Passion

Take me by the hand,
And lead me towards my dreams.
So I can be lost in this life,
Where nothing is as it seems.

Just remember to be gentle,
While my soul continues to seek.
To love with this love that I love,
That carries me from week to week.

Something truly magical occurs,
In the world each and every day.
But nothing ever happens to me,
So I continue to sit and pray.

I'm praying for this passion,
To come and sweep me off my feet.
I'm tired of living an empty life,
The drum of my life the same old beat.

I have no true identity,
That I can call my own.
I am shaped by this world,
And what it to me has shown.

I'm running out of people to be,
So perhaps it's time for me to see.
That I can move on in to eternity,
Where you exist, waiting for me.

Sometimes I wonder...

I wonder if two people who are destined to fall in love have ever stared at the same star in the sky, and asked themselves if they would ever find someone to be with. I wonder if they did this on the same night, at the same time, in the exact same moment. Perhaps they were continents apart, or cultures apart. Perhaps they speak different languages, and live their lives differently. But even still, their wish to fall in love remains the same, as they stare at the same star in the night sky, and make the same exact wish.

I wonder if they will ever meet, and if they will fall in love, or if something unexpected will happen. I wonder if they could pass each other on the street, and never know it. Oblivious to the love which is desperately trying to work between them. I wonder if they see what has appeared in front of them. Perhaps they are unable to see, and will forever be unable to see. Perhaps they will never get the chance in the first place. Perhaps the wish they both made on that night, will simply fade away with time, in to the infinitely growing depths of the past.

I wonder about all the people out there, who stare at the same sky, at the same star, on the same night, at the same moment. I wonder how many people out there, are staring at the stars, like me. I wonder how many might possibly be staring at the same star I'm staring at, on the same night I'm staring at it. Perhaps no such person exists. Perhaps they do, but I will never meet them. Or perhaps I have to find this person, so they can watch the stars with me, and I can make it true.

Or perhaps...
They never existed in the first place.


Nah...

Life is too miraculous for that.

I found myself staring at you, when...

You asked me what I was doing. Perhaps for a moment I found myself lost. Not lost within the beauty of your face, which is normally the case, but lost within the beauty of your person. Everyone goes through life, always searching for a person that will be special to them. I went so long feeling lost and alone, that once I finally found you, I didn't think that I could ever let go for any reason. That's why I find myself staring at you sometimes. I just get lost in how wonderful you are.

It isn't even about me when I stare at you absentmindedly. It's all about you, and what you stand for in my life. It isn't just a person who I can say that I love. It isn't just someone to keep me company, since without someone I am alone. I could have that kind of company at any point in my life, but I never wanted it. I always wanted to wait for the chance to get something much greater, and I hope that I have. No, I'm almost certain that I have. I'm almost certain that I've found you.

Everyone has their own opinions on what is needed to make it work, and tips for enduring long years with someone. Everyone has their own plan for a successful relationship with another person. But I don't think of any of that when I stare at you. I just stare at eyes which I once dreamed of, and a face that I often fantasized about endlessly. Time stands still in this state, and I find that the world spins around me underneath my feet. I don't even know how long it goes on for, since I am being swept away by who you are.

I wouldn't call this love that I feel when I stare at you. I feel that passively, now. I cannot quite describe it, which is why it probably intrigues me in such a way. I feel bad because I cannot confess this feeling that I have when I stare at you, and yet, I'm not sure either of us would understand if I did. Perhaps I'm reaffirming my existence in the world, an existence proven valid by you. People gain a reason to live through other people. Without other people, there would be no other reason to continue to go on. We rely on each other, and the kindness and love from one another, to thrive. So I rely on you to thrive, and I hope too, that you feel you can depend on me to be there for you. So that we can thrive together.

So I know you asked me why I was staring at you, and I know that this explanation was a little long, but that is why. That is why I stare at you, with my trance-like gaze and quizzical mouth which could be both a smile and grin all in one. That is why I stare. So I can even for just a moment out of the day, remember the person that I cherish most in this world. Remember the person which keeps future dreams alive, and buries past nightmares. Remember the person that, I hope, will always be there. To love, and also, to be loved.

