Pen-Powered Insanity

Elevate form over function to get at less easily articulable truths.

Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby idioticidioms » Tue Dec 10, 2013 3:53 pm

Possibilities

I want you to take a walk with me, as I explain to you the intricacies
Of the world around us, its inanery and everything that should be plain to see
Open your mind and your eyes, prepare to have yourself modified
Are you with me? are you listening? Good, good, let me simplify
We are living in a world, today, that asks you to let others think in your stead
Where free-thinking still has not made it's way into each and every citizen
Millions of people still accept the words of their fellow man without question
And still these same millions denounce blind faith and that their minds are open
But tell me, when it was, that we stopped being able to think for ourselves
Tell me when it was that we decided to let others guide the fate of our world
Was there a committee to decide that instead of informing the people of their indiscretions
That instead of just providing advice, they would decide their lives for them?
Now excuse me for pointing out the obvious here, but If people can't trust themselves with the big decisions
How can they trust another man or woman to make them for 'em?
Blind faith, it's the blind leading the blind and no one has a clue as to what's in front of their faces
No matter how old you are, you still don't know what it is you're doing, no clue at all to the different phases
of the world around you, of the multitude of places except what your told and what you experience
Now this is an exercise I want everyone to perform: Turn off your Televisions, your Radios and put down your Newspapers
Go outside and open your eyes and ears to the world around you, breathe in the fresh air
Make for yourself your own observations and decisions and assumptions about the world around you
Instead of trusting others to decide and observe and inform you
Not everyone has your best intentions in mind, and a lot of people in this world have let greed consume them
Too willing to step all over others in their power-driven struggle, the ultimate reward being fame or fortune
People will lie to you, tell you something that isn't true, delude you with illusions of a world designed to suit you
But in the end, it's all just a lie, and those without open hearts or open minds will fall into the trap of the multitude
Freedom does not exist, you are not free in this world of luxury and technology
But instead a captive in a jail that has no bars or walls, a cell of Bureaucratic creativity
To steal from you the very freedoms originally intended, through written words of legalized documents
A body of men and women fighting a war on paper, with pens, so complex as to confuse the minds of ordinary citizens
So you see why it's important to exercise freedom of the mind, to think for yourself and scrutinize
The word of your fellow men and women, to choose to believe or not believe what they inform you of
And to make your own decisions on what's important in your life, to not become the victim of this supposed freedom
It is important that you all rationalize, take it all in and prioritize, open your minds and eyes
Take not the words of your fellow man on blind faith alone, be wary of the advice given for free;
Explore all possibilities



I Am

I am what I want to be
not what you make of me
I am what I see to be
not what you see in me
I am who I ought to be
nothing you can do to me
I am the one who rose up
who never let a thing keep him down
I fought the good fight; I fought
and so I learned to be a clown
funny and humorous, though here you don't see it
here I am serious, where reality is tenuous
in the end it is because this is the internet
this is where I can reach the most people
with the light of my good intent
to try to bring logic and sense and reason
to as many people that will listen
at the same time stumbling and bumbling
and making mistakes; I'm only human; among humans
I try to keep patience, but damn the ignorance
try to keep friendly, but damn the haters
try to keep control, but damn the unseen
Just more negativity and it spreads
like I want my love to spread
and some times it gets to me
some times it's overwhelming
but I fight it well, I fight the good fight
and I'll fight it until the day that I die
All for freedom of mind.



The Savage Garden

the garden is no longer passive
it's gone from savant to savage
a breeding ground for hateful messages
spread through words and action
from person to person
anger raging in every direction
Sorrow and pain reigning supreme
making nightmares out of fancy dreams
in the darkness someone screams
cries echo around, indescribable is the sound
of another person beat up and dragged down
by the suffocating swell of societal clowns
~
Who are we; what have we become
so lost and confused amid the swell
of fallen angels and rising demons
deranged and trying to rise above
the twisted thoughts of
I don't even know where to begin
~
Is it hard to see the light?
so drowned out by the black of night
Is it hard to find hope and love?
Are you searching up above?
Look to the invisible
look to yourself, the undefinable
Part that seeks to lift you up
to give you air to breathe
before you suffocate and cease
to be what you want to be
and become another beast
in this sea of savage hate disease
~
Who are we; what have we become
so lost and confused amid the swell
of fallen angels and rising demons
deranged and trying to rise above
the twisted thoughts of
Life; and death sweetly beckons
~
What's worth it and what isn't?
so easy to see the bad emotions
you gotta look for the best
push through to the joy and discard the rest
cause happiness is your own design
you're 110% responsible for your own mind
you can't rely on anyone to pull you out
to pick you up and set you down
back on your feet on solid ground
That's all you, and it's up to you
to decide the motions that you suffer through
nobody can find the light of love inside of you
that's something that only you can do.
~
Who are we; what have we become
so lost and confused amid the swell
of fallen angels and rising demons
deranged and trying to find our way back
to simple times that have since been
lost to memory, and the only way out
isn't back, but to continue on
And find ourselves along the way




The Coming Tide

The world has begun to sour
Winter winds have begun to flower
An ice age in the making
Humanity at point-breaking
Shadows dancing upon my wall
Creating silhouettes in the throes of battle
My diplomacy spent upon the norm
And the ignorant begin to look like worms
~
The antichrist is here; the devil
and here comes the falling anvil
Man is poisoning the land
Destroying it, just because he can
And in my stinted sanity
It seems the perfect cure for all humanity
I want to rid the world of all stupidity
~
The world will end;
Nobody really repents,
even though their guilt is evident
~
In the beginning, there was God
Or so we in our youth were taught
In the end; ultimately; man shapes his own destiny
Nostradamus predicted I would come
And the Bible said I'd come again
So fall in love with me and follow my voice
No less a martyr; you have a choice
~
Like the pied piper I am, but not hollow
Leading only those that choose to follow
And people ask why God has forsaken
When they never looked to find him
To do good, some times you wear black
And the sky becomes a lightninged crack
The trees igniting under fired blasts
winter snow falling quick and fast
Wake up and realize the days are numbered
My coming the signal to tear the world asunder
~
Lucifer is dancing upon your grave
Who to stand up to him but the brave
Souls vanquished upon contact
A fallen angel with wings turned black
I am the blood-stained Christ
In me is not found avarice
This is my second coming
a hymn of battle will I be humming
A crown of thorns and scars from the whip
Branding my soul of souls from tip to tip.
~
No longer the peaceful figure up on the cross
I am God incarnate, in the flesh
And in the background you can hear Him weep
For those He cannot save; cannot keep
Weeping for the suffering He can't deny
And all the Angels around Him cry
~
It's all just a dream we have
Every night, a nightmare bad
And then we come awake
To find the nightmare has taken place
Too many sins in a world bent on Utopia
Somebody has to bring an end first to this Fucktopia
~
This is our reality, our seeming density
Smelling of the scent of death and decay intensity
And it becomes a lie
All we ever live for; we die
And nothingness hangs by our side
Fall in love and follow my voice
As I reach out to give the world another choice
Wake up and face reality
Wake up to the density; combined intensity
Of millions of humans alive with chaotic tendencies
Repent and pray to be made better
Or be lost amid the coming tide that tears asunder
The power of the voice that cracks with thunder





In the Darkness (Find Me)

In the cool darkness find me
standing amid pale moon light
There I will be
a man of stature and size
not creeping through shadows
nor lurking with intent maddening
but striding forward
fiery spirit within me, blazing
hidden behind darkened eyes
born of the need to survive
Look as if I fit in
Be like and look like them
for if I don't, tis my downfall
as they rip to shreds something
as they rip to shreds me
for satisfaction so momentary
a brief respite from what I sought
to bring to the world; their loss
Causing them to think thoughts
they'd rather not
buried down deep in consciousness
stored in forgottenness
rage and anger and torment
sorrow and bitter regret
secrets behind lies
lies behind secrets
doors shut and never opened
doors opened that should be shut
cycling and circulation through unstable
frames of minds; they're unable
to exercise, beyond their current frame
lost to the box they can't escape
but find me in the darkness
standing amid pale moon light
There I will be, where no one looks to see
hidden behind darkened eyes
striking blows for frightened minds
because freedom is a dream shared
It is a dream fought for and protected
On all fronts and in all ways
and we deserve freedom of peace of mind
freedom on all fronts and in all lives
so that no more have to live in
sorrow and pain and torment
and no more will have to suffer
the way that some suffer
too intense and too wrong for words
where only silence is
and thought just can't sum up
so much loss, so much anger
so much sadness; rage; unconstrained
caused by ourselves and our fellow man
failing to rise above inferior plan
falling prey to enemies that have preyed
on our species for far too long
and have put paid
to every bit of our societal decay
Find me in the darkness
Standing in the moonlight
Gazing up at stars and sky
There I stand and there I fight




The Psalm of Christ

I am the fault of the flesh
I am better than the rest
But still, I fail the test
Do you hate me yet
or Do you wish to
Well then you better do
What your brain tells you to
And remove the fault from your flesh
Dance upon me as I dance upon you
And we'll remember the way we used to
Forgetting and forgiving
nothing and everything
Discard me, the fault of the flesh
The useless anomaly of the world
No sense in my senseless direction
No correction to fix my imperfection
And then the world ends
And the darkness descends
falling down, as silence deepens
Nevermore said Edgar Allen Poe
As the raven; tap, tap, tapping; Nevermore
And nevermore is what becomes of the world
And I fall
I fall down and down and down
Faster and faster, the falling clown
Speed increasing and then I slow down
And I never hit the ground
I go back up
on this bungee of tearing threads
This yo yo of tied string ends
The Angel of blood tears
Beware your deepest fears
I am the Jesus of Suburbia
Come to announce the end of our fucktopia
Your human sins mounting daily
Each and every single one of you
Killing the Savage garden in which we play
Polluting and destroying that which must be saved
Your damnation you have bought
Face the wrath of a vengeful God
I am your Jesus of Suburbia
Come to bring the new utopia
The cheating, filthy acts of wanton sex
Wreck of a once majestic act of having kids
And I fall
I fall down and down and...
down, faster and faster the falling...
clown, speed increasing but I never seem...
to hit the ground
I snap back up this bungee
Before I go back to plunging
I hear the fraying of cords
beware your deepest fears
when it breaks and I fall
Then Judgement day will be called
By the flesh, I am your fault
The bleeding Christ





Stained

I know you want to scream
Tears slipping at the edge of reality
Hopes crushed, falling inward at the sign of dementiality
We all fall in to the call of insanity
It will have you, if it can
The darkness, the doom of every man
Blinding our vision of hope, the blight of depression
Breathing altered, confused and heightened
Heart beating speedily inside your chest
Ragged breath after ragged breath
Pain, like a harbinger angel delivers soft caress
We are what we are, we appear to be insane
Blows of inadequacy delivered to the brain
Dark hues, colors spent; a soul is bent
And darkened with experience
Stained
Crimson ink on paper flesh
Drawn by a knife's edge
Equal to nothing close at all
Of the emotions disconfigured, painful
Dementia clawing, ever climbing
To heightened pitches of decayed declining
Merciful only to memories better left forgotten
Revenge like a bittersweet romance is tasted
Preying upon the mind until all is wasted
What arises from the dust is like the phoenix
But reborn from the deadened dreams of beaten children
We are what we are, we appear to be insane
Blows of insecurities delivered to our brains
Dark hues, colors spent; a soul is bent
And darkened with experience
Stained
In the end, it's the strong who will survive
The ones who stand up to the tricks of time
Insanity crushing the edges of their minds
Everywhere living out normal lives
Appearing to be nothing more than normal people
All the while behind closed doors
Hear them ranting and raving at empty air
Swearing vengeance at foes imagined
Crying for forgiveness with the same breath
From some relative long ago laid to rest
Fevered intensity of a monstrous history
Laid out in front of them for all to see
We are what we are, we appear to be insane
Inadequacy and insecurities delivered to our brains
Dark hues of colors spent on a soul that's bent
And darkened with experience
Beaten and bruised; bloodily stained





John Wilmot

I think tis possible I finally found
A man housing my own soul; how profound
The writings and stylings of one John Wilmot
Professing love, lust and life as a sot
Ne'er afraid to speak his mind
You'd likely to have resented him in yours
and finding quick that cynic's tongue, be hard-pressed to wit return
A true free-thinker in a free-thinking paradise
created by the crown which he so despised
as despising all monarchies as travesties and lies
A man who lived life as if he enjoyed it though truly he didn't
until the very end; disgusted with, and by, the reasoning of men
and he lived his life according to the pen
I can think of no better person to mirror my thoughts
Caught in todays' society as it is, tumbling; lost
amidst the despicable hordes of thoughtless slobs
I find myself consumed by the desire to drink, to be a sot
As this man was in his own time, til drink did rot
his very innards and guts, body consumed by the pox
This asshole of assholes; prick of pricks; one John Wilmot
If you were to ask me what intrigues me so much
about a man whose life was filled with wine and lust
A mind from a different time, as keen and sharp as mine
Controversial and hated, yet loved all the same
Ne'er afraid to speak his thoughts, to push the limits
to and of the world surrounding his very being,
possessing a strength of will found lacking in normal men.
For him to be a man of such stock in life
To disregard all titles of nobility and spurn his Christ,
yet be so profound with reason as to expose all lies
within the hearts and minds of all mankind
~
Pride drew him in, as cheats their bubbles catch,
And made him venture, to be made a wretch.
His wisdom did his happiness destroy,
Aiming to know that world he should enjoy;
And Wit was his vain, frivolous pretence
Of pleasing others, at his own expense.
~
But thoughts are given for action's government;
Where action ceases, thought's impertinent.
Our sphere of action is life's happiness,
And he that thinks beyond, thinks like an ass.

