideals or existances with anyone until I know for sure in my heart of hearts- that there hands on my skin is like the wood for that fire, and from that heat the true potential of that power in connectivety will burst open the seed of my soul, and I will grow into that which I was put here to grow into...

Complete.

A forgotten story through the memory of smoke and haze.

A piece of writing I once started yet never decided to post, approximately a year old and from a very innocent time, the few naive steps I took in the weeks leading up to the fall of all falls, the beginning of the very near ending of my life as I knew it... This reminds me of the days when all that I became a slave too was still my friend, infact this retells the first puff, the first kiss, fuck, lusted thought and action. This was my one night stand with Methamphetamine, that soon thereafter turned into a very unhealthy and abusive relationship. Whilst this story speaks of the drug in a positive light, I urge you from the other side of that pipe to consider this infatuation as Satan himself. The purest of evil, the strongest temptation... To claim you, the devil will not adorn his true terrifying self; but will appear to you as the sexiest, most perfected slice of chocolate cheesecake you have ever laid eyes upon. He will come to you, pretending to be a Godly Angel with words of ambition and purpose, to bind you to a life with no purpose at all... Take it from me when I say, there is nothing positive or justified in Methamphetamine. It destroys human beings from the soul outward... By the time the addiction is visible on that poor victims face it's already too late- because by that point their very essence will be so badly corroded away that they will see everything beautiful and sacred in the world as a horrible curse on their life, the love they will feel for the only thing that can make them happy anymore will slowly but surely destroy their loves and passions for everything that ever once defined them as an individual. We need not fear the zombie apocalypse... For there is a vaste horde of living dead, walking down every alley way, living in every dodgey little derelict house, standing on every dirty street corner... One tract mind, no moral groundings or emotions to create rhyme or reason... To these people there is one thing and one thing only- Methamphetamine... And they will turn on those that love them, they will prey on the gullable and the weak. They will eat you alive if it will help them get high--- Please, if you read this and you have considered trying this drug, walk away... I was lucky to escape it's prison after only six months... Others are not so fortunate or resilient to the want for something so powerfully useless. I am blessed to have a family that stood through me trying to tear apart the relationship I had with them, and still pulled through when I needed them more than ever... And It is only now, even after such a small time of being so blind: that I have finally been able to admit to myself the struggle I faced and still face today with my addiction to Methamphetamine... That even for me: From the very first puff, I had a problem. "She was mad at him. It was not something she liked, not something she planned acheiving at these things; but she was a girl on a mission. Like the way most of these stories pan out, it all boils down to chance and she knew that better than anyone. A lost cause and an ugly investment. It was never going to go down well; but she'd taken worse before... Oh so she thought to herself that night, in a sea of both strangers and old faces. A day of many days, and a thought unlike many thoughts... She sat in the house surrounded by few of her oldest friends and told herself that this was just a small time, once off venture. Just a small taste, just a little lie to herself. What she didn't realise at this point, was that all eyes were on her. All watched from their judgementless seats, but they all watched... The flame to the glowing glass, that tiny puff of smoke rising like a blooming flower... And she breathed in... As much as she could, exhaled and well; went back for more. What kind of taste is this? What effect is this? The lack of real rush or va-voom took her by suprise... She didnt expect it to be calming. Plans for a quiet night turned into one of partying; such an old story... So snapping back to her reality, this chatty, insecure girl with not even a heart to break, walks through the door of a strangers house, and lets herself loose on the population of the party... After spending much time in the busy corridor of the main room, she saw a face that she had seen before, but could not put a name to it... He was tall, with blonde hair; long dreads, for what was left of them. The rest had been shaved off in a messy fashion. She smiled to herself as she examined the boy; and the smile grew. She liked what she saw, something about his face that caught her. He opened his mouth to speak, and that which she knew all to well flowed from his cherry like lips. She hesitated when her friend told her to show the boy her tattoo, he was an artist afterall... She pulled her shirt up and exposed the birds on her back. And felt daring. They stepped outside for some fresh air. A beautiful wash of pink and green lights stained the darkness in the contrast of the glowing fire that housed a circle of odds and ends, huddled together for security, for warmth. She was buzzing, and didn't need warmth at all. In fact, she was having a good time. Suprise. As she rolled herself smoke after smoke she finally asked the boy his name. It was strong, sensibly suited, he looked like a Dom. After speaking some more; he parted, and her friends immediately went in for the kill... 'You should hook in with him tonight' she said, all starry eyed. She didnt realise that she had been so obvious with her staring, but the game was up. Her friends now knew that she thought he was cute, and devulged to her that he was available, and very much her type. She frowned at first, because this was not her intention. Infact, she didn't even know if she would ask for his number... A moment in a room; a dexie and some familiar faces... Got any gum? She asked, after realising that she had a growing paranoia that she would bite down so hard she might shatter her teeth. He smiled at her, and she followed him outside. It was at first, confusing for the poor girl. Sitting outside by the fire, constantly staring at the door, wondering when she'd see that face again. Had he left? She decided that sitting down and being antisocial wasn't going to get her where she wanted. She went back inside, walked through the maze of drunken stupor, and came to a room. A big smiling boy, a much older friend than most, was waiting for her there. 