404.483.6127

There's nothing that you can't do.

The only person holding yourself back...is yourself.

Your reluctance to take action and move forward stems from uncertainty and a lack of confidence in your self.

You have one life to live. By being nervous or anxious, and not acting, you aren't living.

It will not matter tomorrow, in ten days, or after you die, what course of action you took.
So why should you worry about the outcome of following your heart?

Why do we delay, and hold ourselves back, when the answers to the riddles that plague us are right in front of us?

There's no reason to delay any more. There's nothing to be gained from going to the next level in life.

You can't do it alone. You'll need support. I'm not saying that I can give it to you, or that I'll want to give it to you.

But I've been inspired in some ways to help.

So if you need help.

Call me.

Densha Otoko

Download this television series off BitTorrent or something. It's worth it.

Twilight

Am I awake, is this a dream?
Nothing here is at it seems.

Outside pounding is the rain,
Twilight crashing through my windowpane.

The pictures crowding in my mind,
The coming of dawn, the approach of time.

It comes with the day,
Words I'll never say,
I take a look,
My Twilight's gone away.

Is this real,
Is this a dream,
You let me feel,
What I've never seen.

I'll give you a moment,
Even if you meant to say goodnight.
So I can selfishly savor,
The beauty of the Twilight.

Angry

I can't write, but I want too.

There's too many lights on in the room.
There's too many distractions. Too much movement.
Too many smells.

I read from some guy today on some website that a good writer can write anywhere, and if someone needs to be in a "zone" when they write, or in a particular environment, that they shouldn't be writing.

Only one thing I want to say at the moment.

Fuck that guy.

Simplicity...Anything But

I'm the desert,
Rough and dry.
You're the rain,
From the sky.

I'm the plant,
Who cannot run.
You give me life,
You are my sun.

I fall in to the deep,
Knowing I can't swim.
You grab my outstretched hand,
Before my fingers reach the brim.

Like a lost stray,
Searching the night for food.
You open up your door,
Greeting me with cheery mood.

A symbiosis of the heart,
If you feel the same in return.
I look in to the starry sky,
As my life becomes a nocturne.

Good-Bye, Friend

This is a good-bye from my heart,
So tired, worn, and jaded.
Because you were a friend to me,
And I feel obligated.

"See you some time soon,"
Is a lie I told myself that day.
I knew I wouldn't see you,
Until in my grave I lay.

Living in the past like this,
Thinking of who you are,
Blocks my future ahead,
And leaves my heart ajar.

Like a rain that has abandoned,
A dry and broken city of sand.
Granting a little bliss,
And then abandoning the desert land.

But the people in that city,
Now angered and full of jeers,
Can now cry because you left them,
And water their land with tears.

Wolves

A pack of wolves moves silently through a dark forest. Around eight in total, with three to four young pups. The male lead wolf guides them, about ten feet ahead. The move slowly, for they are in unknown territory. This thick Alaskan forest could hold many dangers, and if a wolf makes but one mistake, it is one mistake too many. They are playing Russian Roulette with five bullets.

As they are walking, the leader wolf continues with caution. Nothing seems out of place or wrong. There are no strange scents in the air, and everything seems oddly calm. Then, in a split and violent second, a trap latches around the wolf's leg, and holds him prisoner in agonizing pain. The wolves behind him begin to panic. A few male wolves come to his side, but the females flee in to other parts of the forest. The females run right in to traps that are waiting for them. One by one they run through rope loops hung up like invisible string. They are immediately suffocated when they continue to run after being caught up in these devices. The pups, running after their mothers, likewise meet the fate of several more traps strewn about the land.

In the span of about a minute the entire wolf clan was killed, save for two or three male wolves. These wolves must now continue to try and survive on their own, which will now be significantly harder. Their struggle has only begun, as they begin to form a new life.

---

The traps were set by men, who will skin the wolves and sell them so a rich person can be a little bit more comfortable.

Dogs

There's lots of people in my neighborhood with dogs. Almost everyone has a pet, but most of the people have dogs. Two of my neighbors in particular have very nice and friendly dogs. Chet, my neighbor to the left, has a cute little dog that he takes care of and loves alot. Gary, the guy across the street from me, has a dog too. Gary doesn't take very good care of his dog, though.