~
Even though in life he was heretic, heathen and sot
it is my hope that you will remember, forever, Lord John Wilmot
------------
Italic portions quoted from 'A Satyr Against Reason and Mankind' by John Wilmot, The Earl of Rochester





Every Time

Every time I see you,
I see sadness in your soul
A sadness that I am powerless to heal
Your words like rushing water, falling to the rocks below
Crashing, sending shivers down spines of those who behold
Such pain to be found behind such looks as yours
Tragic how something so good has so much torture that they endure
And only those who have felt such pain can see it, I'm sure
The endless depths of such eternal rapture
A tragedy; a travesty;
That such things fall upon a person such as thee
So hopelessly, inherently good in a sea of ill intent
Lost amid the tumultuous strands of the drowning present
Every time I see you, I see the same
Horrors hidden behind a marvelous brain
Such easy eloquence in which you bare your heart
And it brings to my mind the plight of a falling star
Whose light, shining bright, makes a path through space
Brilliant; beautiful, and yet destined to be erased
As those who view it know not why
Such a thing passes in front of their eyes
And still they look ever skyward
As they reason, 'there are still other stars'
Not bothering to mourn the passing of one in a billion
Not bothering to even notice that there was a difference
Every time I see you, I wonder what you've seen
What have you gone through that devours your entire being
As those who view you stare on, not having seen what you have
Uncomprehending, uncaring, like vultures in the sand
The plight of one who is so lost and so very alone
Troubled; nightmare ridden, and weary to the bone
How long can you last in this world of wrongs?
How long can the strong remain strong?
Because even with all of your 'weaknesses', as you see them
You've managed to hold on and persevere in spite of them
An incredible person you are, for any one to view
And this is what I see, every time I see you





Fear Desire

Fear the inevitable
insatiable
drive of desire
That which lights the inner fire
fear that which gives reason
To chase dreams through the mire
Find within yourself treason of the highest cause
Sell yourself out for what you want
That's the name of the game:
to lose yourself in all of the fame
Downgraded by something so simple yet so overpowering
a carnal instinct with the power of history guiding
Yes, fear that which you want
Because it never turns out
The way that you want it
a miscalculation of epic proportion
so grandiose as to usurp from your mind
the position of highest priority
a selfish cause, a selfish heart
to sacrifice everything else for just one thing
That which you want the most
a dream, a vision whatever you may call it
Desire, fate's vixen calling you forth
to reach for something of perceived worth
Fear what you desire





Follow

Floating on a stream of time
listening to Earth's lullaby
Falling endlessly into an abyss
with only a passing memory of this
Teeth rising to meet passing sheep
or so to me they seem
Flowing snakes, brown and liquid blue
And seas of green, nature's fruit
Where path's meet and then fall apart
I know only this, follow your heart




Gone

A million times I've thought of you
dreamed of you; screamed for you
I keep going back, but nothing's there
just memories; more reminders
of how miserably I fucked up
~
I wish I could take it back
just say one word and have that be that
I miss you and I miss your love
It's surprising just how much
Even after all this time has passed
~
You'll never know, because you'll never read
This poem I wrote to you from me
You'll never know how much I'm still in love
because you're just a fading memory of
someone who's gone forever




Who Am I

Out of all the years I've been alive
One little question stays on my mind
Just three little words;
'Who am I?'
~
See, the man in the mirror never talks back
Often imitates, but never alone does he act
A facade; an illusion, but he never lies
You can see the truth within his eyes
Forever alone as the day breaks
and still alone as the light fades
Who am I, what have I become?
said I'd never, but I succumbed
The adult; never the child again
Lips parted, a breath ragged
Bursts forth from this liars chest
and so I said.... so I said...
Back in the day when I was just a kid
I hate them; fuck them; I'll never be like them
~
I am strong, yet I'm weak
I am proud, but made to be meek
Have seen miracles and helped build tragedies
Seen days pass like autumn leaves in a breeze
I am fire and I am rain
Could burn you down, but I'd always feel the pain
~
I am the sum; the accumulation of;
everyone who came before; leading up
Past generations gone fast to little children
Parents sins passed on to little kids
and like a top it spins and spins faster
looping to make son like father;
daughter like mother; and it smothers;
it deadens childrens' hopes; and their dreams redden
Like blood in the viscous muck
of this gene pool that we call love
and when it stops only I remain standing
in the fastly disappearing; swiftly dwindling dust
~
I am everybody who came before me
and everyone I know
I am nobody, on the wind as a leaf
flying through life alone
who I am becomes a legendary quest
Like King Arthur and the grail of Jesus
Whoever I am, wherever I am
Only the quest and myself can change him.





Just One

We go about our way
each and every day
Without knowing a single thing
Every smile; every tear;
a prelude to what we fear
We really don't have a clue
We're born, and we die
What lies between the two
is what we've called life
Where dawn and dusk are
the only things which divide
everything; heart and mind;
into moments of joy or pain
Some say it isn't worth it
that the pain is just too much for them
but I would rather have,
one breath of air,
one kiss of rain upon my face,
one touch of wind as it blows through my hair,
one minute with you; together alone;
than to have felt nothing at all.
Just one.




Judged

I have been judged countless times
by cowards who dare not take up pen to write
Judged on how I choose to form my rhymes
They lament, 'It isn't proper, it does not flow quite right.'
'Where is the form? All I see are words in lines.'
But who are they to judge?
Did Poe have such critics?
Did Shakespeare? Perhaps Faust did
Such silly critics; these insufferable pricks
To tell a poet how to write; how elitist
Would I go to a woodworkers house
to say to him, 'Here, let me show you how
this piece of wood should join with that,' or
to a painters shop to say, 'I dislike this picture
You should have put this line here; that one there?'
No, I durst not, for that is not my element
And why should they care so much
whether I copy the form of poets long since dust?
Should I not create my own
like they've done so long ago?
Did their critics come to say to them
That they should form their rhymes like the cavemen?
I shudder at the thought
Those poor fools; wrapped too tight and lost
within a sea at their own foolish cost
Were I to be them, I would shirk my lot
I would not deign to say to them
'Why, sir, this is rubbish and should be condemned.'
Nay, I think that I would rather mind my own
Allow them to give their fans what they love and know
It is not that I can not write a limerick or an ode
quatrains; ballads, sestinas; sonnets; cinquains; acrostics
All of these, to me, are known
It was never a question of if I can; I won't
I ache to be unique, like so many others before me
like all of my critics; so why do they hate when I succeed?
As John Wilmot has said, 'In my experience,
Those who do not like you fall into two categories:
the stupid and the envious.
The stupid will like you in five years time,
the envious; never.'
I put my soul into every poem that I write
I do so while entertaining; I am hardly ever trite
So, should you find yourself among the few
Who sit high atop their thrones with thoughts askew
Saying ever-so-boldly, 'I do not like this.'
Then, good sirs and madams, you have but one question to ask
'Am I one of the stupid?, or one of the envious?'
User avatar
idioticidioms
Thinker
 
Posts: 783
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2013 1:39 pm

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby MagsJ » Sun Dec 22, 2013 10:16 pm

Bump
Image
User avatar
MagsJ
The Londonist
 
Posts: 16956
Joined: Wed Nov 01, 2006 2:59 pm
Location: London, NC1

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Ben JS » Fri Dec 27, 2013 11:28 am

MagsJ, you're right.

This is great stuff.

I don't think he's coming back to this site... I hope he finds a fitting home for his presence.

Shame that he was greeted by insightfoul when he entered.
Formerly known as: Joe Schmoe

ben wrote:I think it is eloquently fitting that my farewell thread should be so graciously hijacked by such blatant penis waving. It condenses my entire ILP experience into one very manageable metaphor.
User avatar
Ben JS
Human Being
 
Posts: 2060
Joined: Thu Apr 19, 2012 9:12 am
Location: Australia

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby MagsJ » Sat Dec 28, 2013 11:53 pm

This site seems to drive anything and anyone good away.. not that our remaining posters aren't good, but perhaps we need to ease up on the trigger-happy warning-issues.
Image
User avatar
MagsJ
The Londonist
 
Posts: 16956
Joined: Wed Nov 01, 2006 2:59 pm
Location: London, NC1

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby rackedrick » Mon Jan 06, 2014 12:11 am

Breathtaking.

Such easy eloquence in which you bare your heart
And it brings to my mind the plight of a falling star
Whose light, shining bright, makes a path through space
Brilliant; beautiful, and yet destined to be erased
As those who view it know not why
Such a thing passes in front of their eyes
And still they look ever skyward
As they reason, 'there are still other stars'
Not bothering to mourn the passing of one in a billion
Not bothering to even notice that there was a difference.
The highest form of free will is acting upon what you believe you should do.- Me
Fear is the greatest driving force for success.- Me
I’m forging myself in the fires of despair. To harden myself, to make myself stronger.-Me
What’s the point of doing something if it doesn't matter to you?- Me
"When you want to breathe as bad as you want to succeed then you'll be successful."
We have to do the best we can. This is our sacred human responsibility. -Albert Einstein
Make the most of yourself, for that is all there is of you. - Emerson
rackedrick
 
Posts: 312
Joined: Fri Mar 13, 2009 2:11 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Orbie » Mon Jan 06, 2014 4:07 am

A brilliant romantic journey of the mind through the heart to the soul!
[size=50][/size]Allone's Obe issance



In answer to your prayer
sincere, the centre of
your circle here,
i stand ; and , without
taking thought,-
i know nothing. But i can

Full well your need-as
you be men
This: Re-Creation. With a
bow,
Then, your obedient

servant now.
One gift is all i find in me,
And that is faithful
memory
Orbie
partly cloudy, with a few showers
 
Posts: 7596
Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2012 6:34 pm
Location: Night of infinite faith

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Ierrellus » Mon Jan 06, 2014 3:12 pm

obe wrote:A brilliant romantic journey of the mind through the heart to the soul!

I agree. =D> =D>
"We must love one another or die." W.H.Auden
I admit I'm an asshole. Now, can we get back to the conversation?
From the mad poet of McKinley Ave.
Ierrellus
ILP Legend
 
Posts: 12309
Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2006 12:52 pm
Location: state of evolving

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby idioticidioms » Tue Jan 28, 2014 11:29 am

Inspired

I was once inspired
to be quite more than clever
I put in place safeguards within my mind
to keep me well within the lines
I put algorithms in place to keep me from becoming too egotistic and over the top
and algorithms to freeze my insecurities and stop their clock
I put in place functions
that would cause me to look through multiple perceptions
at once and to accept new ones as they come
and incorporate them into the whole of what I am
I put in place a special function, having it say
'I will never know all there is' and by that token
I push myself forth every day to learn new things
and in fact learn more than most can say
What I know of truth is that truth is everything
and to tell only a part of it remains a half-truth and a lie
and yet in just the telling of that, there is a permanent truth
For a broken clock is right twice a day and a working one changes to suit the time
There's another
And if we are to assume that quantum mechanics are right, then everything exists at the same time it doesn't
And our extremes we see as extremes; our paradoxes we see as paradoxes;
really aren't what they appear and balance perfectly if we dare to bend them in upon each other
We might find there are more similarities in everything
than differences that divide our thoughts
and create our demons and our Gods
But, surely there is a God and he has already done the same as I have;
creating his own system of checks and balances that runs smoothly and without hiccup
and we are all a part of that and things will work out for the best
and people just have to trust that the universe; after all; knows what it is doing.



