Drag Along Burden

wake up from that deep slumber,
or shallow one, it doesn't matter.

clear it,
waste it,
the false assumptions,
all the miscalculations,
why do you preserve it?
once is never enough,
even with clarity,
its always a 'go ahead' with you.
creation manifestation.

its not that simple,
there is no expectation
in terms of understanding,
you are simple,
an easy going bloke.
we function with similarities,
but as always, the contradictions bonds.
how jagged edges come together.
i guess this is how it really is?
finally found the
missing piece of the wrong puzzle.

is the reason 'in hiding'w?
or simply 'asleep'a?
i doubt 'extinction'i,
or even 'towards that't.
if its 'fear'i,
its truly a 'disappointment'n,
should have 'reached' there by nowg.

Drag Along Burden

Sorrows are dressed in black,
when rejoice should replace them at death.
Comfort is seen in a mask,
with smiles as his companion.
Perception is stoned
by gleeful merry men.
Shallow framed pain with fear,
associating himself with happiness.
Laughter drowns mourning,
when 'should not' becomes 'should'.
Thoughts were beaten up
by the drunk cheer.
Anger sold revenge at half
of what he sold forgiveness for,
as he succumbed himself to despair,
leaded by misery who is unwilling.
Satisfaction cloaked foolishness,
concealed to escape understanding .
Hurt impersonated joy,
' you smile, they don't '.
Sincerity stood aside,
as greed stole the spotlight.
Kindness took the blame,
as pride kept on going.
Love and care held hands,
as the dominant beings spat in their faces.

mine to keep, mine to remember,
for sinning can't be stopped here,
only with constant prayer,
a sincere apology
with an actual conscience.
temptations linger on solid ground,
infestations happening because we allow it,
misusing freewill,
I for one.

cornetto

its tonight with eluded thoughts,
to leave behind a proper understanding,
to live without knowing why,
to accept without a struggle.

no longer 'just' fragmented,
but now just a fragment,
no more hoping,
but to see what the future holds.

for staying and not running,
for holding on and not giving up,
for trusting and believing,
for listening and opening up,
for unnecessary 'i'm sorry's
and for necessary ones
for understanding and accepting,
for honesty, with or without pain,
for non awkward silence,
for not burdening either way,
for the 'i wish' and 'i hope's
for being different and unique,
for being sincere and real,
for being forgiving and non judgemental,
for being an escapade from the ordinary,
for trying in many areas and ways,
for the voice and smile,
for the tears and laughter,
for realizations and waking,
for being the greatest ever,
to this, i give.

with that one voice asking,
'why are you staying?'.
why should i go anywhere else?
pain does not give scare here,
it only makes an indentation,
do we throw away great happiness
because of too much pain?
true pain is common,
true happiness is rare.
so to run is foolish.
3 strikes and you are out?
no,
here's one more,
words are cheap,
but the words are proven,
staying.

Hey, is that a smile?
Yeah, it is.
The greatest smile ever.

age old winter wall

bliss and mercy,
take a hand.

dark shine full of luster,
what does this human ignorance seek?
its thirst or yours to quench,
down goes the bitter taste of man.

abnormal sweetness is still sweet,
so why the shrug?
only a notion of sentiency,
but that's understanding enough.

dance bush, dance

bound to happen.
the whiplash.

who separates punishment
from coincidence?
so much of this left,
and yet the only thing necessary is
to accept 'cause life just goes on.
on and on and on...
always the same, always different...
where does acceptance end?
such an oddity
where we live in.
are all these necessary growth phases?
does it all really help?
how do we know?
cause of that supposed 'fuzzy' feeling?
do we do it for the greater amount of smiles
as compared to frowns, hidden or shown?
utilitarianism, yeah, another
fancy word to define what we try
to understand, endless futile attempts.
do we self acknowledge that what we learn
and go through is good for self development,
when really, we are just dressing up our
downfall, pampering ourselves with 'self
encouragement'.
what do we know?
easy, not much.
what do we think we know?
easier, everything, or at least in that direction.
yet, don't you just love humanity?
imperfections, inconsistency, denial, narcissism,
a never ending list of words made by man
to insult man.
through insults, we grow,
insults help, compliments confuses,
what a twisted little world we made,
so everything we make contradicts,
this post contradicts itself,
but contradictions makes space for
improvements that we aren't sure
are actually right.
so what is right?
when we die, are all these necessary?
ultimately, by then why do you care?
you escaped this world,
this spherical world that throws
us into circles with no ends.