Chet always takes his dog out for walks, and lets him run freely through his yard, and chase squirrels and other animals around. Gary leaves his dog in an outside pen which is about the same size as my bathroom. I don't think he cleans it out but once a year, and his dog is always restless and cooped up. I feel bad for him sometimes. I think he might be jealous of Chet's dog since he is always seeing him run around in the yard across the street.


Just recently Gary bought one of those electric collars that shocks a dog when they try to run in to the street. After we finally told Gary that his dog needs to be let out more, he went the route which required the least effort on his part. We told him that the shocks hurt very badly, and that he should feel what it's like before putting it on his own pet, but he declined. Gary's dog could run around now, but if he ever went to far, he would fall to a shivering lump on the grass and just shake before standing up on wobbly legs.


One Sunday afternoon both dogs were out in their owner's respective lawns. A cat from a house down the street (Ms. Petersen I think it was) came running down the middle of the street. Chet's dog made a bee-line for it immediately, and was running way too fast for Chet to catch up. Gary's dog likewise took off, but after about ten feet he was well past his safe zone, and immediately crumpled to the ground. Since he was outside of the safe zone, he continued to get shocked. It wouldn't stop until he returned to the lawn. Chet's dog was still running after the cat. Then in the span of about three seconds, an SUV which avoided a stop sign ran right over Chet's dog, leaving it lying motionless on the pavement.


Chet's dog was bleeding and dead, and Gary's dog was being electrically tortured and alive. Chet ran to his dog, but immediately saw it was a lost cause. His dog was gone as soon as the SUV hit it. He ran over the Gary's dog, ripped the electric collar off, glared at Gary's house, and then let go of the dog. The dog ran back to his pen, where he would spend the remainder of his dog years - cooped up and (if at all possible for a dog) insane. Chet buried his dog in his backyard after giving is a proper funeral. There's even a little tombstone and everything.


Gary's dog always used to stare at Chet's dog, and I never knew what it was. I always thought it was jealousy. I always knew deep down that he wished he could be as free as that dog, to run around wherever he pleased. I wonder, does he still feel that way? Is Gary's dog the lucky one to be safe from danger, yet nearly imprisoned? Are the few years of joy that Chet's dog possessed more than Gary's dog's worth of life? Sometimes I ask myself, knowing the outcome beforehand, which dog I would rather be at birth. Would I bet Chet's dog, knowing that I'd die sooner than expected, but free for the period of life living? Or would I be Gary's dog, who I know would live a long life, but also one more or less entombed within a pen of wire mesh, too afraid to move out in to a world where the fear of danger is worse than death itself.


Which dog would you be?

Which dog are you?

Guardian Angel

When I was just a young child, the other kids would used to always tease me. It was either my clothes, my hair, or the way I walked. I don't remember having any friends for a very long time. I just remember being very lonely and sad. Very sad for long periods of time. I was not good at talking with people, so I got made fun of. No one was there to stick up for me but myself, and I couldn't do it.

One time, while walking to class, I was "accidentally" tripped to the ground. I was carrying my books with both arms around them as if they were my child. They went flying across the ground when I fell. Some people stepped on them as they walked passed me, jerking their feet violently and ripping pages out of my books. Someone spit on the back of my head, and another person stepped on my fingers when I tried to get up. I had to bandage them for a few weeks until they healed back to normal.

One day in the lunch line, I was waiting to get my food. I liked that day because we were having pizza that day, and I liked pizza. Even if I got made fun of and laughed at, I was happy if we were having pizza. I stood in line with my lunch tray, and waited my turn in line. Someone behind me in line was laughing. I got my pizza, and decided I would treat myself to chocolate milk. Chocolate milk costs a little more, but I wanted to be extra happy today. I was walking to my table that I eat at alone, and someone hit the bottom of my tray with their hand. My food went flying and the milk spilled all over me. I went back to get another, but they were all out. The two kids behind me got all that was left, which was more than they could eat.