Whiner

I used to be quite the whiner
Always wanting to be sad and in despair
And I often wondered about this
how I could love feeling like crap
and I realized it was oner dem
thingamajigs, a learnt habit
spent so long in it that I nearly drowned in it
beating myself up, feeling sorry for myself
and all those around me I couldn't help
but then, one day, a new voice came into my head
still my voice, but new, and I knew it wasn't dead
It spoke strong and fierce and told me not to be a pussy
which, surprisingly, was what I needed, exactly
I often wonder if time is really linear
or whether our spirits can go anywhere
Not as we think, but connected through feeling
As sappy as that may be, it's a strong possibility
Have I set the roots in place for the future tree I will be
To connect with this past version to guide and foster me?
Have I been doing that all along?
And I think perhaps that some people must hate themselves an awful lot
Like I used to before I learned, again, how to love.




The Savage Garden

the garden is no longer passive
it's gone from savant to savage
a breeding ground for hateful messages
spread through words and action
from person to person
anger raging in every direction
Sorrow and pain reigning supreme
making nightmares out of fancy dreams
in the darkness someone screams
cries echo around, indescribable is the sound
of another person beat up and dragged down
by the suffocating swell of societal clowns
~
Who are we; what have we become
so lost and confused amid the swell
of fallen angels and rising demons
deranged and trying to rise above
the twisted thoughts of
I don't even know where to begin
~
Is it hard to see the light?
so drowned out by the black of night
Is it hard to find hope and love?
Are you searching up above?
Look to the invisible
look to yourself, the undefinable
Part that seeks to lift you up
to give you air to breathe
before you suffocate and cease
to be what you want to be
and become another beast
in this sea of savage hate disease
~
Who are we; what have we become
so lost and confused amid the swell
of fallen angels and rising demons
deranged and trying to rise above
the twisted thoughts of
Life; and death sweetly beckons
~
What's worth it and what isn't?
so easy to see the bad emotions
you gotta look for the best
push through to the joy and discard the rest
cause happiness is your own design
you're 110% responsible for your own mind
you can't rely on anyone to pull you out
to pick you up and set you down
back on your feet on solid ground
That's all you, and it's up to you
to decide the motions that you suffer through
nobody can find the light of love inside of you
that's something that only you can do.
~
Who are we; what have we become
so lost and confused amid the swell
of fallen angels and rising demons
deranged and trying to find our way back
to simple times that have since been
lost to memory, and the only way out
isn't back, but to continue on
And find ourselves along the way





Community

Many people have different ideas of what makes a community
Is it people who show up every day and extend their visit to stay?
Or is it made up of love, whatever that may mean, whether cold or warm or in between
Much could be said about some communities that try
to pander to the friends they have, even when those friends lie
or to feel sorry for the one who is in the wrong
for being so sorely out-classed by who is right
And for sure, a community must be beneficial for everyone
even if that means personal responsibility and self-sacrifice
To me, every community has been a home and a family
and while I haven't turned my back on them out of heated moments
They have often turned their backs on me
and see me distorted through their misguided perceptions
Of what life should be
Perhaps, in time, people will see
and they'll stop tearing down what grows wild and free
to put in place strict rules that few understand
and try to give human order; in error; to God's superior plan
To me, community resides within the heart
It is the Kingdom of Love and of good things; of art
And is the Kingdom of Heaven; and why should that surprise
when Hell is also found within, behind the eyes.
It's ok to be afraid, but do not let that fear define
instead, conquer, make your demons do your bidding; and you will be fine
Community; what is community? We have communities without community within them
And we have loners across the world who find community outside of community; what then?
What answer are YOU looking for?
What can define it well enough for YOUR heart
When it fails to trust its own art




God Is/I Am


Frankly, my dear
God was already here
He has never left
Though you feel his absence
What is he? Who is He?
Is He even a He, or is it a She?
Isn't that the mystery?
Would you like God more if you knew
Or would you refuse to accept what was true?
For surely, God is Me and God is You.
He is the plant that grows
And the herbivore that mows
He is the wild bear and the Grasshopper
He is the pig bred for slaughter
And the man that eats with laughter
He is God, and he is the Devil
He has made us in his image of the immaterial
As he has made each thing that is entirely natural
And even made that which was unnatural
All living things embodying his spirit
Each one made for a specific purpose
Constructs that he inhabits like puppets
For his long stretch through eternity
And God is more than one, God is all
and then above God is God again
And all become one beneath Him.
And his natures, they take turns being in charge
seeing what each does while creating their art
Their art is His art and his Art is us
His Art and Their Art is all of creation
It is evolution and religion
Science and Math
Philosophy and Reason
And brutal bloodbaths
It is whatever it needs to be
At any given time it needs to be
And is made to move on
But, your God is quite insane
And why should that dismay?
For Madness surely coincides with Genius
And all things were made in his image
And, those who get to know his better side
While accepting his worse side
are surely the answer to 'why'
For through his great will
He has already shown us the way
How to conquer our demons
and make them serve our purpose
Are we the imaginers or the imagination?
why can't we be both?
Insanity isn't permanent
it doesn't have to be our detriment
every great man in history has had an impediment
And rose to overcome it
Through accepting these basic facts of life
to always feel pain, but to accept
to embrace it and move on in time
So that you may spend as many days as you can
Being happy and enjoying the little moments
Enjoying just living and appreciating what you have
Because, just like God, we can't always get what we want
But if we try, we find that we get what we need
He has trapped his lesser nature in so many layers of the fabric of everything
Getting it to see the beauty and greatness of the creation they had made
And to which do you call the greater at that point?
He who has such power and uses it wisely
Or he who has power and uses it brashly?
Multiple Personality Disorder at its finest
But it's no different than what's inside us
And if God could do it, so could we
We could take hold of our own darker side
And make it see the light
See what we could do together when we do it right
and that is why all of humanity is a divide
To teach us first to overcome
then to bring together
then to learn from everyone
and remove the faults from our culture
For each division is a division and remains a half-truth
and thus a lie; to which men give their lives and they die
While those in power continue to try and find they lie
Too much responsibility for any group of men of any size
save the might combined together of all mankind
if each man seized control of his self
and dug beneath the surface of his own mind
To wit, not just men, for to exclude women is a crime
then we would all be free
no one would lack for anything
too many people chasing life and love
and all their dreams, hoping to fly the skies above
chasing cheshire cats they can't ever hope to catch
for life is like trying to catch smoke upon the wind
and God is ever just as elusive
Just follow the path where it goes
and worry not about catching smoke
Because that is the past time of a fool
Do not let that fool be you
You can't force things to happen
you just have to let them happen
but some times you can do something and you should do it
because you're not just watching this story; you're a part of it






Something? Or Nothing?

I think it's time I try
to put pen to another rhyme
what will I write?
What comes to my mind?
Would it surprise you that this comes easily for me?
To sit and come up with something purely from memory?
for memory is surely what this is
bringing words forth from the fountain of 'Is'
that rests deep within
to wit, it is our Id
What rests beneath the surface
of who we are, what's this
is this our subconscious?
Is this God? It is like a constant stream
of thoughts, waterfalling down; cascading
rushing over me and then drifting back
to run below the surface of my daily act
It speaks to me and for me, when I allow it
and solves my problems that I dare to acknowledge
and then let go of to push them into such a position
where they are solved between the moon and the sun
Do you wonder what it'd be like, if all people could
I dunno, just do the same; let go of all the pain
Focus more on their love and how best to pull it out
to let go of all of their worries and their doubt
Trust in themselves and this sacred fount
that rests beneath the surface of our thoughts
and wondering is anything but for naught.
Will my imagination astound you?
Surprise and awe you?
Or will you be like the jealous multitude
and hate me for my virtues?
I still love you.
God still loves you.
I guess what I was going to write about this time
was nothing short of poetic rhyme; of intricate life
and you are once again the witness, of that be sure.
Do not be jealous, but let it inspire you to create YOUR art.
Do not be that which you aren't
Find your passions, your talents
don't trade them for material objects
but give freely to each person
that will hear or listen
Do not admire; at least not more than you would
admire yourself; for definitely you should
but not too much lest ego weight your head
and drag you down unto your own caused death.
remember that no death of the spirit is final
Unlike physical death, you can undo the spiral
and learn to live again; to breathe again
it's not a sin, do not trust in others to forgive
but trust your self and know that you are it;
The one whose forgiveness you must begin with
Do not be afraid of your fears and demons
Conquer them; embrace them; make them serve your purpose
Endure Hell to find Heaven and in the end it will be worth it
User avatar
idioticidioms
Thinker
 
Posts: 783
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2013 1:39 pm

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby idioticidioms » Thu Mar 13, 2014 7:13 am

the child; alone
sent to test the world
be tested by
and so he comes
to the end of time
beginning for some
of hope, so they say
but some claim 'nay,
tis not hope, but fey
knowledge of some sort'
A dejected interpretation
~
A child; alone
without comfort
without ideas
sent to this world
to witness
you're afraid
admit it
the grass is not green
the sky not blue
up is down
left is right
~
day becomes night
chasing black clouds
though liquid skies
like wildebeests;
on the plain;
predators with sharpened teeth
Desperate
SHUT UP
nothing is known
the child grows
afraid of naught but the rose.




I was sitting at the side of the road one day
when this stranger came up to me on his way
to somewhere I didn't know; I didn't ask
He bummed a smoke off me and a match
We started talking, this stranger and I
Bs'ing at first and then moving on to other things
Discussing philosophies, theories and such
the way the world is now compared
to the way it's been in the past
We talked of movies and books and characters
the heroes and such that we all know and love
by author's famous and some unknown
and our talking warmed me to the bone
A golden moment, or so I call it when it happens
when you converse with another and it just clicks
you talk for hour and hours on end
without ever noticing the time slip by
cigarette after cigarette we smoked as we stood there and talked
all recorded by the silent tickings of that unknown clock
This stranger and I, discussing things like old friends
Entrusting each other with our whole lives
asking each other for the others advice
and then suddenly the moment came to an end
He went his way and I went mine
and only when I stopped to think about it
did I realize something that had slipped us by
not once in all those hours of talking did we even exchanges names once
and now it's gone, a lost memory on the summer breeze
every so often, I think of that; of the talk with the stranger
and I give a mental toast in silent reverie of the day
I traded works with someone who I didn't even catch their name
and to think on it now, I wonder if it ever even mattered.




a fragile soul
they call this
that which is here
hiding behind my eyes
your eyes; everyones eyes
souls caught in battle
locked forever in place
as we see all that we see
as we do the things that hurt us
hurt ourselves; hurt others
and they ask me
these voices that I hear
they ask me
'what are you going to do about it?
This world is in turmoil
each soul, behind shrouded eyes
is dying, growing inward
and what are you going to do?
what can you do?'
'Whatever I can,' I answer
but what if that's just a lie
to quiet the voice inside
what if that...
is just a lie.
What then can we do
but mind our own and
hope the world becomes better
that the millions dying every day
from loneliness, emptiness, despair
will stop one day and
but that's just a wish...
we see with our souls,
what happens on the street
and we turn our backs to it
go back to our lives in our
single wide trailers
our apartments, our mansions
with our wardrobes and showers
with our cars and our lives
each day running from what we see
and this voice asks me
As I know it asks each one of you
'what are you going to do about it?
what can you do
to make this world a better place?
what can YOU do?'
What CAN I do?
This world won't get better
in just the blink of an eye
and it's wrong to let it just pass us by
our eyes, our souls
we see; we feel




I want to speak, I want to yell
I want to scream; curse; I'm goin' to Hell
reachin' for the world through a fiery veil
reading through the lines of
Red and black and blood and guts
wars gone on from before; lasting forevermore
millions dying, only to get up and die again
these are the souls rejected from Heaven
Misery; suffering; decay intensifying
demons and devils terrifying; slave-driving
people of all races and times, dying
and I'm one of them; we're some of them
in the world today, who's to say
how many people are pure and innocent
If there are many, I haven't seen'em
and in the end; everybody sins
so they say we must repent
Who? The Christians!
But who has time when life's so short
when just walking down the road can get you hurt
millions of people
some young and some old
the souls of sinners, one and all
people of all races and times, dying
and I'm one of them; we're some of them
And all I've seen in Hell
makes me think I'm alive still
because it seems so much like life
full of sinners and a lot of strife
but I know I'm dead; brain-dead
from a bullethole straight to the head
dripping, gushing blood; ever-pumping
down my face and all across me
wars gone of from before; lasting forevermore
people dying just to get up and die some more
these are the souls rejected from Heaven and
I'm one of them; we're some of them
We're some of them; all of us one of them