1..2..3,4,5
once i saw a room light up
6..7..8,9,10
then it all turns black again.

berry in

with each closing,
a desire fade,
eventually it becomes an 'on off' thing,
but not at will.

when a remora leaves,
what does a shark feel?
disorganized? unchanged?
with such a sudden change
to something so routine,
the guess is odd comfort,
not great, just a short rest,
but the remora will return.

sing a simple love song,
and a pair starts to dance.

turkish delight

keys and ivory,
it sings a fine jingle,
as a maestro conducts,
the curtain falls,
the curtain calls,
and the ever changing
spotlight is unraveled,
peeling through the
sweet, sweet air,
and with midnight closing in,
with glitter in the eyes,
beholder with nothing,
folded comments
cluttered on the floor.

typicality,
wishful nonsense through
the cracks like running water.

mozaic model,
county fair with
its coloured snow,
like stepping on a rainbow.

pouched benevolence

crown the sparrow
with a crown of dominance.

sleeping to dream,
sleeping to a dream.
no disappointments
'till we wake up.
reality without any hint
of fantasy is not reality,
a drift of the mind, a slight
detour does wonders
for our sanity, don't you agree?

scissors spring

pitching the thought,
voice hungering a tone,
malicious over dwelling,
collision, fusion.

hazel hazel,
memento mori.

country warmth

as early as it may be,
its comforting to know
that it will not drag on,
same case, different case.
clock hands don't reach 13,
conventional ones don't, anyway.

desired deterioration.

aristocrat

already a piece
of forgotten memory,
can it disappear
any quicker?
its going, going.......gone
you can still feel the breeze
without it being visible to you,
and yet the wind through
your hair is unnoticed.

superficial questions,
is there any reason to know more?
apparently not,
interest is all about narcissism.

black is the absence of colour,
white is the presence of all colours,
its sad we can't
fit in either category.

second grade necessity,
convenience or priority?
hanging helper,
just waiting for the green light.

take a listen through the window,
it is such a simple act,
sun pushed aside,
the wait carries on.
in the absence of colour, words does its purpose, absorbing thoughts long embedded.

dispersed reconciliation

morning is like a summer's bird,
a pigeon on the fryer.

railway tracks and tunnel bats,
on a dreaded backdrop,
only from a cat's eye view,
but who bothers for such things?

imperfections differentiates,
differences are personal,
personalizing shows effort,
effort is time,
time heals,
healing needs love,
love is a blessing,
blessings show detail,
detail is beauty.

so why the constant struggle
for perfection?
when perfection fractures?
perfection is 'beauty'
because not everyone has it.
imperfections exist all over,
but that is our separation,
besides,
real perfection does not exist,
a red herring from true beauty.

from a distance you can see,
the worries that yesterday brought,
yet to solve all of yesterday's tomorrow's worries,
is like saying you will know tomorrow's troubles.

detailed cursory

sway as the master,
halting the alleviator.

an original piece,
and its many forged copies,
a copy of a copy,
how can it not be mistaken?
isn't it better to buy
a photostated version?
why risk reading something
you may not enjoy,
and pay an over the top
price for it?
Another may state that
its a joy to possess an original,
insisting that just the knowledge itself
that it is authentic can bring
unexplainable satisfaction.
But you just can't afford to purchase
more than one original piece.
You want to spend wisely,
cent to cent worth.

Scarlet skin,
golden print.
A cover not everyone can love,
its content interpreted differently,
every page scrutinized,
every page hated, loved
or uncared for.
written by an author
recognized on a global scale.
A must have by some,
a reject by others.
Uncertainty clouds,
so you buy a photostated version,
and read it through.

