Thursday, May 27, 2010

Wildly Away

When I slam onto this pedal and the road spills out in front. Don't grab on for dear life. Don't let your head lead you into strife. Just hold my hand, let the mix tape soothe your soul, and let's spend life speeding away. We'll spin in and out of chaos, forever getting lost. Living a thousand fantasies combined. Finally smiling in this new life of crime. You will never understand what we left behind. Years of theft and hate and construction zones. Stealing our happiness away is the crime of their lives. We couldn't live and stay alive. To escape is the only way to survive. When I take to the streets and pull you behind. Follow me like you've gone blind. We'll leave the miles and miles and miles behind. That tape will lead us into the next phase of our lives. Speeding away into a fate full of crime. I only hope this fantasy is not only mine.

Smiling Dreams

We danced in clear puddles that reflected our matching yellow boots perfectly. Water splashed and fell from the skyy. Soaked in all directions, we had no choice but to laugh as we fell into each other. Drip by drip it streamed from our hair, our clothes, our smiles. We walked hand in hand pass the streams of umbrellas and unhappy faces. Jealous of our wet and careless joy the crowd of dry, gray faces parted as we passed through. Your eyes reflecting mine. The small rain shower had become divine.

Friday, May 21, 2010

Look Closer.

I view the world in rows and rows of frames. Each crack shows a tiny scene coiled in on itself. Strung together like beads on a necklace they create a wondrous view. Overall the picture is perfect. From a ways off everything is grand. But step closer and open your eyes. You see the individual brush strokes, jagged and unmatched. You see the individual tears, trying to be cloaked. You see the wealth of happiness, crushed and broken.

The lack of altruism feeds our hurried footsteps. We never realize we're in such a mess. Plastic smiles are good for a glance as we lead our hurried lives in our own trance. and I really wish that someday someone will just rest their aching minds and fucking STOP. Take a breath and look the world in its eyes. Look at the once grand light, now fading, the brilliant sparkle, now dim.

We are all broken. Each and every one of us. In ways only we can know. The holes in our lives are to large. Damaged goods more numerous than the stars. But look at us. Our happy, perfect world. Still turning. Still living.

And that's the point isn't it? Frost says life goes on. It does, it will. Our fate is sealed. So let us not be morose. Fill these holes and fix your rips. Come to grips with reality. Look closer at each frame. Uncoil the mystry and open your eyes to the problems facing us. And make them better. Sitting idly in idealistic ignorance only dooms you to a false fate. Dig deep and make our tiny cracks whole once more.

It is impossible to be irreparably broken. You just have to let hope soak in. I'll help. I promise. You have to let me. In the end we will all be happy.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

idealistic identities

in a perfect world, stickers always peel off clean, the weather man is always right, bags of chips are full, the most wrinkled dollars are accepted by any machine, markers dont bleed through the page, there is always milk for cereal, the other sock never goes missing, the perforate page tears out clean every time, the pencil lead never breaks while sharpening, all of the popcorn kernals pop, people respond to texts immediatly, someone always has a pen. in a perfect world lonliness is something we only read of in books.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Here it is... i guess.

how can i restrain this feeling that is such a pain, oh how can i restrain from living this world with nothing to say, what i see has caught me outraged, seething with inner angst, just trying to get through the day, it's all i can do to stay awake, to keep from falling off this bank, into the abyss of darkness, which in fact i helped create. yet this is the world, so have faith.

i rarely post without editing or thinking. this was typed in a rush and in "angst"

i work and work and sleep and sleep and through it all i cannot help but think, of you... of you... of you...