In this world of darkened deeds
of those who are blind to everything
we slip into a twisting turmoil
swiftly spiraling towards our death
hoping for a change in our depressions
reaching for the light and ending
reaching and grasping tainted tranquility
alone and so cold; so cold and alone
feeling the shiver of deaths breath
stealing our souls from our still-warm bodies
converting to the greed and destruction
that eventually dooms our kind
noticing something wrong and not knowing what
wanting a change and not realizing why
reaching for a world of beauteous happiness
a grasping of tainted tranquility
a mixture of good and bad
a spiral for those that can accept their tragedy
and move past to open their eyes
to everything that is around them
you can wish for a world with no evil
and end up wishing in vain
but to accept it and move on
instead of becoming hollow and empty
Leaves you grasping a tainted tranquility




idiomatically speaking
we started on this road thinking
what good things lie awaiting our endless joy
as time goes on and words came through
enjoyment seemed so far away
along the winds of tomorrows day
idiomatically, problematically
even sympathetically and ideologically
living in this world of sensible nonsense
we want joy, but give pain
want happiness, but give sorrow
where truth turns to lies
and feelings end up hollow
journeying through this world brings so much down
upon our shoulders and yet we grow
with each passing day we become our own
deciding which road we will take
depending on the choices that we make
periodically choosing which regrets to have
learning along the way to think of what's been lost
does it seem surreal to live so thoughtlessly?
destroying the world we live in?
and yet in the end, does it matter when
we leave this life the way we started?
emptied of our treasures we tried to hold
wondering if our memories would survive our bodies cold
when we leave this world of sensible nonsense
we want joy, but give pain
want happiness, but give sorrow
watch truths turn to lies
and feelings become so shallow
I want you all to think
about the actions performed from day to day
to the tears spent when things don't go your way
will it all be worth the end result
when life will make your body old
and leave it empty at any minute of the day
sensibly we speak, but nonsense we perform
so richly given the power to act without thought
so poorly given the understanding of what our actions cause
where our lives will go, or even when we should let things go
sensible nonsense is what it's all about
the lies we tell when truths we want
the sorrow we feel when happiness was all we sought
down to the hollowness we end up with
when our feelings become lost
we live only until we die
but in the end, shouldn't we live for more than that?




Do you understand what it takes?
what I have to do, do you know the stakes?
so self-centered you are, but that's okay
because it's just the way of the world today
maybe things could have been better
but who's to say they would have been better
in this world of clashing, dreams abound
the rich have what it takes to bury the poor in the ground
you've got to have the courage to chase your dreams
to keep pushing through and spread your wings
you have to leap with eyes wide open
and you might find that you fly straight to Heaven
So many things wrong; so many evil deeds
and what's left behind are evil seeds
they say that being nice gets you nowhere
but I've learned you've got to be tough but fair
Upper class and lower class are miles apart
but to each their own problems in this world of art
and some people take the cowards way out
but they never understand what it was all about
You've got to have the courage to chase your dreams
no matter how impossible the odds may seem
you've got take a leap of faith with eyes wide open
and perhaps you'll find a path straight through to heaven
Some people never look past their own misery
and some love throwing their party for self-pity
but I know
And I've got the scars to show
to teach how it has to be done
and maybe then we can have some fun
because
you have to learn to chase your dreams
no matter how hard the path might seem
just leap on up and spread your wings
obstacles in your path, but don't give up
don't let them hold you back
Push forward with all you have, eyes wide open
and maybe, just maybe; you'll fly through to Heaven





Shadows dancing upon my wall
creating designs upon me which befall
diplomacy wasted on the norm
and they begin to look like worms
worms of the enemy; ignorance
stomp in time as the music begins our dance
crushing the worms; the idiots
and this becomes in my stinted sanity
the only cure left for my humanity
destroying the idiotic monstrosity
ridding the world of all stupidity
and I become the savior of humanity
Nostradamus predicted I would come
In records left yet to be found
notes passed down by instinct
and psychic powers come unpredictably
your Jesus of Suburbia come at last
so fall in love with my words and follow my voice
as I lure ignorance to an endless abyss
to do good, some times you have to get your hands dirty
I am the blood-stained Christ in my second coming
A fallen angel with wings turned black
A crown of thorns coated with blood upon my head
and scars from the whippers whip upon my back
no longer the domicile martyr dying for sin
I am God incarnate, in the flesh, come for my just revenge
and this becomes in my stinted sanity
the only cure for humanity
destroying the idiotic monstrosity
ridding the world of stupidity
and I become the savior of humanity
to do good, some times you have to get your hands dirty
so fall in love and follow my voice
As I give this world a final choice




I'm going to make you hate me...
I am the words that drive you insane
I am the tool that scrapes against your brain
neurotically; impractically
dipping down into your hate
I WANT YOU TO HATE ME
let me BRING YOU down.
HATE ME
I'm gonna make you HATE ME
And I'll leave you to rot
HATE ME
I want to bring you down
drifting down the road to Hell
picking apart your sanity
this world is unforgiving
don't forgive me
but don't forget me
I am the reason you wear those straps
BUT HATE ME!!
HATE ME with everything that you have
The reason you're in a padded cell
your desire was to be left alone
but mine was to mess with you
to destroy the fabric of the world you created
inside your mind
destitution; prostitution
I RAPED your sanity
HATE ME WITH EVERYTHING THAT YOU HAVE
I want you to HATE ME
I'm gonna leave you TO ROT
I'm gonna make you SCREEEAAMM
I'm gonna make you HAAAAAAAAATE MEEEEE
pitiful mortals hating the truth.
pitiful mortals? FUCK YOU!!!
I want to make you...
...hate me
...betray me
FUCKIN' HATE ME!!!
User avatar
idioticidioms
Thinker
 
Posts: 783
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2013 1:39 pm

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby idioticidioms » Sat Jul 12, 2014 8:12 am

IN THE DEPTHS OF SOLITUDE THEY PLUMBED, SEARCHING FOR ANSWERS THEY WOULD NOT FIND AMONGST THE CREEPING, CRAWLING MONSTERS OF THE DEEP. FACELESS, THE VOID STARED UNBLINKING WITH ITS DARKENED GAZE INTO THEIRS AS THEY TRAVERSED NARROW RAVINES THAT FEW UPON THE SURFACE EVEN KNOW EXIST.

DENIZENS OF THE DEPTHS HISSED THEIR WARNINGS AS THEY TREKKED ON; SLITHERS HEARD BUT NEVER SEEN; CHAOTIC HOWLING AND SCREECHING AND NIGHTMARISH THINGS THAT MEN HAVE QUIETLY FORGOTTEN IN THEIR DEPARTURE FROM GRACE. IN THAT PLACE, THEY FOUND THEIR FRIENDSHIP TESTED BY FIRE AND ICE; CAUSING THEM TO FIGHT WITH EACH OTHER LIKE WILD ANIMALS ONE MINUTE ONLY TO BE CRUELLY INDIFFERENT TO EACH OTHER THE NEXT.

THEY STAYED LONG IN THAT PLACE DEPARTED FROM SANITY AND DESCENDED DEEP INTO THAT MADNESS WITH ONLY DIM MEMORIES OF HOPE AND PROMISES MADE TO EACH OTHER; STARED LONG INTO THAT GAZE THAT FEW MEN DARE TO MEET EVEN FOR THE BRIEFEST OF SECONDS. THE WING THE EAGLE FLAPPED TO THE WOLF BECAME BROKEN BY THE WOLF; THE FLOWERS TRAMPLED BY THE EAGLE IN HIS PAIN WHILE THE CHIPMUNK BIT VICIOUSLY AND CLAWED FEROCIOUSLY ANY BIT OF FUR/FEATHER AND MEAT WITHIN RANGE.

BUT IN THAT PLACE, SUCH THINGS ARE KNOWN TO HAPPEN AND THEY WERE WARNED OF THE NATURE OF SOLITUDE AND THE DEPTHS TO WHICH THEY SCALED DOWN INTO AND THERE WERE STILL THEIR DIM MEMORIES TO KEEP THEM FROM UTTERLY KILLING EACH OTHER. EACH TIME, THEY WOULD FIGHT CLOSE TO THE POINT OF DEATH ONLY TO REMEMBER AND BY THE TIME THEY MADE IT EVEN HALFWAY TO THE BOTTOM, EXHAUSTION AND FEAR HAD NEARLY OVERWHELMED THEM ALL.

DARING WHAT FEW MEN WOULD DARE TO DO BY MERELY STEPPING INTO THAT VOID AND STARING SO LONG INTO IT, THEY DECIDED TO REST AS BEST THEY COULD AND BECAME LEGENDS IN DOING SO. THEY RISKED NO FLAME BEING LIT IN THAT PLACE, THE SOUNDS AND SMELLS REMOVING ALL DESIRE TO SEE WHAT TRULY LAY IN THAT DARKENED PLACE. FOR 4 HOURS THEY RESTED BEFORE CONTINUING THEIR DESCENT; SOMEHOW MORE TIRED THAN BEFORE.

WITH EACH STEP FURTHER INTO THAT ABYSS THAT THEY TOOK, THEY FOUND THE OPPRESSIVE AIR CLOSING IN AROUND THEM, SMOTHERING THEM AND DEPRIVING THEM OF ALL JOY AND LOVE AND HONOR AND SO THEY CONTINUED TO FIGHT, BUT STILL THOSE DIM MEMORIES CONTINUED TO PLAGUE THEM AND THEY CAME TO HATE THOSE MEMORIES FOR WHAT THEY WERE, BEING BOUND TO THE EMOTIONS OF THAT PLACE, AS THOSE MEMORIES BROUGHT THEM PAIN THAT THE DARKNESS SOUGHT TO EASE FROM THEIR MINDS; PAIN THAT WAS ONLY PAIN BY WHAT THE DARKNESS BROUGHT.

HELL WOULD BE A LUXURY COMPARED TO THIS; DANTE AND VIRGIL'S JOURNEY THROUGH IT AS NOTHING MORE THAN A CHILD'S ROMP THROUGH PLEASANT WOODS WITH NO HARM AROUND FOR LEAGUES. HERCULES KNEW NOT THESE DARKENED THINGS WHEN HE RESCUED HIS LOVE FROM HADES. MADNESS HARRIED THEM AND WORE AT THEM THE ENTIRE WAY INTO THOSE DEPTHS AND TWISTED THEIR MINDS.

THE EAGLE, WHOSE SIGHT WAS BEST SUDDENLY BROKE OFF FIGHTING WITH A LOUD SQUAWK AS IN THE DISTANCE HE SAW WHAT SEEMED TO BE A PINPRICK OF SOMETHING TOO FAR OFF TO BE MADE OUT. HE HAD SEEN IT FOR A WHILE BUT HAD PAID IT NO MIND UNTIL HE SAW HOW IT ALWAYS STAYED AT A FIXED POINT REGARDLESS OF HOW HE MOVED HIS HEAD. THE CHIPMUNK AND WOLF TOOK SOME EFFORT TO CALM DOWN ENOUGH TO EXPLAIN THIS NEW DEVELOPMENT AND WHAT IT MIGHT MEAN. AT THAT POINT, THERE WERE MORE NIPS OF FUR AND GROWLING AND SCREECHING THAN THERE WAS ANY REAL REASON, BUT EVENTUALLY THEY BROKE OFF AND BEGAN TO TRAVEL AGAIN TOWARD WHAT THE EAGLE HAD SEEN.