Captivated by each word,
how can you not be?
such flow, such expression,
the clarity of a diamond,
beginning to end.
'Definitely a must have,
why was there doubt?'
In that store you made your purchase,
Its title shone gold as its new owner
held it in front of him.
Reading the prologue
and only halfway through,
you shut your eyes,
mouth open wide,
and yawned.
With tear filled eyes,
you place the book aside,
'i'll read it another day,
i know the story anyway.'

dust covered and in a box,
pages past the prologue untouched,
not taken with him six feet under.
to be passed on to charity,
yellowing and fragile,
who else can appreciate its beauty,
inner text closed off from the light.

now just waiting for its turn
into the furnace it will burn.

pepper and sage

the pull of distance,
attractive as a monarch
breaking free,
emerges as a wanderer.

fences start up at 12 feet high,
extended lengthwise with
each high end development,
taken down when completed,
to allow for easier access,
as compared to climbing over.

like a vagrant who has
found refuge and safety,
to have found comfort
and a sense of belonging,
and to let it all go,
because everything is transient.
disallowed to possess,
a vagabond,
no more,
no less.

summer maintains,
fall clears,
winter heals and rests,
spring brings anew.
some lingering,
but slowly overshadowed.

over crescent

like men to money

its expected

held steadfast through
the night,
however contemplated
in every season and
bright weather.

ignorance and egoism,
the reluctant change,
for change looks so weak,
unlike steadfast decisions.

Nothing is permanent,
not even our 'right' answers,
why then do we make flawed laws?
trusting corruption and culture,
influenced by mere men who
do not understand any more?

word manipulation,
from an 'intellectual' point of view,
for a 'greater' good,
which changes to suit the time frame.
reliance on the superficial presentation
to control and take over,
fake belief because of fear of venturing,
or is it real because you don't possess your own view,
to cross a one way street and
get knocked down from the other side.

a simple repetition
does not define humanity,
does not define us
just because we are habitual beings.
a numbness we feel that is all so frequent,
yet, should we harden our hearts
over a common hurt?
but we are just human,
an excuse given so often
without actually thinking any further.
so why do we go back to those
who hurt us when its going to be
undoubtfully repeated?
who else can understand, take in,
accept, forgive, heal and soften the hardened
but our Father.
that was not a question,
it was a statement.

'destiny does not exist,
only choices.'

fruits in a basket

metal shavings on your omelet,
just 'cause the pepper shaker is empty.

light streams of rocky water
flows through paddy fields,
the hardy stalk glimmers gold,
and by hand it is bartered,
worth incomparable to wealth,
just to satisfy the simple desires
by sight, by smell.

when science and nature collides,
they create a spectacle that of
an oversized deadly mushroom.
and we just help ourselves to a bench
that has been well paid for,
goggles included, of course.

'its always sunny above the rain clouds,
you just better hope the moon isn't up then'

Nineteen

when is a fault not a fault?
when is the blame for a crack forgivable?
its seen as nothing wrong
when its lights are flashing right into your eyes.
so obvious,
why can't you see?
silence for the growth,
for the learning experience that
from the looks of it isn't coming.
it will hurt to know,
that the reason it drys up and gets
picked up by the wind,
is because of the line you chose,
of the immensely large circle.
yes, fault is not there
it seems that each step is a right one,
but to not bother about what each step looks like,
it kills the spirit,
weakens the sincerity,
burdens the heart.

isn't it obvious?
the word being used so frequently is 'obvious',
because there isn't another way to look at it.
when its repeated,
can you not sense the immense routine sigh,
premonition no more,
when its so predicted.
and yet, no blame
because wants and needs are different.
being contented, to hope for more when you want it,
it will just end with a dash to the heart.

who asks?
don't we all wish the others know what we want and just do it?
but we all know how horrendously futile that is,
some just don't understand the needs,
are no longer the wants.

hesitant, that is the outcome.
the fatigue sinks deep,
to bother when the reply is so dead,
so 'anything',
whether or not that be it,
its obvious whats expected,
nothing.

is it the priority? is it the placement?
or is it simply because the cut was too deep,
wound opened to be hurt again.
it is for no one to understand without explanation.