In gym class we run around outside usually. I ran with the other girls, and the boys ran with the other boys. The other girls made fun of me because I hadn't developed like they had. They laughed at me when we got in to our gym clothes. I tried not to blush. I don't think I succeeded. Sometimes we did this exercise where we use two long white poles and smash them together with a partner while someone jumps between them in the middle. I didn't like this exercise, because if your partner went too fast or delayed, you would smash your fingers, and it hurt alot. My partner would always be someone who did that, and I didn't like this game because I always ended up bruising my fingers very badly, or causing them to bleed.

I had one friend once in school. It was a girl named Sally. Sally was kind of nice to me, but I could tell she didn't want to be too nice. One day while we were out at gym, someone switched my school clothes with dirty sweatpants and a sweatshirt with something bad written on it. I got in trouble for wearing the shirt, and after that Sally never talked to me again.

---

Three dashes. That's what separates the past me from who I am explaining now. Three dashes. Just those three dashes explain how I came to be, and how I exist now. Those three dashes explain the trials I went through and the depression I suffered. They explain my resolve, and struggle to avoid killing myself to end my emotional pain and suffering. Those three dashes embody my self perserverance to continue to live, with hope as the only thing to hold on to. Hope that one day, I might meet a person who is nice to me. I look back, and see I was the kid that everyone picked on to make themselves feel better. There's always a kid like that, and I was that kid. But when I was so young, I didn't know such things, so I needed other ways to survive. And the hope that I would meet someone who liked me was that hope. The hope that a person might actually care about me.

In my freshman year of college I met that person. He was everything that I wanted in a friend. I did not and never did have courage about myself. He had that courage for me, within me. He showed me how to stand up for myself, how to defend myself, and how to love myself. He taught me how to enjoy life, and how to live. He taught me the things which most people take for granted. He taught me so many things about life and how it works, and what one should expect from life. I cherished my life from that moment on, and if I could I would thank him every day for the rest of my life. But I can't. I'm left with one final question I want to ask him, but I can't. I can't ask him why he killed himself.

I don't know the reason. I don't know his personal life. I don't know what events transpired in his life to lead him to such a decision. This person had taught me so much that I didn't know, and taken me so far above my previous heights. How could such a great person take their own life? Even I, who knew nothing about living, decided I would not take my life so long ago. Back when I was teased as a child, I still held on to hope. I never let go of that, despite what ignorance I possessed otherwise. But him...did he not have hope? Did he not have anything to live for? He seemed so wise beyond his years, yet at the same time hopelessly devoid of any real sense of purpose. Perhaps I was so busy accepting his help in trying to fix my life, that I didn't help him with his.

I don't really know what happened to him, or why. I don't even know where he was buried, or I would visit his grave every day if I could to thank him. He was an amazing person to helped me in the hardest part of my life, and for that I am forever grateful. He was, and always will be, my guardian angel.

Even if he didn't believe they exist.

Crying

I'm crying, crying, crying,
But I don't shed a tear.
Just a swelling of my heart,
And a growing presence of fear.

I'm crying, crying, crying,
But no water touches my cheeks.
Just a balloon inside my stomach,
Expanding for weeks and weeks.

I'm crying, crying, crying,
But there's no way to dry my sadness.
Because no wetness is on my face,
This crying induces a scary madness.

I'm crying, crying, crying,
Silently on the inside of my chest.
My insides are about to burst,
I just wish I could cry like the rest.

This Is The Meaning Of Life

I'll stand on your shoulders,
If you stand on mine.
You help boost that guy up,
And we'll reach the top just fine.

We'll keep climbing on each other,
Up and up, towards the top.
I say!, what a pyramid,
Keep on building, don't stop!

We are all here to help each other,
Reach the very tip of this thing.
I'll give you a mighty lift,
So you can stand on top and sing!

But after your done don't forget,
To reach down your hand to pull me up.
So I can join you too!,
And we can drink from the same cup.

We're all in this together,
Even though there's nothing at the top.
So just keep pushing others forward,
And they'll push you too! (Don't stop!)

Make-Believe Love

I find it funny how here and now,
Letting my heart run wild is something I'll allow.
I would leave my future and forget my past,
For a fantasy life with you at last.