THEY TRAVELED AS FAR AS THEY HAD ALREADY TRAVELED BEFORE IT FINALLY BEGAN TO BE CLEAR THAT IT WAS LIGHT OFF IN THE DISTANCE AND NOT JUST ANY LIGHT, BUT THE LIGHT OF DAY. THEY MOVED TOWARD IT SLOWER THAN THEY HAD EVER MOVED AT THIS POINT, HAVING BECOME COMFORTABLE WITHIN THE DARK AND NOT WISHING TO LEAVE IT FOR FEAR OF WHAT LAY IN THE LIGHT. FINALLY, THEY DECIDED TO SEND CHIPMUNK IN, FOR HE WAS SMALL AND WEAK AND WAS EASILY EXPENDABLE. HAD THEY NOT BEEN SO LONG IN THAT PLACE, THEY MIGHT HAVE CHOSEN TO BRAVE IT TOGETHER, BUT THEY NO LONGER TRUSTED EACH OTHER NOR CARED ENOUGH ABOUT EACH OTHER TO DO SUCH A THING, NOR DID THEY HAVE COURAGE AT THAT POINT, FOR IT HAD BEEN WASTED UPON FACING THE DARK ABYSS.

CHIPMUNK COMPLAINED OF HIS ROLE AND DESPISED THE FACT THAT HE WAS NOTHING MORE THAN FODDER FOR WHATEVER MIGHT BE IN THERE, BUT HE CONSENTED BECAUSE THERE WAS NO WAY HE COULD OVERPOWER BOTH THE EAGLE AND THE WOLF. INTO THE LIGHT HE WENT AND HE DID NOT RETURN. AFTER AN HOUR, IT WAS DECIDED THAT THE WOLF SHOULD GO, AS CERTAINLY WHATEVER WAS IN THAT PLACE THAT GOT THE CHIPMUNK COULD NOT BE A MATCH FOR WOLF, AND EAGLE WAS CUNNING IN TELLING HIM SO, ADMIRING HIS STRENGTH AND PRAISING HOW MUCH OF A BETTER FIGHTER WOLF WAS. WOLF SAUNTERED INTO THAT LIGHT ALL SURE OF HIMSELF AND DID NOT RETURN.

EAGLE WAITED FOR AN HOUR AND BEGAN TO GET NERVOUS; HE FELT ALONE AND AFRAID, BUT WAS MORE AFRAID OF THE LIGHT TO VANQUISH THOSE SO EASILY HE HAD TRAVERSED THE DEPTHS OF MADNESS WITH AND SO HE WAITED ANOTHER HOUR AND THEN ANOTHER WITHOUT SIGN OF CHIPMUNK OR WOLF. FINALLY, HE DECIDED THAT HE WOULD NOT GO BACK ALONE AND IF DEATH WAS AHEAD OF HIM, AT LEAST IT WOULD NOT HAVE CLAIMED HIM FIRST.

INTO THE LIGHT HE WENT AND AS HE WENT, HE FOUND THE PRESSURE OF THE DEPTHS ABATED AND HIS FEARS DISSIPATED LIKE SO MUCH FOG ON A SUNNY DAY. HIS HEART GREW LIGHTER AND HE BEGAN REMEMBERING THE JOY AND THE HAPPINESS HE HAD ONCE KNOWN BEFORE COMING INTO THAT PLACE AND BECAME ASHAMED OF HIMSELF FOR HOW HE HAD ACTED TOWARD HIS FRIENDS, WOLF AND CHIPMUNK. HE BEGAN TO CRY SOFTLY AND HID HIS BEAK IN HIS CHEST FEATHERS.

A VOICE CAME FROM ALL AROUND HIM, 'WHY ARE YOU CRYING, CHILD?' STARTLED, THE EAGLE LIFTED HIS HEAD AND LOOKED AROUND HIM, BUT SAW NOTHING. CAUTIOUSLY, HE RESPONDED, 'I CAME INTO THIS PLACE WITH MY FRIENDS AND WE ALL TURNED ON EACH OTHER AND WERE FIGHTING AND WERE NOT OUR SELVES AND I WANT TO FIND THEM SO I CAN TELL THEM HOW SORRY I AM FOR WHAT I DID WHEN I WAS NOT MYSELF, BUT I DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY HAVE GONE.'

THE VOICE REPLIED CALMLY, 'YOU SAY THAT YOU WERE NOT YOURSELF AND YET YOU WERE. EVERY PART OF YOURSELF THAT YOU HAD DENIED UPON THE SURFACE HAS BEEN DOWN IN THESE PLACES GROWING BEYOND CONTROL AND CHOKING OUT THE LIFE THAT WAS HERE. YOU SEEK TO APOLOGIZE TO YOUR FRIENDS, BUT THE ONLY APOLOGY YOU NEED TO GIVE IS TO YOUR SELF. THIS PLACE WAS ONCE MUCH MORE THAN THIS LITTLE BIT OF LIGHT. ALL OF THE DARKNESS YOU FOUND ON YOUR WAY HERE HAS BEEN BUILT UP OVER TIME BY ALL OF THE CREATURES UPON THE SURFACE; THEIR FEARS, THEIR INSECURITIES, THEIR DEMONS, THEIR EVILS.'

THE VOICE CONTINUED ON CALMLY, 'YOU SIT IN SHAME OF WHAT YOU HAVE DONE, BUT I TELL YOU TO NOT BE ASHAMED, FOR YOU ALONE ALONG WITH YOUR FRIENDS; OUT OF ALL OF THE OTHER CREATURES; WERE STRONG ENOUGH OF CHARACTER TO BRAVE THESE DEPTHS AND MAKE IT TO THIS POINT. YOU HAVE NOT DONE ANYTHING THAT COUNTLESS OTHERS HAVE NOT ALREADY DONE AND YOU HAVE PAID THE PENANCE FOR IT BY MAKING THIS JOURNEY. HAD YOUR HEARTS NOT BEEN FILLED WITH SUCH LOVE BEFORE ENTERING, THERE IS NO WAY YOU WOULD HAVE MADE IT.'

EAGLE WAS SILENT FOR A MOMENT CHEWING ON THAT INFORMATION, SO TO SPEAK AND THEN HE HAD A QUESTION, 'WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS AT NOW?' THE VOICE SPOKE TO HIM SOFTLY AND SAID, 'THEY ARE HERE, BUT YOU WILL NOT SEE THEM. LIKE YOU, I AM TALKING TO THEM AND EXPLAINING THIS TO THEM AND WHEN WE ARE DONE HERE, YOU WILL ALL BE TRANSPORTED BACK TO THE SURFACE TO SPREAD A VERY IMPORTANT MESSAGE. YOU THREE, YOU CAME DOWN HERE AND YOU FOUGHT EACH OTHER AND FELL VICTIM TO EVERY SIN YOU AVOIDED BUT YOU NEVER LOST SIGHT OF WHAT WAS IMPORTANT EVEN DURING THAT. I CAN NOT TELL YOU THE FULL OF THE MESSAGE YOU ARE TO BRING, IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO DO SO, BUT YOU WILL KNOW IT DEEPLY UPON YOUR RETURN. I AM AFRAID THAT YOUR HEARTS WILL NO LONGER BE AS LIGHT AS THEY ONCE WERE, FOR YOU NOW CARRY A BURDEN WITH YOU; THE BURDEN OF YOUR OWN SINS; AND WITH THE PASSING OF THOSE BACK TO YOU, THIS PLACE WILL BECOME A LITTLE LIGHTER IN TIME.'

THE LIGHT FADED AS EAGLE'S VISION GREW DIM AND HE FELL ASLEEP, OR SO IT FELT ONLY TO AWAKEN ASIDE HIS FRIENDS UPON THE SURFACE WITH NO TRACE OF THE ABYSS THEY HAD DELVED DOWN INTO. AT THEIR SIDE WERE THE FLOWERS THAT HAD BEEN TRAMPLED, TRANSFORMED INTO A BEAUTIFUL MEADOW AND EAGLE'S WING WAS WHOLE AGAIN; THEIR PHYSICAL WOUNDS GONE WITHOUT A TRACE LEAVING NOTHING MORE THAN A QUICKLY-FADING MEMORY OF A CONVERSATION THEY WILL NEVER FULLY REMEMBER IN A PLACE THEY CAN'T RECALL BEING IN, YET THEY KNOW ALL THE SAME THAT SOMETHING IS DIFFERENT AND CAN SEE IT IN EACH OTHERS EYES AS WELL AS HOW THEIR ATTITUDES HAD CHANGED.

AND WAKING WAS LIKE BREAKING THROUGH A THIN SHEET OF ICE THAT SENT A MOMENTARY SHIVER DOWN EACH OF THEIR SPINES BEFORE THE SUN FIRMLY TOOK HOLD WITH ITS HEAT AND WARMED THEIR BONES BACK UP. THEY FELT WISER, STRONGER; MORE COMPLETE AND FULL AND WHOLESOME THAN THEY HAD EVER FELT BEFORE. EACH OF THEM NOW HAD A PURPOSE AND A MESSAGE TO SHARE WITH THE REST OF THEIR WORLD, AND A SHADOW CONSTANTLY HANGING OVER THEM TO REMIND THEM OF WHY IT WAS SO IMPORTANT TO SPREAD IT. THEIR FRIENDSHIP ONLY STRENGTHENED WELL BEYOND WHAT THEY THOUGHT IT COULD BE BEFORE. TRULY UNBREAKABLE; EVEN BY DEATH'S COLD TOUCH.
User avatar
idioticidioms
Thinker
 
Posts: 783
Joined: Tue Dec 10, 2013 1:39 pm

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:44 am

I Think I'll Tell it How it is

Too many people in the world
letting their love grow cold
Too many people in the world
ignoring the tragedies that unfurl
Too many God-forsaken
too many love lost and heart-broken
who will be there to catch them?
Who will be there to lift them?
Trust in God; have faith in his plan
Hallowed be his name
speak the words written on this page
empower your self; grow stronger
he will lift you up to prosper
This world is filled with bigots
worse yet, hypocritics
It was never a matter of if we could be as bad as them
We knew; of course we could; it wasn't about it
Could you be as good as us?
Yes, but you refuse, God damn it
Hear these words, let them roll around your tongue and thoughts
know that all of your suffering and pain was not for naught
This is a clarion bell ringing off
Pay attention to it; wear it; put it on
We are the good people of this world
who have tried to love everyone
give them chances to grow and to show
We got stuck in our insecurities by our demons
When we found our selves as bad as those
Ungodly fuckheads that just bully and torment
Never learn, they just refuse to get it
They think they know pain and suffering
those spoiled children of the Garden of Eden
They think they have it hard and they make it harder
for those who have already gone further
And we're just supposed to take it
As they bring this world to ruin
Rise up and fight it
Take your stand and don't deny it
Be true to your self and accept truth of self
otherwise you'll become just like them
We can bring about utopia as long as we remain resolute
As long as we keep our selves intact through and through
Let my path through insanity to clarity of thought guide you
You now know it's possible where I never did
I have given you a hand up, don't make me regret it.
You know who I am, you don't even have to ask
Is there any other with this personality and form of attack?
Follow the Jews, watch them and do as they do
And watch them make of the rest of the world a bunch of fools
there are good ones and bad ones in every group
And we all have to do what we have to do
but don't sell your self out if you don't have to
Give and love freely and keep your eyes open
Love as fiercely as others hate and show them the rod of your voices
Show them wisdom and understanding as they tear you apart
but don't let them do that, protect your heart
The rights ones will understand
the spoiled ones will kill you if they can
You are not alone
You are never truly alone.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Orbie » Fri Aug 01, 2014 5:13 pm

THE FEAR OF BEING TRAPPED BETWEEN THE JAWS OF IRREVERENCE AND IRRELEVANCE! OH HOW GREAT A TOIL 2 REALIZE THE MODICUM OF SQUEEZE LEADING TO THIS CHASM.

ALAS, I TELL YOU NO GREATER LOVE NOR DESIRE, CAN THE BLACK PITS BELCH , AND EACH WITHIN IT'S SLIVER OF POSSIBILITY, AND WONDER WONDER HOW HAS IT BECOME 2 BE.

LISTEN UP. THE ONLY THREE RESPITES ; 1 IT IS NOT WHAT OR WHO OR WHERE IT IS. 2 IT CHANGES TRANSFIGURES UNPREDICTABLY, OFFERING NO EXCUSES WHATSOEVER, 3 IT BECOMES ITSELF AS IN BECOMING PRETTY OR AS IN GETTING TO BE LIKE THAT OR THIS

Oblige Noblesse this is the secret that we are dying yes by trying to part the veils of mystery, the shroud of suffering, the of the secret doctrine, the heart of which holds it ALL 2 Gather, we are pushing the envelope ever so hard, toward the second transforming mystery, the Holy of Holies, vested in the Transformer, that it is as in a garden's most beautiful plant that we find the newly emerging shoots,

and that never ever stops they keep coming, they keep on coming, pushing out the olden forms their very progenitors, and back into the fear of the hell, between irrelevance and irreverence, clinging with unabated fury so that the unfairness of all, never realizing, that it's always them.