Is this the intention?
when you expect it, its going to come as it is.
when effort diminishes,
when expectations fall,
when the dealer becomes the 'object' of disappointment,
when drifting becomes fading,
when bother becomes pain,
when proving becomes hurt,
how can anything last?

or is it just misfortune?
is it just coincidence?
is it punishment?
we wonder won't we?
blame points its ugly fingers right
back at the heart,
'am i at fault?'
every inch you try to dust,
every speck a reason for failure.

lingering weakness,
what can we do with it but suppress?
cause human nature is the cure,
and human nature has expired.


nonchalant to the wonder

usual novelty

a simple glimpse of joy,
and pointless bitterness fills.

why do we put up with ourselves
repeating everything that hurts,
to say, its the end, and fall weak to comfort,
to crumble at the sight of solace.
we cover our pain with a cloud of denial
for what? to linger on a past that is past?
to pretend that the world will stop for your sake
while we are moving past you?
is that worth the trouble for a pinch?
reality shows you that you aren't in deep slumber,
or would you rather live in a world where pain
is just is word?
you want the hugs and kisses,
but not the pain and affliction?
where have you been living all your life?

'we choose which paths to take,
but we can't change the path we are on.'

eject, play back

with stares and glares,
a meaningless smile.

so undeserving,
is that why you possess it all?
with silver trays and red wood tables,
an overflowing goblet,
enraged ruby flame.

glass shattered,
clarity no more,
elaborate puzzle pieces,
an ageless process.

like an egg in water,
abandoned with care,
is how perception floats,
hopelessly outnumbered.

four walls,
and yet no ground to stand on,
grab for the ceiling,
cause gravity hates you.

'you can break the human spirit,
but that's as far as you can go,
and no, that isn't enough,
cause we have something stronger.'

better days

bed of ash,
murky lake.

is still air so hard to take in?
need Eastern winds blow? so directionless.
bring up the ashes and distribute it among the trees.
the roots will heal in time,
as the bark just darkens, let it be a shelter,
let the roots dig deep again to find water.

a primeval forest,
fires come and go,
centuries withstanding,
expanding and growing,
burnt bark sheds off,
to grow ring after ring.

sunlight through the mosaic,
such a welcoming sight,
filtered out with distance,
till no shadows can be observed.

life is like a shirt,
starts of so new, untainted ,colour intact.
then comes the occasional spills,
with every wash cycle, it cleans.
the tendency of that shirt getting that type of spill again lessens,
if spillage continues, it wont be worn outside as often anymore,
eventually the shirt gets worn out,
colour fades, threads come undone, an unsewed patch by age,
reduced to wiping stains, and then discarded.

'make me a happy ending,
the recipe is by trial and error,
to suit an individual's dainty taste,
so you better get started'

stranger

its funny,
how often do you have those close to heart in thought,
and then have that 'i'm not remembered, not bothered by them'
'i'm a short term comfort, a convenient friend'.
but aren't we all similar?
so won't we all think we aren't remembered by those who remember us most?
to think that you are one day here and the next day gone,
is to have absolutely no self worth,
you aren't thin air, even air is remembered.
expression determines,
but how often do we show it all, or even half of it?
how often do we show someone's importance in our life?
to let his face shine more through appreciation.
an empty 'thanks'?
what difference would that make us as compared to those who have no conscience?
its always a trial and error thing.
so you have no idea, just take a simple step,
how hard is it to get up once you fall,
especially if its done for someone so dearly held.
we ask when we say we wont,
and deny the whole package when the blame comes,
people wonder why everything is so fragile,
we contributed to each crack, so fix it.

done backstage,
to be viewed through curtains,
to listen to the applause given,
rose petals, satisfied expressions,
leave through the backdoor.

where can you not find a silver lining?

like dust in the wind...

nothing stays permanent in this world,
not even our sorrows...
embrace the bitterness,
isn't it just lovely?
cause its so hard to hold onto pain,
it fades off so soon,
when that lighter ignites,
all goes smoothly, all with smiles.

no one

works unpublished are what you treasure the most,
make public your insecurities, your pains and hurt,
you become a target to yourself.
anger at another unleashed,
a safe zone of a screen,
real mature.
walk along that river of ice,
you ignore whats below,
you just let that catch get away.

