Month: February 2014

I just wish I wasn’t so awkward. I’ve had my share, a good share, of opportunities to make friends. If only I were more captivating, if only people wanted to talk to me as much as I wanted to talk to people. My problem is I’ve been so introverted all my life, saving my potential up for now, when I deemed it to matter so long ago, that I’ve lost the key. I can’t unlock myself, instead I channel all of my energy towards my appearance. I’m afraid to say it, I fear that I’ve lost myself for good. 

I always talked about how much I hated high school but I never anticipated the melancholy that would succeed it. I miss being known and being surrounded by people I know. I’m also jealous of everybody starting anew while I’m stuck here hanging on to what could have been. I did make some changes, I watched my best friends slip away and I did nothing about it. One still kills me whenever I think of her, one I’m happy for doing so. Sure I’ll miss her but I won’t miss the feeling of inferiority I won’t miss her immaturity or her know it all attitude I won’t miss how empty her promises were. I’ll still cringe when people talk about her but not necessarily because I miss her but because I want everybody to know just what kind of a manipulative person she really is. Everything in it’s own time. This I can be proud of, as for the other she really is lost and I pray to God everyday that she finds her way back. I’ll work out the rest on my own, but knowing that I made this change, this big change that I’ve feared since I met her, this change will fuel my journey; consider this stage 1. 

Ask me if I’m happy and I’ll reply “I haven’t got that far yet”; as in happiness is something you have to learn how to be. Rarely is it something you’re born with because there is too much happening in the world for your happiness to go untarnished. So am I happy, to that I say “I’m learning” 

Manqué

I see a _______ where my passion was once. A _______ that could have took me far past all of the misery in the world and let me _______. Impeccably artificial of a _______ is what I’m left with. Promise me that you will always do what you can to connect, to communicate don’t leave anything where it feels _______ to keep it. Leave nothing but secrets a secret. Please, if you want to let your thoughts, your feelings, your _______ be known, then act upon it. Heed if you like but communication is a skill which does not linger where it is not _______. Be who you can and never leave your _______ in the hands of another. I realize just how fragmented this warning is but I wish for everybody to be able to complete it for themselves not because _______ but because I no longer posses the skills to be able to. Writer’s block is not limited to writing.

Victim of Addiction

A Tyrant I am,

I perch on my throne

And prop my feet upon a tangible euphoria.

I heed as my sheep file out before me,

Only to be rammed just hard enough to plummet into the inky sky.

I wheeze and laugh and wheeze

As I witness the cruelty of a tyrant named Myrnin.

Black in the distance.  

A merchant I am,

Living in a poppy seed

And selling wool to the sheep;

Sheep, with wide warning eyes.

Ah, but there shan’t be fear in my Kingdom

He comes to visit,

Attempting to engulf me,

Black, I won’t let him win.

A thief I am,

I do what I must to stay alive.

Tonight I dine upon poppy seeds,

Stripped away from the merchant.

The last sheep falls forth into the sky

Whilst calling my name.

Too late my poor sheep,

He is here, he has one.

Black, all around. 

Othello

Green eyed monster, grotesque, so strangely beautiful,

You are anything but.

Your aura chants “humanity” but a human instinct,

You are anything but.

Monstrous you make me, corruption you feed me.

Oh I hate what I’ve become,

 I hate the green of my eyes.

You tortured my innocence,

You thrived off my purity,

And now I’m lost,

You lost, we lost,

We, a team, inseparable you are from me now.

Oh what I’ve become. 

My Trip to the Sun

July 6th 2012 will stay with me until the day I am no longer with myself. I went on a trip, a trip within a trip. The first, to Victoria Park to meet with my captain, he gave me my ticket and I was off. At first everything was the same until I came to realise the peace that I felt, with myself, yes, but mostly with nature; everything around me was so vibrant and I was just so happy, my God was I ever happy. I knew I couldn’t go home like this and that’s when the panic began to creep forth and if you ever find a feeling worse than anxiety, the type that wraps around you like a cocoon, the type that constricts your every movement and feeds off your thirst for air, then let me know. A look into the setting sun calmed me; it was such a beautiful day. Nobody saw what I saw, the daylight was so good to me and the sweet scent of the sunlight was something I would never forget. Night fell and I rose, I drifted, my trip took a detour and I found myself in a dark car that tasted like coolness, it tasted like desire but it was not where I wanted to be. I wanted to go back to my place in the sun, I wanted to climb the ladder that put me above all the sadness I have ever felt, I was so high it was insignificant the past was just that, insignificant. The atmosphere in the car had a name, Alex and he was the driver now. There was a song playing it was about the summertime and it brought momentary comfort but it kept playing it was the same song playing and it would not stop playing. The darkness peaked through, he saw me looking, he saw my fear and even that split second of terror was enough for him, he settled in and he would never leave. The night went on and I arrived at a little yellow house that glowed like the sun but with a sinister twist. It wasn’t the uplifting yellow that held me above my thoughts, not the yellow that left my clouds behind, it was new. The yellow of the house was the yellow of a warning, the sun, my sun, was crying. I went on and I was about to land but instead I drank. It was fuel for my trip and so the visits began. First I saw the gates of hell opening and so I prayed to the God I so wrongly neglected and I swear to you I have never known fear until that instant. The sweat that rolled off my forehead coalesced and formed around me a cocoon and slowly but ever so surely the cocoon was absorbing and I was dying.  I saw a star shaped like the sun; no longer was I afraid and my sweat returned to its beaded form and it sunk back into my face threatening to reform at the slightest disturbance, and I knew better than to test him. I stayed where I was and so came forth Law. He rode with Law in a chariot heading towards the sun. The chariot blinked with red and blue lights and the horse pulling the chariot was anything but a horse. It was a skull glistening in the lights that shone behind him and when he drove past me time slowed and I could not pull my eyes away, he whispered that if I wanted freedom, now was the time but I saw a familiar glint in his eyes and I knew better than to trust him. He left and I left. Loneliness began to sink in so I moved towards the buzz of the crowd, I held on to the rope that the sound formed and found myself coughing up smoke but I saw my sun. Another puff and my ladder came forth, one puff too many and I started moving backwards and found myself staring him right in the eye. He secluded me and my loneliness revisited. He set me on the ground and told me to find my star and that if I could find it, I would be free but first he took a flame and set fire to the sky. I looked away because the heat began to reform the beads that constrict. When he was done the ashes fell from the sky like tears with no life left in them, and as for the stars, they were gone. The stars were gone and I was alone, left in awe staring at the sky, alone. My light was gone, my sun had left, my trip was over. I woke up alive the next morning. When I looked outside there was the sun, no longer my sun because nothing would compare to the brightness that it radiated only yesterday, that brightness, that sun, that was my sun, this was just the sun and I was just happy to be alive.