But that fantasy world would be in my head,
Make-believe in my heart, and not alive but dead.
It would exist in dreams, where nothing's as it seems,
And never in the real world, where the sky's sun gleams.

Is a heart so strong that it can leave all it has known,
Or so weak to abandon what it's life has shown?
If you asked me for your hand, I would say OK,
Even though I don't know you, or anything else to say.

Can a person inherently love too much perhaps,
Even people who are fake and exist as an imaginary lapse?
I want to be their friend, who they can call at any time,
And who sings them silently to sleep, with a bedtime rhyme.

Loving these things which aren't real, catches up in the end,
Where a heart stands lonely, and has no more room to bend.
Perhaps just a distorted mind, can create love out of thin air,
The root of this insanity, is having love but no one to share.

What Am I?

It's a riddle. Not about me. Have fun solving it.

How confused can I be,
If I can't know what I see?
How hard is it to know,
What my heart tries to show?

Freud said a life comes in two,
I'm either mad or horny (is that true?).
If you give me attention I latch on fast,
Slowly injecting you with my haunting past.

I might be straight but I could be gay,
Only a psychoanalyist can truly say.
Open me up and peer at my mind,
At your own risk, see what you can find.

Probably a tangled mass of hopes and dreams,
Tarnished and scrambled, busting at the seams.
Fixable by you, or destroyed beyond repair?
Is this Love true, or a precursor of despair?

You are two people, so which is the one?
Which is the one, who is trying to run?
What am I? I am really confused,
Just What Am I, I have forever mused.


Just what am I?

How Are You?

"Hi there, how are you doing?"

Blah.

Why do people always ask this? If the meeting is informal, the answer will always be "I'm doing OK/Alright/Pretty good/Great/Good/etc". And that can be a lie. This is why I don't like small talk.

When you ask me how I'm doing, I can answer in one of two ways:

a.) The socially acceptable and expected response of how I am doing OK/average, or above-average/Good. You'll say the same, and then we'll have some common ground to go off of.

b.) I can tell you the way things really are, perhaps giving you (a stranger) too much information at once, and freaking you out.

I usually use A sadly, because it is what is expected.

But what if I used B? What if I told this person that I'm actually not doing quite well, and that I'm going through some very deep personal problems with my lifestyle and life decisions? Do you think that other person would lend an ear in empathy? Or would they run with their metaphorical tail between their legs?
Who knows? I know I never will.

I think this is just one of those social things that everyone else gets and I'm still questioning.

The World

You either perceive reality as good or bad. Things are inherently bad, and if good things happen you are fortunate, or things are naturally good, and bad things disappoint you. You are either upset, or overjoyed, depending on your take on the world. Do good things happen in a bad world, or do bad things happen in a good world? Either way your reaction will be the same, one of acceptance or one of denial.

If you deny that bad things will happen to you, then you will be upset when those bad things happen. If you accept bad things for what they are - which is a defining aspect of the world we live in - then you can move on easier. Expecting certain things from life is never good. Especially when you don't know if you can make them happen. Don't expect anything from yourself. Just be who you are, and live how it makes you happy, and enjoy the best times when they come. Attempt to always have good things happen, and you will be even more disappointed when they don't.

Much of life is not fun or enjoyable. This isn't pessimism. It's reality. And you have to learn to deal with the reality of the world if you wish to be a part of it. Assume that you will have less fun and more struggle in your life. Then when you have fun and enjoy life, you can appreciate it. Everyone goes through hard times. Everyone will be sad at one point or another. You will be sad in the future at some point. Maybe it's in a different state, on a vacation, on a date, or by yourself, but it will happen. Just as you know that at some point in the future you will feel physical pain that hurts very badly. But do you wake up in the morning each day fearing that physical pain? No, because it comes unexpectedly, and fearing in general isn't healthy.

So don't fear that bad things will happen, because they will. That's like fearing that you will at some point in your future be hurt emotionally and physically. It might be stubbing your toe, or someone telling you that they hate you. It's going to happen. You can't stop it. This isn't pessimism. It's reality. Learn to deal with it, so you can understand the world better and be able to be an integral part of it.