Déjà vécu

the cycle needs recycling,
take the extra shards of broken glass out,
fill it with papers and tin cans,
empty plastic bottles are of no worth,
keep adding unnecessarily and see
the unfinished product.
i know, you know, we all know.
fractured, torn and broken,
its like committing suicide,
and its amazing what broken glass can do to a person,
or at least make obvious.

but people still favor the recycled,
useful or not.

i say, throw away the newly made rubbish.

crushed nuts

when the house was left in shambles,
were we to take a broom to sweep away the debris?
were we to call for hired help?
but only we knew each corner of the house...

for every tear a lesson learned,
for every bit of nonsense a lesson unlearned.

our habits, our trademarks.
why are we marked for them?
a large, bright red bulls eye,
shall i paint one on you?

just cause the water is flowing downstream,
does not mean the fishes are not swimming upstream.

every little bit scrutinized,
but hey, its just human,
so i will just balance that out by sleeping,
you'll still be awake when i wake up anyway.

the penny thinks why is it on the street and not in some guy's wallet,
the wallet thinks, pennies smell.

where did all the hollow watermelons come from?
should have ordered the apples.

thanks for the toast

are the words directional?
is there a rule book?

have you seen the moon at 12 p.m.?
i know i have.

a hammer through technology,
is but a rock, a rope, and a stick.

crayon dressing,
pencil tracing.

its like being addicted to water,
but its so largely scarce.

i am sorry if my blessings annoy you,
do you want to share?

wake up

don't you see?
its all happening,
everything you thought would happen,
only before anything happened. its not understood

should have known,
a reason was not required, so this is how it is
just sit back and say, pain comforts
'hey, that's life'

trust in everything to turn for the worst,
you really can't look at things from a different angle, when its been betrayed
its not easy cause you know what hoping does,
already experienced.

you lie down to think of the worst, wasted effort
cause happiness comes from getting
whatever that is better than that thought,
and so the lowliest gift sparks fire. why isn't anything being done?

never satisfied, never receiving,
living that way, you live with disappointments,
where anyone who enters, unbelievable
stays as a predictable disappointment.

fearing the rope that binds,
o how strong it seems to be able to hold anything, why can't it stay?
yet time comes and it rots away,
you naive gullible human. you were different

already seen the mess,
still you get into in, please
knowing how the outcome will be,
yet you do it all.

don't you see its all an individual work?
no one is helping you, its futile work, need it be this way?
when you bring it up, temporary sympathy,
o a sudden desire to be apart of your life.

you can only relate with weakness, but its wanted
when its over, supposed conscience paid off,
you are left back in the dark,
only to try once more. dawn is coming soon

give it up,
its obvious, why is it different?
pointless,
as it should not have been.

bias coin

blinded hypocrite,
for hypocrites surround you,
the joy is from 'blamelessness',
when can the hole be buried?

can all this not be general,
must this be thought of as directed?
when has everything been about one thing?
so broad,
it keeps growing and experiencing,
the mind won't stop talking,
let it rant away,
who are we to stop it?

happenings

what can be done but store more inside...
when everything has been released,
something else builds up,
such a never ending process,
exhaustion but yet necessary,
what can be done but just learn to control,
learn to stopper somethings,
to wear shades during the night,
pointless effort when the sun is going to rise,
it all seem so pointless,
such a sad emotion to face,
knowing life is built up on more,
or is that itself untrue?
its such a small role,
is it not?
when it is scarred with human perception,
it looks weak and now defiled,
its just messed up with everything,
now looked upon as a burden.

with the confusion,
comes the peace i have been searching for.
with the blame,
comes the acceptance i have been asking for.
with being pressured,
comes the control of different emotions.
with being misunderstood,
comes the understanding of situations.
with all the everything,
comes getting everything.

an odd sense of having no idea,
of much uncertainty and yet,
i like it.


slkv,
wvhriv,
bvzim.