'I've got a pip with your name on it' he exalted, passing her the glass contraption. She did not hesitate this time, and did not care for the other four or five people in the room... She did not care, until he walked into the room. It was then, in that moment, where she made her first move. She wriggled over to the middle of the heavily deformed bed, looking more like some obscure lounge than a place for sleeping. A few of the wooden supports of the frame had fractured in the middle, giving it a somewhat sunken look; that is, you may never get out of the giant chasm in the middle of the bed alive, if you were to fall in. She propped herself up, against the back of the frame, and allowed him to sit beside her. After some idle chat, she asked for his number. Her breath held silently for a moment, until he agreed that this was a good idea. She smiled. Her first message to him, it must be witty and intelligent... She had however just enduced a big beautiful cloud of pep; and didn't really understand at that point the idea of wit. So instead she wrote down the Antsypants song that had been stuck in her head for the better part of two weeks straight... ' 'I am a vampire and I've lost my fangs again'... Smooth talking girly. It was cute, she thought, here they were, these two delicious strangers, texting eachother when they were literally almost too close to not be touching... She suddenly became aware that they were, infact, touching; knees pressed together in the huddled puddle of people on the bed. It felt nice. There was something cute and innocent about that moment, so full of excitement and happiness, a mixture of the drug and the situation. The following hours from early morning to dusk were spent as a group of people, the last survivors, sitting outside around the fire. Smoke after smoke was spent in these hours simply talking to new found strangers, and turning them into possible friends. The stakes were high, she knew that whatever came of the evening would help her gain a new sense of self in the world; but perhaps that feeling was the drug too... Perhaps it was her own mind, playing its little overwhelming tricks again. She didn't know what was really happening, so she played it as cool as she could. A treck to the shops, they all picked up and moved off, the idea of an afternoon barbeque looked to be the reckoning of everyone's stomachs... As she walked with the masses, another girl who she had known well but not well enough, approached her from the back of the pack. 'So you met my friend last night... What did you think of him?' She asked. Was this a probing conversation? Had he asked her to find this information out? She didn't know, but answered as best she could: 'He seems like a really nice guy, I'll definately call him; a date or coffee would be nice' she replied, as cliche'd and boring as she sounded, it was the truth. She indulged with the girl, told her that he had expressed his interests... Was this too good to be true? The barbeque was a success, everyone was happy. After the last of the drinks had been drunk, the girl was asked by a few if she would join them back at there place for more drinks and movies... He would be there she knew, and saw it as an open invitation to get to know him better. She accepted. It was a joyful car ride back to the lovely fremantle home, and she was blown away by how similar it looked to her dream house. A small, quaint but beautiful slice of heaven close to the cultural goldmine of Perth. Beautiful, lucious fremantle. It made her heart sing. The two sat side by side infront of the television, interchanging between cigarette breaks and straight vodka and ice. She had never drunk vodka straight and enjoyed it, but there was something smooth and warm about it, contrasted heavily with the cool and slick of the ice. Sitting outside for hours, they spoke of many things... Mostly of art. Where had this boy come from? His ideas and passions were almost too good to be true, and she revelled in the idea that one day this fine specimen of the human race might ask her out. Overwhelming enjoyment was all she could fathom in those moments, in the quiet cold of night. Back inside, they continued to sit side by side. A hand, a few fingertips brushed against hers. Perfection. She tried to resist the temptation, but could not. Their fingers slipped through and folded over eachother. They were holding hands... A true physical connection had been given. An opportunity. Perhaps it really was just as simple as two people holding hands, she was sure that she was overreacting in what she felt, but everything always seems to be in the extreme for her. And it had been such a long time since she had felt such a positive, happy vibe from someone else, someone who appeared so similar in passion and enjoyment of life... That moment, of pure enjoyable innocence, is where she wishes she could have preserved the progress. For now, things are in a much more terrible light. A loss of control, full reckless abandon left her high n dry, in the same room but a million miles away mentally. She was a fool, blinded by a future she was so desperate to acheive and experience that she tried to fast track the slow, progressive development of what was going on in reality to where she saw it all in the future. No patience, total disregard for 'the rules'... She wasn't playing the game anymore, she was rewriting the game to suit her needs better... Which would have been fine if her needs corrolated at all with what was actually fathomable. To 'shoot herself in the foot.' She didn't know what that meant, until now. She had a good thing going, with a great guy... And what romance and magic she inspired in someone else that had inspired so much in her has completely fizzled into a wash of miscalculated mistakes and a waste of opportunity. Instead of saving her time, she now looks into the future realising that things are going to take so much longer to get too, if there is any shred of hope that she'll get there at all. What is precious in life, is enjoying the little moments. Appreciate the time you're in, because it's always greener in the future and the past; but really these are just simple constructs that don't exist. There is only the now. The now is whats important, and she needed to learn how to appreciate the now for nothing other than what it was... And in that was her biggest mistake. We often learn the most when we loose something we know is valuable to us... I was misfortunate enough to loose what I had before I had really even spent enough time trying to know what I had even was, let alone whether it was something I could act upon. Life deals heavy blows, but we always come back stronger. Take advantage of daily possibilities, keep your head screwed down tight... The last thing you wanna do is totally fuck something up because you let it get way too loose..." An interesting beginning to an interesting year... 2011 is definately making up for it :) Hope you liked it, and got the message.