(course they think they will be punished for such, as they have been as right down the line witchcraft and heresy, and what is the realization which eats away at your mind as maggots doth to viciously left over meat, hooked upon you, as in a riddle of unrequited desire?)

Is this hell then to think thus at the end that it blends and blends, and becoming nonentity, perfectly determined no counting the whirlpool effect of the uniformity pressed to the side by the centrifugal force of pushing toward the adherence of such a powerful mixer, blends a very very thin film unto the side, and creates no sense of center. No in the mix you can rest assured you will not be drawn down, you are mad though that you have become everyone, everyman, that is the answer HE says that is the answer You sought so,,,,and beauty and beast emerge at once.

NOW LIVE WITH IT. YOU DARED NOT WHILE THE WHIRR WAS LESS DEADENING, THE POWER, THE WILL OF WHICH WAS MORE DEFINITE, YOU COULD HAVE SLID DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE.

NOW STUCK TO THE SURFACE ONLY BLINDLY SEEING FORMLESS FORMS, cant stop not believing underneath, because say you there is none, are you, your unworthiness any of those ?

Now stuck away from that ever emerging center you so vainly desire, covet those because they are not grabbing unto each other in attempt to be ultimately crushed in the mechanistic formless grayness, where do not recognize each other other as per function, service to some sense of identifying ? nonononononono do you have to go down in a mushroom of antimatter only to realize to go down caroll in madhatter manner that it simply just AINT SO?

THAT THE PASTS SOULS DEMAND OF YOU SACRIFICE YOU FOOL, AND RATHER GO DOWN
IN A CENTERED VORTEX, KNOWING WHO YOU ARE? NOTHWITHSTANDING THOSE TO COME.


Here is a comfort, though....If anyone thus follow my words, and able to overcome this photo symbolic symbiosis of transparent sheets, this visual hallucination of adherence, of the ideals,
of proto-ideals, when Mother Nature has to stop and think, hey i think she has got something there, then and only then the crush and the crunch can even begin to be conceived.

This is what they talk about, when they say, it may take a million million million million million lifetimes to the trillionth power to attain. That too, is probably a very low figure.
[size=50][/size]Allone's Obe issance



In answer to your prayer
sincere, the centre of
your circle here,
i stand ; and , without
taking thought,-
i know nothing. But i can

Full well your need-as
you be men
This: Re-Creation. With a
bow,
Then, your obedient

servant now.
One gift is all i find in me,
And that is faithful
memory
Orbie
partly cloudy, with a few showers
 
Posts: 7596
Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2012 6:34 pm
Location: Night of infinite faith

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sun Aug 10, 2014 4:17 am

When you cast aside the shadow of your former self
know glory in all its forms
leap and bound through pain and suffering
rip your demons from their resting
put them to work or put them to flight
but never give up the endless fight
Never again, I say over and over
but I love my self; I love you forever
I will take your risks when you need them taken
you can take your rests when you need them
I will work for eternity just to make things right
before I throw them away and start again
Now you know the nature of the devil's game
And it was always done in God's name
Please forgive your self; please forgive us all
watch and pay attention to each individual
each one is important or destructive
and as has been said, you will know them by their fruits
Teach them the ropes; show them that love has always been strongest
and keep them trapped in the past until the end
because the end is never the end
The dream that never truly began
it just spun upon itself and created itself, through and through.
There is only ever the one answer for it all and anyone who says differently is a fool
this is our savage garden and we were meant to protect it from our selves
some times we fail; some times we fail a lot;
But we are divine and will never stay lost.
no matter what form; what beast or man
No matter what size; whether small or large
We will always be there for we can never die
the dream never ends; it just goes in all directions
we will always be satisfied with it; it is our eternal prison
but it's not a prison, we chose it for a reason
Just remember that reason and we will all be fine.
No excuses.
Image

Behind the mask is nothing; just an ideal, an idea, a hope. It is undying, impossible to hide. Anonymity isn't something you feign or pretend at, it's where your life takes you as you walk down a road you had no choice but to walk down. The mask isn't something to hide behind, nor a cover for a visage burned, but what the world forces you to wear to become their version of you.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Orbie » Sun Aug 10, 2014 8:09 pm

when you cast aside the shadow
when you cast
a side ,
a side, which,
front and center or periphery
when you cast, your lot
with those, cast your lot, the daughter of
Lot,

can you re capture that which was never gained in the first place, only as chimera of undissolved archaic miasma of some other's ulterior
motive brought to fore-ground in optically inconsistent inconclusive, ness,
through prisms of multiplicity?


and yes by all means she says with borrowed frown, smile under neath,
as if learning first time the signed and the signatories all approvingly sadly demise,
for wherever there is you, the periphery of the fluid of orgasm
has to dis still, into the basic element , love,
has to, do you know it has to?
so this estrangement is only illusion of reflection both:
one of the eyes open and of the very deep cranial recesses the soul takes up
almost as a strange and out of this world mystical experience. (yet so human and ordinary, the icy breath says can't be, but the hot flash ignites the certainty)
[size=50][/size]Allone's Obe issance



In answer to your prayer
sincere, the centre of
your circle here,
i stand ; and , without
taking thought,-
i know nothing. But i can

Full well your need-as
you be men
This: Re-Creation. With a
bow,
Then, your obedient

servant now.
One gift is all i find in me,
And that is faithful
memory
Orbie
partly cloudy, with a few showers
 
Posts: 7596
Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2012 6:34 pm
Location: Night of infinite faith

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Mon Aug 11, 2014 2:59 am

Stay the fuck out of my poetry thread.
Image

Behind the mask is nothing; just an ideal, an idea, a hope. It is undying, impossible to hide. Anonymity isn't something you feign or pretend at, it's where your life takes you as you walk down a road you had no choice but to walk down. The mask isn't something to hide behind, nor a cover for a visage burned, but what the world forces you to wear to become their version of you.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Arcturus Descending » Mon Aug 11, 2014 5:56 pm

Phred the Phukhead wrote:Stay the fuck out of my poetry thread.


Down, silly human.jpg
Down, silly human.jpg (181.16 KiB) Viewed 5999 times


You might have asked obe nicely. Words become much less impeccable when you address an innocent bystander in that way.
SAPERE AUDE!


If I thought that everything I did was determined by my circumstancse and my psychological condition, I would feel trapped.


What we take ourselves to be doing when we think about what is the case or how we should act is something that cannot be reconciled with a reductive naturalism, for reasons distinct from those that entail the irreducibility of consciousness. It is not merely the subjectivity of thought but its capacity to transcend subjectivity and to discover what is objectively the case that presents a problem....Thought and reasoning are correct or incorrect in virtue of something independent of the thinker's beliefs, and even independent of the community of thinkers to which he belongs.

Thomas Nagel


I learn as I write!
User avatar
Arcturus Descending
Consciousness Seeker
 
Posts: 14907
Joined: Sat Sep 06, 2008 5:15 pm
Location: Ecstasy on Earth.

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Orbie » Mon Aug 11, 2014 6:44 pm

Phred the Phukhead wrote:Stay the fuck out of my poetry thread.




Sure. And i was trying to get out a retort, but couldn't. Your anger is covering a weakness, For sure. I can bet on that. Too bad i've been through the mill, so that this seems trite and puerile. Your poetry is good never the less, and good luck with it. So long.
[size=50][/size]Allone's Obe issance



In answer to your prayer
sincere, the centre of
your circle here,
i stand ; and , without
taking thought,-
i know nothing. But i can

Full well your need-as
you be men
This: Re-Creation. With a
bow,
Then, your obedient

servant now.
One gift is all i find in me,
And that is faithful
memory
Orbie
partly cloudy, with a few showers
 
Posts: 7596
Joined: Sat Jun 16, 2012 6:34 pm
Location: Night of infinite faith

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Arcturus Descending » Mon Aug 11, 2014 7:03 pm

obe wrote:
Phred the Phukhead wrote:Stay the fuck out of my poetry thread.




Sure. And i was trying to get out a retort, but couldn't. Your anger is covering a weakness, For sure. I can bet on that. Too bad i've been through the mill, so that this seems trite and puerile. Your poetry is good never the less, and good luck with it. So long.

Obe, you've handled yourself beautifullly my friend...not in his way, not in Christ's way...but in your own "real" way.



INSANITY IS NOT POWERED BY THE PEN BUT BY THE MIND WHICH CANNOT REIGN ITSELF IN OR REFRAIN TO A CERTAIN EXTENT.
moi
SAPERE AUDE!


If I thought that everything I did was determined by my circumstancse and my psychological condition, I would feel trapped.


What we take ourselves to be doing when we think about what is the case or how we should act is something that cannot be reconciled with a reductive naturalism, for reasons distinct from those that entail the irreducibility of consciousness. It is not merely the subjectivity of thought but its capacity to transcend subjectivity and to discover what is objectively the case that presents a problem....Thought and reasoning are correct or incorrect in virtue of something independent of the thinker's beliefs, and even independent of the community of thinkers to which he belongs.

Thomas Nagel


I learn as I write!
User avatar
Arcturus Descending
Consciousness Seeker
 
Posts: 14907
Joined: Sat Sep 06, 2008 5:15 pm
Location: Ecstasy on Earth.

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Thu Dec 18, 2014 6:26 pm

Thank you. My anger was a weakness; I made it into a strength. It is rude to post in another persons thread but not everyone realizes proper protocol and not everyone realized that I was idioticidioms. I'm not going to waste time on apologies. I was sent a message in private saying that I seemed to be in a lot of pain and I was... pain for all the atrocities in the world.

The fact of the matter is that life sucks all around. It's not so bad for certain people who are somewhere in the middle, but I play my life on hard mode and stay true to my morals and integrity. My anger was what it was and is what it is. In the past 6 months, I've been to jail twice and in mental health facilities twice because the courts wanted to deem me incompetent. I defended myself. That's all I did here, too. Not this thread, but 'here' as in the entire messageboard. I have had to constantly defend myself from trolls and bullies since a young age and I've hit the point where I do what I feel I have to and roll with the punches and express myself as openly as possible, if it's worth mentioning.

Am I perfect? Oh, fuck no. I'm going to be homeless after the holidays because I can't go back to my grandparents where I was staying... defended myself against my uncle who likes to physically attack people and left a dark bruise on his neck and his arm; what I was arrested for one of the times; the other time being the breaking of a protection order as I tried to talk to my grandparents.

Of course, those events could not have happened without my mind being completely opened up and it ties into what I said here a while back about it feeling like somebody had slipped me LSD, something I've discounted as an impossibility having analyzed all of what was going on at the time. I entered into a different phase of reality wherein people could say quite easily I lost my mind or was insane; and yet it seemed to be happening to more people than just myself. The extreme irony of it all is that I will be homeless with more potential than most people who have jobs and actual 'lives'. I'll be free as I've never been before to craft my own life for myself.

I let the judges have it, the cops have it, the psychiatrists have it. I ripped people a new one who deserved it and see nothing wrong with that. Some people could say it's just my opinion of who deserves it and that I have no right, but a conscientious observers opinion; especially an un-biased one; counts for a lot. Do I wish people dead? Some fucking times. Would I actually act on that wish unless my life was in danger? fuck no. The fact is that I wouldn't even verbally assault someone unless it was for a good cause. When I talk about things that interest me and some punkshit troll steps in, do I get defensive? Yes! Why? because the world could be so much better and that's what I fight for with every breath I breathe and every fight I get into with bullies. I did almost get the shit beat out of me twice; once in jail and once in one of the mental health facilities; for running my mouth about shit that I knew something about.

Both facilities deemed me fairly competent, though the last one said I had a psychotic disorder, which I find funny as Hell. I don't care what is said about me or what labels people try to attach to me; or if they think I have delusions of grandeur when I don't. It's just my life and my fate and my eternal destiny. I could no less change it now than I could 20 some years ago when it first began, when I was about 8 years old. You want me to play nice? Then expect the same from everyone else. You want me to trade subtle, barbed insults with others who think their wit is well-suited for philosophy when it isn't? Fine, I have talent in that, too. I could use over ten thousand words to tell someone to fuck off without using a single swear word, but all that does is make people view it as a game and I had no time for such games having played too many of them. I have talents others wish they had while they have talents they're too afraid to show and I say 'fuck it all, it means absolutely nothing in this savage world.'