Stop

placing fear into others,
wait till the crack deepens,
let me try to mend it,
before that sledgehammer comes any closer.

please don't let that happen,
don't test the patience...
i don't want to experience it,
nor others.


deep breaths,
blood pressure.

stare back

perfection?
you think so?
what are you trying to show?
the amount of nonsense you keep bringing up.
you never learn, repeated so many times you never learn,
its plain common sense,
a simple betray of trust,
your hypocritical action speaks,
you show its all possible,
promises just pass your mind like its nothing,
you expect us to keep ours?
we do it to maintain what was created,
you look at it like its an attraction point,
do you still lack that worthless attention?
you won't ever get it,
cause you don't want to,
denial is your speciality,
fool yourself for thats the best way for you now.

its not

a mirror.

o yes, the typical scene,
you see yourself,
mirroring your hand gestures.

his hands raised,
as yours follows,
observing both hands falling.

'i don't need an image,
i am that image.'

you pick up the broken shards of glass,
to have twenty blood smeared smiles,
directing to the same thing.

what are you then?
the image of an image
made by images?

do you care?
do we care?
just live

how its desired...

sorry...
i am so so so sorry...
i can't return,
what was shown...
i can't express,
how it shouldn't be expressed...
that evening mood,
just breaks that concrete wall...
everyday...
every time...
the hurt is nothing cause it isn't worth the hurt...
blank pain...
i am so sorry...
goodnight


it's beyond me,
or at least,
i want it to be.

plausible

where has it gone?
its....stuck.....
i know its there....
what have you done.....
why are you doing it again....
is it real this time? if it is,
stay...

getting better

can you blame me?
it happened, the whole cycle...,
all over again...
but its so different,
just like the smell of freshly baked pastry,
or that gentle touch of morning light through opened windows.
limitation is pointless, when it isn't wanted to begin with.
a road block placed simply because it can be done.
to stop something so it can continue.
its so messed up, but thats when you get the best out of it.
who in their right mind thought they can make simple what already was.
it only began to seem difficult when envy was added.
simple to simple, you complicated something you tried to simplify,
yet you deny cause you don't want to give up either.
both brings out opposite emotions, yet it is such in unity.
so we leave it as it is, knowing but ignoring,
cause it just feels so good,
and cause it feels so right.
can you blame me?

repeat

hypocrite...
why? is it always that way?
its in your blood, right?
blaming your generation curse,
better than blaming the non existing conscience.

so frequently done,
so smoothly played out,
but so obvious to the eye.
who believes you but yourself?
what you see is pity and actual human conscience,
what you do not understand.
born without knowing... how do you live like that?
backbiter...
need i say more,
are you awake doing all this?
or is it just cause you love it?
distorted mentality,
your love for betrayal.
you hunger for the loyal.
so we commit,
you hit back.
and that makes you?
we notice,
you don't.
and that makes you?
we stop,
you repeat.
and that makes you...
...nothing
just one word,
and you tell a full length tale.
its not about you,
its not for you.
but you just love that illusion,
of being the center of everything.
you know its not,
but you broke that mental barrier,
what is becomes not.
popularity got to you? its just that same illusion.
and what we give,
its not compassion,
its responsibility,
but that fades when washed,
with your words.
that poison tongue.
so just wait,
time will tell,
time will reveal,
time will take.
your clock ticks, and ticks, and ticks, and....

useless

your common sense holds nothing,
just like that life of yours.

punching water

does it matter? no
what is it?
you expect us to keep taking it?
you think you have it all planned out?
if you can think that way, so can we.
this is what you call innocence
hit after hit,
keep throwing them,
i cant feel pain can i,
i keeps flowing on.
...
continue,
i wont attack you,
go deeper why dont you,
i've been harmless so far.
...i'm coming...
got you,
naive aren't you,
that charm won't save you now,
you are in rough waters.
...i'm here...
didn't notice i took a bit of land,
that you stood on,
each time you threw a punch,
your naive charm.
...you're here too...
water is getting rougher,
too busy drowning to bother,
that i wont cause your death,
its getting closer.
...its here as well...
head first into that big rock,
would have expected you,
to expect the expected,
before your head had split open,
and cause an unnecessary mess,
now i'm a bloody river.
...you're no longer here...
...but we still are...

to know

whats the point of knowing??
so what, right?
will that make it possible for you to do wonders?
then again, would you want to try to do wonders?

