Have you ever been at a point where you realize you have so much inside of you that needs to come out. So much you need to say. But you feel that you seriously lack the creativity required to fully express and give justice to it. Have you ever just felt like you lacked in anything or everything? Have you ever looked around, realized life was great, but something you couldn't place just really isn't right, and still you are unable to say anything? And have you ever realized that all the good in life is just a product of, a reaction to the bad? And that good itself fuels evil. If nothing else they are relative to each other and you cannot know one without another, but I am quite convinced they are interconnected, at work together yet so very different.
Have you ever looked up and realized you are not at all what you wanted to be when you reached this point in life?

And that when you type it is all rambling that sounds overdramatic because nothing really justifies any of the words that come out?

I think you guys should check out Dreaming Out Loud by OneRepublic. It is amazing. The best tracks are by far All we are, All Fall Down, Prodigal, and the original version of apologize before Timbaland. Right now, though, I am listenging to Urban Hymns by the Verve. It has a strang effect on me. It is the best cd that I have ever ignored.

Well, i have to work on my resume. Strange in itself. I always feel awkward talking about myself. But I need $$$ the root of all.... life.
Adios.

So hey guys. I wrote this a while back and in my head it was a song, and I tried to "poemize" it and ended up messing up rhythm and stuff, and I know it's not the best, but if yall could give me some tips, I would be more than greatful. I need some honest, critical feedback. I haven't written in a while, and it is increasingly difficult to write down the mess in my head. But I've tried. Let me know what you think.

This house just looks so empty
this air just feels so cold.
I’m looking for our mabye
Where have the small words gone

Forward in Time.

What I wanted I fought for it.
Now it seems I have it.
So why did I sell it so cheap.
Just to make a habit.

That’s my life.

She said have you ever felt
How it feels to pull your world down
To watch it crash around you
To watch yourself drown

Does it feel Fine?

I saw a man in my street
Trying to beat the system
With a bottle in his hand
Looking for change in the cushion of life

Should he even try?

I vowed to tell his story
everywhere that I go.
Til I understand what I’ve seen.
Til I know what I know.

And what it means.

Youre tracing with your fingers
every line on my face.
So you won’t forget (You can’t forget
The pain I’ve caused this place)

I just can’t think.

At the end of the day,
I only have one question.
Am I happy, was it worth it,
Would I do it again?

We will soon see.

With teary eyes she pointed out
There’s still something normal in the twisted,
With a far away look
Something good even in the wicked.

What does it mean?

.

Quick. Hurry.
Give me something to write about.
before i fade again.
oh so slowly

College is draining me.
There is so much to be done, to be read.
How Great Napoleon was.
Oh Napoleon 3 you asshole.
Ah the genius of Richelieu,
not countered even by Bismarck.

And someone tell me why
before i got to college
i had never heard of Charlemagne
OR the hapsburgs

is mississippi public school that crappy?
ANyways....
Back to reading about Germany's unification and the expansion of Russia.
I hate france.
and possibly dislike canada.
in the most non racist way possible.

Later ladies,
including seth.
how were the shrooms in canada?

p.s. I used the wrong extension whilst shaving my head
and now look similar to edward norton in american history x
that is all

I am back.
for a day.
I think I can type here.
and noone will read this.
hmmmm....
I am listening to Shinedown.
I call it my angry music.
I am not angry.
I am considering going to argentina for a year.
What do yall think?
I could go for only a semester, but everyone says a year is better.
How bad will i miss America and my friends?
that will be during the elections.
If Hillary wins,
I will not come back to america.
okay just kidding.
oh,
and seth does drugs.
I saw him the other day.
effing dilated pupil.
sorry seth.
had to tell them.

night guys.

oh, and seth isnt really on drugs.
i just had to say something crazy.
and insulting.
about him.
that is all.