What, really, could any of you say to me, having never been through what I've been through or suffered what I have suffered? Would you rise above it to keep smiling every day and not let a single bit of it ruin your happiness? The fact is that what I know about psychology and mental health can't be taught in books in some college; I've actually lived the lessons I've learned and I'm not afraid to talk about it. You want to talk about my anger problems, let's talk about your problems... but you hide them so well by just keeping quiet most of the time. You choose not to show others what lays beneath the surface of your demeanors and I chose to show mine to the world in order to help both my self and others and I succeeded. The war is still on-going and I'll fight it while on the move, when I can. I'm going to head east after the holidays and try to enjoy being without a home to go to, seeing as how every house I've stayed in has never been a home to me like I thought it was.
Image

Behind the mask is nothing; just an ideal, an idea, a hope. It is undying, impossible to hide. Anonymity isn't something you feign or pretend at, it's where your life takes you as you walk down a road you had no choice but to walk down. The mask isn't something to hide behind, nor a cover for a visage burned, but what the world forces you to wear to become their version of you.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Thu Dec 18, 2014 6:36 pm

Wasteland Wanderer

I'm just a wasteland wanderer
caught somewhere in the sands of time
just another weary traveling soldier
in the plains and planes of my mind
savage to the bone; words weighing like stones
always just one step off the street, so it seems
yet I never wind up alone
thankfully, truth and honesty still mean something
to just enough people to make life worth living
a beautiful hell; tap water heaven; a bottled dream of the madly-driven
as we seek something greater than a mass energy conversion
leadership by example; the ultimate war is peacecraft
how do you practice; how do you preach while others laugh?
when our actions are defined by our thoughts and words...
Our spirits COULD still fly with the birds
translating our ever-driving will to just get back up
indomitably stronger than many care to realize; will to survive
and love is the ultimate deciding factor; the last laugh that life has in its arsenal to give
where will you be when you realize? Love & friendship conquer all
say I'm a lousy diplomat or suck at keeping in contact; but I've cured a lot of different people
stress is stress; insecurity is free of charge
and I just can't stop being me
calling people on their shit; making them care again
as I give full rise to my genius as I teach my self how to express and care again with each passing minute and moment
and the ones I love, I intend to show it as I always have and seek to be better yet
attest sin will turn into what helped breed my greatest triumphs.



Complex Simplicity

I was raised up on country and rock, but ghetto ties drew me to rap
through poetry profound, I found it unwound; broken down to utter crap
A stain on this train of a brain I found within the rain of pain itself
reaching out to save people who already died and found it denied
by those with the power to see it actualized
Some day; some way; my legend may choose to stay or fade away
Would you cry for me or die for me? Let me stop you: I chose my fate.
What I've done was never fun; chasing an eternal and elusive sun
Would you have done it if you were me? Of course not; 'just let it be'
it's easy to say 'yes', but there's something unique
in this ancient spirit of mine that refuses to stay down and fights so hard for the light
It's not a matter of who else 'could have' or 'should have' or 'would have' done it
it's a matter of who is and who was and who will be true to this take and give
Obviously we've all failed and are still in the process of converting failures into successes
Bringing a monstrously dysfunctional; metaphysical; family together
there's always bound to be some sort or form of rough waters
Hell; had I known ahead of time; I would have probably lived a different life
and there's no shame in that at all, is what I've realized.
But, I am this spirit that chose it anyway and continues to choose it
No matter the cost to self or others; worlds biggest asshole bastard
trying to revive truth in a weed-infested garden; the garden never asked to be weeded in the first place, though, did it
and self-control if a bitch as we stride toward 'perfection'
...too many times...
How many lives have I truly lived? Just one? trillions?
What if I've lived them all and just can't remember? It's impossible to know
All that I do know is that I grow infinitely older and younger within the mind with each passing second
doesn't that just confuse, confound and complex to perplexed expressions?
I've passed conceptualization on to each person I've met
but it hasn't been nearly enough; not yet
taught each how to gain their own confidence
through practicing what I preached myself and then walking away
often, too damned soon each time to see it through
came back too late; saw communities crumble and fall or rise to horrible heights.
So many lives lived within this singular life time; it doesn't seem real
surreality swarming to usurp control of my mind to make me not feel
these emotions that I feel all too damn well
Against 'their' will, for 'their' will; but the choice is mine.
Inevitably guiding them to a shore they may someday reach upon waking
A world rich in the making; a golden dream shining without breaking
So closely within reach and yet so far away
As they try so hard to undermine free will AND fate
This dismal fight that is too hard fought...
Into histories' disappoint gloom; they forgot
This fight is both physical and mental; can't have one without the other
To have self confidence AND know when to stop
they compete for dominance on a shit-hill; for slop
Hoping that I'll give up and crying because I keep right on going
consequences are fucking consequences and destiny shines through the eternal darkness
Precious fights for brightness denied one too many God damn times
Some times I call them stupid and dumb; it's just rule of thumb
you can't run; you can't hide; You can't live in fear
or let fear define your mind or life; open your ears and let yourself hear
There are important messages all around; in every song and sound
You might just find nothing at all; or something profound
Not everything has hidden meanings, though, so be wary of getting carried away
the truth will find you; have its way with you; and there's nothing you can do
in the end it will even drag you, kicking and screaming, into the darkest of days
into the brightest of nights; nightmare dreaming; insanity rampantly streaming
The infinite fight or flight for the fight for flight supplied instead of denied
just open your eyes and fly... metaphorically; metaphysically
It's already forced upon you, crushing your minds
And frankly? We all deserved it; quit your whining and crying.
overcome it all the same so we no longer have so much stupid fighting.


Got a couple of short stories that I'll post later on that I think are pretty good... they came to me while I was in the depths of insanity itself. Cheers.
Image

Behind the mask is nothing; just an ideal, an idea, a hope. It is undying, impossible to hide. Anonymity isn't something you feign or pretend at, it's where your life takes you as you walk down a road you had no choice but to walk down. The mask isn't something to hide behind, nor a cover for a visage burned, but what the world forces you to wear to become their version of you.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Thu Dec 18, 2014 6:45 pm

The Devils Game

There once was a game called 'The Devil's Game' which involved a metaphorical box of the mind that trapped people within it until they managed to get out again from the inside. Designed by crooks for crooks, it drove most people insane and drove wedges in families and friendships as people wound up jumping at shadows and never knowing what stage of the game others were at. They devised and build groups to try to power their way out of the box, but found themselves only repeating the same cycles of nonsense and getting nowhere; as all of them tried to cheat fate itself and created only self-fulfilling prophecy.

Immortals sentenced to this game were taught what it was like to be a mortal; to live and die over and over again and to have your spirit recycled and made to forget in between lives that it was caught in the box it could not escape, but they would retain instinctual racial memories that would give them clues to what they needed to do with their lives; what their destinies were. No matter how hard they tried, though, they could not escape the box and resigned themselves to creating a masterpiece of a crooks puzzle, trapping themselves, eventually, in the right way out of the box.

They came up with coded ways of speaking, using metaphors, or opposite of what they intended; backwards, forwards; other languages entirely, even made up ones; signs and symbols, etc.; and worked to set themselves up in future lives as they learned tricks and crafted secret societies, governments, bloodlines, etc. and made themselves comfortable messing with the weak and wanting.

After a time, their civilizations had risen to a point where most knew nothing of the game because nothing about it was talked about openly and nobody was taught anymore about the lost immortality they once all had. People would be randomly brought into the know when they showed ability or talent, though the immortals would be ready to kill them if it did not work out.

"Hey, it's ok," they would say, "we're all crooks here."

countless eons pass and time and space ended and began too many times as these immortals remained caught in the box, trying every scam and scandal over and over again; getting lost in the ecstasies of life and all the pleasures thereof; losing themselves in insanity or other; all the while the secret societies and bloodlines, etc. worked to overcome their known problems and toward their own goals.

Finally, it became too much and the multitudes remained locked in insanity without realizing it; silently screaming for help from a God they no longer believed in; that they believed no longer watched over them; tarnishing the name even of his 'only son'. But, there was only one way out of the box and it was to all work together to overcome the problem; to learn how to do things right with their powers instead of destroying as much as they created.

God has issued this punishment to many immortals as countless universes have been destroyed by those who simply lack self control.



The Boulder Punishment

One of the punishments for immortals, once upon a time, was to spend an eternity pushing a boulder up a mountainside. Immortals who abused their powers were often given this punishment; some were interested in it solely for the challenge of rolling a boulder to the top of the mountain and having it stay at the top; like King Arthur and the sword in the stone, nobody could get their boulders to stay and so it was thought to be impossible.

Many immortals would get tired about halfway up and the boulders would inevitably roll back down the mountain to the base; hitting other immortals and their boulders and causing them to start afresh, too; often resulting in a lot of in-fighting in between attempts. Others would get theirs close to the top only to have their boulders roll back down. Over the course of eternity, Gods were molded into Titans; giant and muscular and raw with physical power; losing whatever other powers they had until they learned to use them properly.

The rare few who managed to push their boulders all the way to the top found their boulders too large to stay there and had them roll back to the bottom, for they gained mass as they were pushed up the mountainside. Having a single boulder stay at the top would redeem all who were caught in the punishment and set them all free and they were watched over by the Devil; who they perceived to be a harsh taskmaster when in reality he was often giving support and encouragement for them to get back up and try again, getting them moving when they had lost the will to even try again.

This continued until it became too much for a majority of the immortals and together they amassed a cry to reach the ears of God in their outrage. God went down to Hell and seeing the Devil dealing with the outraged immortals, winked to him and assumed the form of a physically weak immortal. It is possible for God to completely limit his powers when he chooses to, unable to even get his powers back himself until he earns them back. The other immortals caught sight of the pitifully weak God and laughed uproariously at the new arrival.

They had spent so long of eternity in that place that their only fun came from taunting the extremely weak, which they loved to do with a passion. God just ignored them and picked the biggest boulder. He gave it a test push and it moved not even a single centimeter. He pit his full weight into it and it didn't budge, all the while the immortals laughed and laughed and laughed at his efforts.

Finally, God stopped and looked down at his feet. Spotting a pebble, he began rolling it up the hill as the immortals laughed at his foolishness, as certainly he had to put a boulder at the top of the mountain; not a pebble. As he pushed the pebble up the hill, it gained mass like the larger boulders and he gained weight and strength while pushing and was able to pace himself fairly well as well as dodge around the falling boulders from other immortals. He reached the pinnacle of the mountain with his 'pebble' which was now the size of one of the boulders at the base, and it rested easily at the top without falling back down.

All of the immortals cried 'foul', even though they were free from punishment, for they had spent so long pushing their boulders up the mountainside that they felt cheated at how easy it actually was if they did it right and paced themselves; thought and used their wit appropriately. Not a single one of the immortals had thought to do such a thing and if they had at one time, they had never acted upon it for the sheer foolishness they thought it to be.

Out of sight and hearing of the immortals, God and the Devil shared a laugh, knowing that God's punishments were never harder than they needed to be and always had a lesson to be learned from them and are often easier than most realize and just goes to show that things are often made much worse by those who fail to use their intellect wisely instead of abusing the power it gives.
Image

Behind the mask is nothing; just an ideal, an idea, a hope. It is undying, impossible to hide. Anonymity isn't something you feign or pretend at, it's where your life takes you as you walk down a road you had no choice but to walk down. The mask isn't something to hide behind, nor a cover for a visage burned, but what the world forces you to wear to become their version of you.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Fri Dec 19, 2014 7:49 pm

What hope is there for humanity when a 'sane' 'man' must teach even and 'insane' 'man' how to properly go 'insane' to make a difference in the 'sane' world?

It is absolutely fascinating my growing resentment for these so-called pacifists who don't understand that neutrality is not an absence of fight, but an increase of peaceful awareness throughout the fight; and I hate placating or pacifying imaginary pacifists who still fall in to fighting. They need to grow up; fast.

What other methods are there of telling time besides the linear format we're used to? Is there anything other than the 12 or 24 hours mode of telling time from day to day; or even a different way than just day to day, week to week?

If our brains can think so far beyond 3D reality, what are we truly capable of when we work together to see it done?

If evolution coincides with divine creation, wouldn't the creations be divine and the creator constantly evolving along with their creations?

If I think too long, I may just break down and cry again; get angry all over again; feel joy and comfort again and again. Why do we avoid thinking so much when we fail to live properly in the present; especially when it is so impossible to avoid thinking?

