A War With No End.

every day i dream
about the places i could be
where happiness resides

every day i dream
about what it would be like
if things weren't so unclear

i want to see color
i want to see emotion
i want to see vibrance

open my eyes
tell me it's okay to see
just tell me it's okay
just tell me it's alright

caught between two wars too many
my glass heart aches, i am paralyzed
if you could just tell me that it's okay
if you could just tell me that it's alright

i feel like jesus christ
carrying every soul's sin
throughout the darkness in life
trying to find the holy light

if i lead the way, will you follow me?
i will bring you to the light
i will bring you to your happiness
but what am i supposed to do?

will last night ring in your ears?
too many eyes are staring at me
too many souls whispering to me
what am i supposed to do?

i would follow my heart
but i'm not sure where it is these days
i don't know these paths so well
my memory is lost

it's okay, it's alright
everything is just fine
memory is just another burden anyways

everything will be fine
with this bottle of burbon
and a colorful cocktail of pills
i will teach myself to forget

is it something wrong
if this is what i want?
this is my time to fuck shit up

these are my troubles
these are my battles
these are my wars

this is something i have to do
i have to do on my own
please don't try to help me
no need for licking these wounds

i am a soldier
i speak of beautiful hate
and one day my soul will be saved


Not one of my better poems but whatever. I fail at writing so it doesn't really matter.
I'm a very visually expressive person.
That's why I doodle instead of using words.

Mass-Produced Memories

When I was
five,
a man
gave me
a red balloon
when I visted
the Great Circus.
Cotton candy
tickled my tongue
and the lions
roared in glory.

Now, I'm
older
and the balloon
is but
another piece of mass-produced rubber
lions moan in agony
and cotton candy
is a trip to the dentist.

MIstakes and Regrets

I've been going through some really tough times in my life.
I've recently found out that people aren't really who they say they are. And no matter how much you love someone, they'll never believe a word you say. Actually, I've always known that. I think everyone knows that. But we all push it to the back of our minds to make ourselves feel better.
No matter how much you love someone, or how close you are...something is bound to go wrong, of course. Nothing is perfect. And if it is perfect, something isn't right.
I've been blamed, accused, scoffed at, laughed at, ignored for far too many times and for far too long.
I've suffered through a lot of things in my life, but recent events may take the hall of fame.
You can't make someone believe the truth if they don't want to believe.
You can't help someone who is never going to get better if they don't want to get better.
Of course there are going to be obstacles along the way, big or small, but if you really want to reach whatever it is you're grabbing at you really have to take a big leap. Just jump in. Go for it. And don't stop until you get there.
No matter how battered and bruised and cut up you get along the way, if it's something you really truly want, just fucking do it.
I've tried really hard to be an honest and true person but I guess that isn't good enough, and I'm not worth the smallest grain of salt.
It hurts, yeah. But I've got things to do so, of course, I'll just bury it.
But nothing will ever be the same.

Death Gets The Best of Us.

I just recently found out that Jerome Brannigan passed away at the beginning of the summer...
Last semester he sat behind me in my Approaches to Lit. class. I never really talked to him. I worked with him on class activities a few times, but I never really knew him. It's just kind of eerie to me.
It makes me wish that I could have known him. I should have turned around and sparked conversations with him, but I didn't. I could have been great friends with, but I wasn't. I could have helped make the last days of his life filled with joy and laughter...but instead we worked treacherously on our final paper.
Jerome's passing has made death a lot more real to me. It can happen any time. Anywhere. To anyone. It could happen to your best friend, the person you love most, or to the person who sat behind you in class last semester...
I've just began to realize that I need to take life more seriously and I need to live it to the fullest that I can.
I wish that everyone could realize how important and special life is..

...But if we lived like it was going to end tomorrow, we'd probably all be gone today right?

The Zephyr's Peculiar Sway.

I miss Florida. The weather was absolutely amazing and watching the sunset while the salty sea breeze was tickling the back of your neck was soothing. I don’t think that I have ever been more relaxed. Now, things are different. It has only been a few years since I was in Florida. But, a lot has changed. I am not healthy anymore. My young body is weak and fragile. It could break at any moment. I have been spending a lot of time in hospitals lately. They know me well there now. The hospital is my second home. I hate hospitals. It’s funny. I hate my own home as well.

Back to Florida. I’ve only seen the Atlantic Ocean twice in my life. The ocean is beautiful. So calm and peaceful. The moon’s ice crystals dancing over the sea. Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. There is just something about the zephyrs, the sand beneath your feet, and the scorching sun kissing your skin. There is just something about it all. A good something. The kind of something that is comforting and homey. The kind of something that you don’t experience too many times in your life. It’s a beautiful feeling.

‘Floridians’ don’t know how well they have it. Florida is where America goes to die. Half of the population driving on the streets can barely see over the steering wheel. When you pass a vehicle, all you see is a white puff of synthetic hair and beady little pupils peering through telescope eyeglasses. The other half of the population is trying to run the others off of the road. Drag races. Road rage. Show-offs. Fast cars. New engines. Horsepower. Sex. Booze. Death. The machine operating youth are angry. They plow through the streets nearly destroying everything in their paths. They act like they have a place to go, people to see, things to do. But we all know the truth. We’re all headed in the same direction, but we all deny that we’re in the same boat. They are eagerly waiting for that retirement check, just like the rest. They are waiting for relief; weight to be lifted off of their shoulders. We all wait for the same check.

Back to hospitals. I’ve been in and out of hospitals for the past two and a half years. Surgery after surgery. Heart problems and misdiagnosed illnesses. Near death experiences. Surviving. Hospitals are dirty places. The employees are only paid to care for you. They don’t really care. But, they are great actors though. Don’t let them fool you. A paycheck every two weeks makes everyone believe that they care. Saving a life and caring for someone are two completely different actions. Sometimes they are the same thing...

Luckily, I suppose, every nurse and doctor I’ve ever had has treated me kindly. But they never really cared. They are paid to do what they do. The nurse preps, the doctor gives you a diagnosis and a few months to live, and maybe two weeks of prescription drugs to take your mind somewhere else. After that, the hospital still doesn’t care. As longs as you’re a paying (dying) customer, they don’t care.

Jump to Florida again. When I think of Florida, when I remember anything, my mind becomes a factory. My mind is a factory. Every time I recall a moment in time, the wheels turn and the chemical sludge flows. The smoke stacks pump away the mass-produced memories, which pollute my mind. I am constantly polluting myself. Now, I will always be polluted. Smog wakes me up in the morning. Maybe I don’t miss Florida after all...

(I'm a pretty weird artist and the picture up at the top is a manipulation of a photo I took when I was in Florida.)