when you know, what's stopping you to not bother?
conscience? you lost that already.
try to deny that, go on.
you know everything, do you want that?
since you do, you know how to un-learn,
but you don't want to do you?
the knowledge you have, you want greed to take over.
you un-learn charity, you un-learn mercy,
that with the lost of conscience,
you feel free.
then what?
you can't do wrong cause you know its right.
you can't do right cause you know its wrong.
you aren't even in the middle cause that is wrong and right,
you know that can't be.
you search for an answer, but you know the answer,
you are forced to believe because its true.
you don't want to live anymore, but
you know what happens after death.
you dont want to die.
you have no where to run, to hide,
you are forced to live a life knowing its direction and purpose you want to change,
you are forced to accept what comes after death, never changing it,
never succeeding because knowing is not doing,
you then take away your mentality, your common sense,
you take away your sanity,
to escape the life you were meant to live, to face what awaits you after death,
there is no escape,
accept it.

stay

you look at me with those eyes,
pretend, go ahead.
I'll start pretending too,
just because... i cant stand you?
its just wrong not to? that surge of adrenaline?
i want to?
pretend to cry, pretend to fall,
go ahead.
useless
pretend to care, pretend to have compassion,
go ahead.
what compassion?
pretend cower, pretend to hide,
go ahead.
backstabber
pretend to cherish, pretend to love,
go ahead.
what are you?
pretend to pretend.
what are you trying to prove?
pretend to pretend.
once isn't enough?

thats all you are good at,
if you stop, what would happen?
this world will drown even further, thats what...
go on, just continue,
we will have somebody to blame for all this mess.
we will look like heroes to...
think of it as a noble action,
to clear your conscience with a negative one,
if you even have one...
let us stick you with needles,
throw some useless tests on you,
hurry up...
we just need an excuse,
come on, we are waiting.
goodbye

I don't

I don’t understand…

I want to… but it never works out that way…

What is this?

You want to know what other people are going through, but what would you do when you find out its all the same? Who can help who then? Who determines what is right when all thinks the same? Majority? Minority? Do you follow what makes you feel good? Do you know what actually makes you feel good to start with? You know the outcome will be the same, but you keep thinking whether it may change. You know it, you can guarantee it, but you keep thinking otherwise. What is right? The answer we set is from observation, from trying to make you feel better cause we can’t live up to a set expectation. You look at everything we feel is right, but you think again and again and again, its never the same. We ask so many questions when you know you won’t get answer, why ask? Does it make you feel better? Does asking help clear the guilt of a previous action when you know that there is no definite answer to prove you wrong? You think of complex questions to contradict answers that are not definite, does that make you feel better? You think we are idiots? You don’t think we know what you are thinking? We think just like you do, if not more. You ask nonsensical questions cause you are afraid aren’t you? Cause of your guilt you ask question to answers that you can not be proven. Cause you know you are wrong but do not want to change, you ask these question to fool yourself. We just don’t tell you cause we ask these questions ourselves. We are afraid to be called a hypocrite. So we let you go on, to keep fooling yourself. Cause we fear the outcome of the actions we think are right but may be otherwise. Because of uncertainty, we allow nonsense to continue.

........

'Leave....just go....why cant you just leave me alone....'

i don't understand....who does....every time... 'you can do it, just hold on, just a little more'.... just a little more.... what does that mean? 2 years? 3 years? 70 more year?? you wont know when 'just a little more' will be, do you? do you know when 'just a little more' will be for you? or are you just saying something that every misunderstood person is saying?repeating a supposedly 'motivating sentence'?thinking that, ooo, this sounds nice, sounds encouraging. so what if i don't know what it mean, it makes me sound intelligent, people WILL appreciate me for saying this. wait, do you even think about that? or you just use words without thinking?

you think words can make things better?after what we go through, you think the simple sounds that come from that defiled mouth of yours will change anything for the better? some nice enough to say 'thank you for those words of encouragement', can you see what is so obvious behind their eyes, the let down, the slow loss of respect? no, you go on and on. have you even thought for a second that those 'words of encouragement', can actually discourage? the nonsense that you speak of, immediately, people can see that you don't actually mean it. they see right through that cloth you put over yourself, see that person that 'care' so much, they lose hope in those who pretend. betrayed.... why do you bother to continue, words brings no value, don't you understand? it just brings a deterioration in whatever respect we have left for those around us, don't you understand? obviously not... i don't understand why i'm even writing this... you never get anything, you blind follower.