It had already started about fifteen minutes ago. He could hear sound, loud and reverberating, outside the building reminding him he was late. He hastily entered the glass doors, and then paused. He needed a second to get used to the light. It was quite a contrast to the dark, stormy night he was seeking refuge from. His eyes adjusted, pupils growing smaller, and he was finally able to make his way inside where the music was coming from. He moved quickly up the aisle, not wanting to draw attention to himself, and sat in the nearest available spot. As it was the only place empty, he wondered if he had come just in time.

He was just far enough from the front to prevent him from clearly making out the features of the singers. A tall, handsome man, very stylishly dressed was standing in the middle, and behind him too his sides were the two other vocalists. The lady on the right was somewhat serious, and appeared as if she had done this for a long time. The girl on the left seemed a bit new to it, and she had a sort of nervous excitement. In the far left of the three sections, the late arriver watched detachedly, as if seeing for the millionth time a rabbit being pulled out of a hat.
He paused for a second, pulling his eyes from following the nicely polished beams and allowing them to take a look around him.

The crowd was large and persuasive, mouthing every word with the three, almost instinctively as if the action required no thought. He was just far enough to the left to be behind the section of the stage where the band played, closer to the audience than the singers were. He noticed the overhead lights focused on the drummer move a bit, distracting him for only a second. The particularly multi-angled lighting on the audience was broken by the balcony railings above him, and the shadows fell in thin clean lines across his bench, as if slicing the dark sections out of a piece of fruit and leaving him seated in a narrow shadow.

The picture in front of him seemed to be flat, not real at all, like a movie playing out in front of him at a theatre. He seemed very detached, and he blamed it on the distance. The actual music itself, though sounding to him as equally surreal, filled up the auditorium with its empty chords. The audience must not have felt the same way, as their very bodies swayed back and forth reacting to the message of hope and escape that the tune brought. One particular young man, not much younger than he, but young enough to matter, was particularly enveloped by the music, and as shadows covered his face he wondered if the boy would as well. would ever know. would ever feel. would ever learn, if anyone would tell him and if he would have wanted to know after he knew. A sudden thought struck him, but by the time he turned to pass it on, it had slipped his mind, and he realized it was rather futile anyway, seeing as there was no one there to pass it too.

The reflection of the light on the crashing symbol reached just the right spot in the crowd to land on his eyes, temporarily blinding him and bringing him back to his surroundings. It seemed to him that this whole production was sort of like a like something unexplainable and magical, something you can’t live with or without.

His mind once again resigned itself to wandering, leaving the music behind as if in another world. It suddenly struck him that he wasn’t quite sure why he had even come, or who it was he was looking for. Before he realized it he was outside between the large room where the band played and the glass doors that led him out. He paused for just a second wandering how he got there, and then as abruptly as he entered, he exited the glass doors, returning to the dark night where the clouds had moved just a bit, taking with them the rain and revealing a sliver of the moon in the dark, blue sky.

more random poetry

If you were an elevator
what music would you play?
something soft, soulful.....
r & b . reggae
maybe cheerful distractions
to ease the ups and downs
maybe silence screaming
as we plummet to the ground.




Doctors bury their mistakes
more often than not.
so if a doc makes a mistake
it seldom is forgot.

Doctors bury their mistakes
most regretfully.
I cannot bury my mistakes.
I have no Phd.

in the name of boredom, i will post stuff that you guys have already seen...like these poems i wrote long ago....

I sit here.
while you stare,
I sit here.

While you stare
at me wondering,
why i sit here
wondering

why you stare.
I'm sorry.
Is this your chair?

expectations goodbye

What about your predictions,
have they come true?
Is everything just like you said
just like you thought you knew.

And after all of this can you still see
the human side of me?
struggling for existence against
what I'm doomed to be.

I'm lying here without your soul.
It's so cold. It's time we go.
If there was ever hope
It left in hand with love

Now life's a struggle everyday
against our certain end.
Were searching for our separate ways.
I hope we find them.

and All that I see lies in red.
Misery without company.
staring vaguely, strangely
at a black and white TV.
And I think I might was well be dead,
then to live without you within me.
It's so hard to keep you where you're supposed to be.

So say Goodbye.