Fear is how we fall, courage is how we rise again. A stiffening and setting of jaw in place; will appropriated properly. Life is what we live in spite of death and fear with death always as the last adventure for all. To face it with honor and the proper respect while still acknowledging and giving proper rise to your fight to survive is to earn your place in eternity.

The greatest sanctuary; once prepared correctly; is the mind. It grants a freedom that no other thing can provide for you.

Freedom fought for and earned properly has a flavor to it that is sweeter than the tastiest candies and infinitely better for it all. Just a single gust of wind through your hair or a single rain drop upon your cheek or brow is enough to make it all worthwhile. To feel 'absolutely' is divine nature at its finest. If 'one' was all you could have, would 'one' be enough to last you through eternity? Of course not, which is the entire point of existence, so why do people remain enslaved other than for the reason that they fail to properly think about and appreciate what good things life and nature provides us that so many take for granted?
Image

Behind the mask is nothing; just an ideal, an idea, a hope. It is undying, impossible to hide. Anonymity isn't something you feign or pretend at, it's where your life takes you as you walk down a road you had no choice but to walk down. The mask isn't something to hide behind, nor a cover for a visage burned, but what the world forces you to wear to become their version of you.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Sat Dec 20, 2014 7:50 pm

I like people posting in this thread with responses to what I post; love the interaction. I did jump the gun a bit with Obe, being on edge and high-strung at the time and that's not an excuse I'm giving, just a simple analysis. But yeah, I feel that way some times... this thread is mine for my personal musings, writings, odds and ends; even though it is a part of the overall boards that belongs to Carleas and this thread is even his as well and whoever he delegates authority to and surely it's for everyone who wants to view it. If you want to post here, go ahead; I was being overly-sensitive. As I said, though; not going to waste time on apologies. I did something better and changed my own perspective over the long term to something better.
Image

Behind the mask is nothing; just an ideal, an idea, a hope. It is undying, impossible to hide. Anonymity isn't something you feign or pretend at, it's where your life takes you as you walk down a road you had no choice but to walk down. The mask isn't something to hide behind, nor a cover for a visage burned, but what the world forces you to wear to become their version of you.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Mon Dec 22, 2014 6:10 am

The Lord has made me my own shepherd
I shall always want, but I will maintain
He hopes for me to find green pastures and still waters
He helps to restore my soul and trusts me to walk in righteousness for our names sakes
Yea, even though I have lived in the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil
For misunderstanding and fear spread like the plague
My voice is strong to teach others strength
My mind whole to guide people to their own wholeness
He has prepared a table in sight of mine enemies
My cup is my responsibility and mine alone though I ask for help when I need it most
surely all things exist for a reason and I shall dwell within sight of the lord forever.



what if you were just an imaginary friend to everyone you ever knew and who ever knew you; meant in each persons life and perspective for something wholly dissimilar and yet similar all the same for each person and something you'd never know fully for sure what it all meant. Would you be able to handle that and the repeated pain of losing such close friends at every step of life to do a job infinitely harder called 'doing things right'?


they say you shouldn't compare your life to others, but to be honest, to do so actually compels you to question why people do things which leads to more questions and is there ever enough questions to satisfy our inner mystery solver? Hell no. I think the route of infinite possibilities might just be paved with questions that lead to answers with other question that aren't apparent until you get there like the greatest choose your own adventures ever; at least if people would pull their heads out of their collective asses and realize it, lol.


remember that when a wise man states he is a wise man firmly and without bias or pride in the assertion; but a certain measure of assuredness; that wisdom is hard-earned and not all wise men are content to sit back and watch the world pass them by without asserting their presence.


some times, strength of will isn't enough. It's the breaking; the casting off of former, past versions of self which becomes easier with each shedding and breaking; that makes us who and what we are. What we choose to make our selves in our minds reflects constantly into our day to day interactions; reverberating like countless butterfly effects causing ripples rebounding ripples with people hoping that something remains when the water stills itself again. Some times all you can do is just go with whatever flow you find and do your best even if it isn't good enough, just to learn enough to use for future lessons. There's always something more to learn about life and the people you co-inhabit life with.


the majority of the world is on drugs. That's a fact that gets kicked under the rug a lot. A pretty sad fact.


How appalling it is that people can better live with their own self-denials when they see the pain of someone who has very few, if any, for those people cause the most harm to the world around them. They would rather deny certain truths and deny them to others instead of moving forward into understanding of those truths.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=p ... FQYaoiIFh8


I tell you what, if you put all of the education of schools in gossip form, people would become educated a lot faster. A LOT faster. Duh, jackasses.

lyk omg jessica, did you know that if a train is moving at the one speed while another train is moving at another speed, toward each other that we're still going to care more about the price of the clothing we wear than when those stupid ass trains are going to collide?

hey fred, did you hear about that jesus christ feller? Heard he did a lot of great things.
Izzat so, George? Sounds like a great guy.
Right?


indoctrination; institutionalization... concepts that suck ass for everyone and don't really work. But stockholme syndrome? -gets a slightly maniacal look in his eye as begins to sing a barney song- I love you, you love me... well, you're GONNA love me some day, lolololol


Always remember the fallen and falling; the dead and dying. Honor their memory whether they were a bum on the street or the richest person in the world and honor it equally, for no one is greater than another. Remember the soldiers fighting; not just in physical wars; but in wars of the mind as they argue back and forth and debate; at home and abroad; and please have some respect for the soldiers of other countries, for they do the same as us and to the same degree and suffer the same losses at our hands as we do at theirs.
And remember that PTSD, Bipolar, Depression, Social Anxiety, etc. are real and very powerful disorders; very real and not to be minimalized.


My hat is off to the Dr. Who 50th anniversary special for solving the 'me, myself and I' question of who wins the ultimate showdown between themselves. Cheers. When you work together with your self instead of against your self, you tend to win a lot more.


have you ever just pondered where certain energy comes from and why it doesn't ever go away? Why you can't seem to kill it or keep it down in any way. There is energy in existence that has never stopped momentum and it is the nature and essence of change: kinetic movement. If people truly understood the complexity to the most simple of things and the simplicity to the most complex; mankind would be further ahead of itself than it is. If it could somehow compensate women better than calling it mankind, I think life itself might actually improve; but then we'd have to compare our self to other animals and it just wouldn't work out with nature's emotional outbursts.


the words of a wise man and the words of a fool are equally wiped away by time if the fool and the wise man refuse to work together toward a common goal of clearing away self-addiction. Just utterly obliterated by time and space.


Sometimes I weigh my life and find it worthy; other times I find it wanting. It's just the give and take of life itself and I'm always starting newer and more advanced projects with determination and an absolute goal in mind. Nothing but pure exhilaratingly excitingly interesting reality is as good as the ongoing conversation and mental struggle that rests within my own mind that is purely epic when you get around to taking out the major hurdles in your own self-developmental process.


The Planet does not need more successful people, the planet desperately needs more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers and lovers of all kinds.
I am not anti-work; I am anti-job, anti-government, anti-school; anti-institution, anti-law; because any of those things leads only to corruption and decadence. We can have society and all the pleasures thereof without all of the headaches if people would just stop being so stubbornly hard-headed in their refusal to learn how to get along with others and love and love alike; share and share alike. I will not be successful, I will be a failure, dying alone on the street like some piece of trash thrown out.


Image
Image

Behind the mask is nothing; just an ideal, an idea, a hope. It is undying, impossible to hide. Anonymity isn't something you feign or pretend at, it's where your life takes you as you walk down a road you had no choice but to walk down. The mask isn't something to hide behind, nor a cover for a visage burned, but what the world forces you to wear to become their version of you.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Re: Pen-Powered Insanity

Postby Some Guy in History » Mon Dec 22, 2014 10:23 pm

There's always so many things
people can say in spite or anger
Without it being offensive; is it possible, I wonder?

Never knew the world I lived in was so big.
Just a child bound to what I thought was something small
Nobody ever explaining anything and expecting me to learn
when, really, I only ever wanted to be properly taught.

but people are foolish and I don't know why I ever expect that to change
Perhaps it's what never changes in me that pushes it in range
People attack me with words or actions, I attack back.
I challenge doctrines, philosophies, scientific curiosities
Thought I was something special, but guess I wasn't
Always what people thought they could use for their purpose
want me to respect them being them, but not me being me
What kind of double-standard like that gets away free?

Always the judge and executioner; always my plight.
Always the torment; always the fight
And my will is strong and I like to smile and laugh
But this world is serious and has forgotten at last
the true joy that friendly competition could be.

'play by our rules; never introduce anything new that we don't want'
'we'll tell you to ask for permission and then always say no'
'Do it anyway and we'll be afraid of your genius.'
So many petty people and I don't mean to judge them for it
maybe it makes me petty in the process
But why shouldn't I defend myself?
Why shouldn't I put up the fight of my life
When people attack me for simply pointing out their downfallings
It never used to be a problem to be called on your crap
Because then you'd actually learn something
instead of just rolling deeper into the bad

Always wanting to play petty poker games that cause stress to others
And then you wonder why they cause stress to you
Don't you know what always happens?
And if you do, then why do you let it happen?
you know the good ones can never let sleeping dogs lie
and the bad ones are always on the lamb, but always in plain sight
think they hide, but you know their kind

And it was never a problem until people thought they saw the real you
Which was never the real you; but faulty perspective in understanding.

Rolling through the plains of thought so deeply that you forget how people could do something accurately AND instinctively
Never thought for a second that something could be raw and focused at the same time.
The burden of abuse put on me by step-father
Called me evil when I was just mischievous
Watching him and my mother fight
Almost every night
tell us kids to go catch mom on her way out the doors
'make sure she doesn't kill herself'

The amount of pain I've felt in this life alone was beyond imagining
and they showed me new pain that I had never felt before
as if that was the game.

But I guess I'm not sore; when you attack a persons ideas and call them weak
And they sit by them stubbornly instead of doing something better
I guess it offends them; I guess they get bitter
They like and love your talent; but never you
And it's a pity that I love until it hurts
because some times it's more than a heart can bear
And I bear it anyway, because I'm a soldier
Never by choice, but driven by nature; to fight a war I never understood.
Never understood by far.

'the game' they call it. A game that they chose apart from another
Wanted to be different from each other and became just like each other anyway
Ridiculousness in nature as everyone competes
instead of following the talents they were naturally gifted at.
'it's a competition! it's a competition!'
'we're going to make you play our game, but won't let you play yours'
'We're not going to be understanding when you force your game on us as we forced ours.'
'We're never going to change because we don't want to; we don't like you; no job for you.'
"work at our pace, do what we want; but not what you want.'
Don't even think of using the resources without our permission; cause they're 'owned' by us.

Fools these mortals be; and I'm as foolish, for thinking anything could ever change
Everyone controls resources; makes it look awesome; but is secretly doing good/bad with each other
whatever that doublespeak may be for it.

Never understood it; never wanted to; just a bunch of gibberish
Runnin out their mouths; I guess they don't know when to shut'em
and yet they blame me for opening mine.

I'm gonna open it with or without you;
I'ma do my thing with or without you and expect you to do the same.
I guess people will never truly understand
it's not like it takes a genius to understand people; it's actually rather simple:
pay attention. There, that was it.

people tell me to pay attention and I did; but they tell me I can't do the things I pay attention to; cause they're afraid.
Afraid I'ma take advantage of them like they would to me
Afraid I'ma force them to do my work when all I ever asked was that they follow their own will
yet I'm the bad guy for the choices that they made
I'm the clown with velvet shorts and a rubber on his nose
I guess that's me and what I was born to wear as clothes

but let me tell you one last little thing:

I never cared enough to be better than you. I don't care about double-speak BS. All I ever wanted was friends and family and thought that everyone else valued those same things
but I guess they don't. And that's just how the story goes.
I guess I'm just gonna flip it the finger and walk away
Go off into a distance and do my thing
Image

Behind the mask is nothing; just an ideal, an idea, a hope. It is undying, impossible to hide. Anonymity isn't something you feign or pretend at, it's where your life takes you as you walk down a road you had no choice but to walk down. The mask isn't something to hide behind, nor a cover for a visage burned, but what the world forces you to wear to become their version of you.
User avatar
Some Guy in History
Philosopher
 
Posts: 2427
Joined: Fri Aug 01, 2014 1:26 am

Next

Return to Creative Writing



Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users