Damaged Mortificating

Inferior the one who is overlooked where the mighty stand shadowing the shadowed.

The canister broke as what was poured into just ate the wall,
spilled the inside, thrown behind, left alone,
evaporating with betrayal, consumed by anger,
let lose and spread, corrupting the corrupt, absorbed by the flesh,
death is merciful, the snide fall into nothingness,
on impact with an empty space, hard felt with hopelessness,
suicide is soft on the heart, as the soul cries in vain,
wasted is the blood of the unsure, unknown to the obvious,
confused with the simple, attacked with perception,
dressed with pain of the lame, immortalized onto a pedestal,
broken down by a butterfly, brought up by the fallen,
revived by the dead, history repeated to heal the hurt,
masked by the sanity of the norm, insanity striking the heart,
length cover the truth behind reality, as well as complexity,
straightforwardness unappreciated taken as an insult,
to the lie of an idiot's intelligence, scorns the norm,
eluding the eyes that detects nothing, cloaking the perverse,
illusion is weak as well as it is strong, impression hates,
cinnamon is bitter to the tongue, worst than rotting wood,
envy loves what envy loves, transparent is the way that is false,
when the truth is opaque to wall what is free,
escape is absurd, freedom chained, evil lifted up,
in its eyes glorified, in principle trampled.

Asking for answers is futile, in control the two faced, falsehood surrounds. Reality is perception that fazes.

of innocence

The violent habit of those thought innocent, an outbreak so great, so merciless.

You look at him, his jet black pupils staring back at you. His eyes act as windows into his soul. But it makes your own eyes unprotected from him if you did so. But you were not worried, your thought was you were completely safe from him, that he could not have hurt you. So you decided to look through the window, expecting to see something sweet, something pure.

Your eyes bulge, the veins in your eyes popping one by one as you opened the window as you were hit by some foul smell, the smell of rotting garbage and flesh. You tried to close the window but the smell was too strong and you backed away as the window opened itself. Though fear filled you, curiosity was stronger at that moment. With both eyes half opened, you were still hoping, really hoping, that it would still be something sweet, though deep down you already knew.

What was dreaded came as it did. One thing was clear through the window, death reigned supreme. Nothing, there was nothing that lived but worms squirming and moving in and out of large piles of rotting garbage all along an abandoned road. On the abandoned road were abandoned vehicles, some burning, some only being consumed my fire that came down from the red sky. As the blood red moon shone light as far as your eye could see, you saw something approaching you from afar traveling at an amazing speed. Before you noticed it had no form, it entered your eyes and it was its turn to explore.

Your soul saw it inside you, opening the window. You used to compare yourself, thinking what was inside you was worst than them. It jumped through the window and stopped to wonder how you managed to keep yourself this pure, though not completely, still better. Jealousy caused it to rage and fueled by envy it started to destroy what was inside. It grabbed hold of trees and ripped them apart, uprooting them in the process, polluted the rivers killing life and spread noxious gas all around. Almost immediate, your soul fell onto the floor and just squirmed. It burned inside as you were quickly changed, purity torn from you and stitched by corruption, hate, envy and death. Then just before any more damage could be done, it was sucked back out through the window.

His mother smiled at him as she handed him an ice-cream cone. Looking at me with a look of gratitude for looking after him, the mother lead the little child by the hand into their Proton Saga, the child already dirtied his shirt with his ice-cream. His mother placed him in the front seat of the car and gestured to him to wave back at me. He stared out of the window of the car and waved with a smile on his face. And as the car started to move, his smile grew, and by then you could feel no innocence in it, just an empty smile, lifeless and dead.

Children, why are they always thought to be innocent? We were not even born innocent and we expect that when we nurture them in such a corrupted environment they will still possess that small amount of innocence? We can only instill moral values and such things into them, they being taught by us, the corrupted. Innocence is not dependent on age. But up till now, age had managed to place a cloak over itself, covering the fact that innocence no longer exist within.