My beloved friend

Swiftly falling through my thoughts, I look at myself projected onto my ceiling, looking down at me, on me...
Like some American Beauty dream.
Eyes constantly welled from the pain of my defeat- I scream inside, but my outside remains cold and numb, a cannabinoid haze i cannot escape from.
Fear for a fuck,
As I scape together my last few bucks for a packet of cheap cigarettes that taste like no regrets, nothing in life is relative with always reforming medicines for different things.

The last half turned up short, a movement we must abort, for the hearts that have been lost that were not repaid the cost of therapy, that they would need after trying to apply their cunted techniques that left them cut open,
Eyes blind to careless lies that they weren't owing,
But they were working so quick and so fast that nothing they did would stick or last.
To become unstuck, removed or reprimanded was all from the drugs that they commanded from the slums of this city...
But I don't pity what you don't pity.

So let us pay our last respects to those stupid kids in their stupid dress that lost everything by trying to prove they could fuck the system and keep enternal youth.
Hear the words and seek the truth.
Allow the proof to put them on the stand and demand their rights that they sacrificed the second they let the voices win, to set in suffering for the rest of their lives, rip their chances of children, husbands and wives...

The bleaker future is on the rise through a new generation, but it's okay because we're not worth the saving.
Freedoms sacrificed through political avarice,
fuck this life and your life in strife when any old power hungry cop can approach me and say: 'Stop right there, nice bag- whatchya got in there? See now kiddy I'm gonna take a look and write you up a ticket from my little fuck-off book, take your moeny and your good times cause your sacrifice says that this weed is mine...'

So take a bigger look at this picture and realise the fight that we took on has already been won by our enemies,
That circle us like starving wolves and drop us to our knees.
Like flies to the swatter, we have been caged and suck in a media controlled fodder, where what we need and what we want are just a few seconds away with 12 months interest, no more to repay!
- But you do pay, with added interest as the debt begins to slowly infest your minimum wage lifestyle,
Feeding you the ugly face of a 40 year old rapist, on the tv trying to sell me life insutance instead of saving for an educational degree...

To waste life on this shit is a fickle thing, but never forget the power you gain by questioning theser things.
They want us all to agree, these domesticated, placated zombies that continue generating power, when our viral race simply sucks away at everything that was ever sacred,
And I can't take it...

But don't worry my beloved friend we will not be suffering in the end, cause the darkest of horizons is moments away, and the fine line between life and death is as simple as you and I removing eachother's breath.

Eating out of Boxes

Eating out of boxes, and sleeping in others beds. Life seems to enshroud a mystery that I cannot detect. Nothing is substantial anymore, food has less flavour, and I left some things back in that Maylands house that I value... Like my heart for instance...
And then I think, in a moment of confusion: No.
My heart is not there, it is somewhere there in a future, somewhere else that I was looking to the future for. A potential to just be, and just be me.

Nothing works out. Everything in life is temporary... So why don't we all just charge ourselves everyday and spend our nights roaming the streets looking for as much fuck as we can; cause at the end of the day-- Those that use hearts loose, and those that ignore them win.

So fuck it. Fuck my feelings and fuck myself. It's all I have to do these days anyway, when everything in this room reminds of a time that I thought meant something. DELUDED.
Confused, and rambling. Like it makes any difference how I write these days, who on this Earth could possibly appreciate or understand anything that I write in such emotive, poetic and hopeless romantic tones... It'd be worth it if I gave a shit about worth anymore.

I have nothing and are noone.
I have lost my fangs again,
I am sad, and very lonely.
I cry and get very angry.

... And I have to retune my guitar.