riddled with maladies

i always wanted to be a tenenbaum.

regression period over; these objects are a true expression of humanity.

redefine their purpose and redefine the world as we know it

if you open up your ears, you may actually hear something.

though one cannot change the flaws of humanity, one can embrace its' present beauty

forget the purpose; throw out the greater destiny.

soldier on

you are walking in the woods; at first you are joined by a man and woman.

you are together, accompanied by a wolf;

these people are kind and show you many things,

but then one day they begin to tire of one another.

in your haste to quiet them, you start running.

before you notice, they are left behind, and you have run straight into a pack of wolves.

hordes and hordes; some that lead you to the forest's darkest areas,

some that are only blips in your journey, some that stay with you for longer.

before you can begin to wonder your destination, a shiny thing captures your eye;

you travel together, to the emptiest, most beautiful part of the forest.

upon reflection you realize it is a mirage and you know not your whereabouts;

for you have been led far off the forest's main path.

my arm has left my body; it never wanted to be there anyways.

the wicked girl, the wolf child.
the one mother regards with apparent distaste
and now we've done something simply awful;
there's no going back from here, my dear.
yet this is the quiet desperation of our lives,
just an obsession with windows.
aiming for ecclectic, but neurotic is winning this round.

all i want is to haunt you, but you're never there

snow drifts in a stoic sort, making for a picturesque eve

yet it wasn't i who ruined the night with my pride, but you.

and she believes that one's luck is redefined each year and thus is paralyzed with fear;

things can only disseminate, there is much to be lost.

alone, as you will forever find her, only deficiency for company.

and one encounters the mouth to a vast, unknown woods;

preemted by miles of stark, white powder,

mirrored by the sky, devoid of contrast.

the trifling birds are your only friends;

wet and rumpled, they too will depart

all it wants is to spend everyday here, in arms;

a blissful existence that will never be realized,

for only squalor can inhabit this cold, black vessel.

lost the way

"i'm sorry,
i don't want to rule or conquer anyone
i should like to help everyone if possible,
jew, gentile, black man, white
we all want to help one another, human beings are like that
we want to live by each other's happinesses, not by each other's misery
we don't want to hate and despise one another
this world has room for everyone,
the good earth is rich
and can provide for everyone
the way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way
greed has poisoned men's souls; has developed hate
we have developed speed but we have shut ourselves in
our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard, and unkind.
we think too much, and we feel too little.
more than machinery, we need humanity
more than cleverness, we need kindness, and gentleness
without these qualities, life will be violent
and all will be lost
even now, my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women, and children
victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people
but to those who can hear me, i say 'do not despair'
the misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed,
the bitterness of men who fear human progress.

but we have lost the way."

all delighted people, raise your hands.

black figure, thrust against a white backdrop.

your face is gaunt and skeletal my dear;
your soul seems broken, she whispered.
leading a symbiotic existence,
forever elaborating on this design of humanity.
who will imagine the future of all this?
perhaps someday it will all be saved.
for now though, the simplest joy is in this;
thrust your head out the second floor window, eyes closed.
feel the rain, and pretend to be riding the ocean's waves;
rushing with adventure for all you've got.
this happiness is to be chosen,
or these madnesses will surely take you prisoner.

your eyes...they tell stories

and here is a secret; one you've always known but couldn't bear to face.
take this terror and turn it into hope, for the future is filled with promise and luster
somewhere along the way you got twisted and turned so bad you didn't know which way was up. greeting to this joyful mourning; it is dripping with prospect.
persevere and be fiercely triumphant

jack isn't normal; he never has been, and he's never wanted to be.

i am jack's apathetic liver, i am jack's apathetic life.

jack will try, but he will never be what you want.

i am jack's failed attempts and mixed emotions.

jack is loved by everyone, adversely jack is loved by no one.

jack destroys you, but jack destroys himself more.

i am jack's self-loathing, aligned paradoxically with jack's super ego.

and jack will never let anyone know the whole truth,

not even himself.

you belong here.

what are you afraid of? what plague of terrors keep you awake when the world is dark and sleep is supposed to be taking place?
never the same from one day to the next; this life is surreal. these methods inundated with eccentric overtones.
and you want so much;
so much more than what you have, so much more than what you are, so much more than you will ever be.
it's the wanting that destroys you.
and here sits a girl, alone in a dark, empty room.
the normalcy of her existence is contingent upon it's every other aspect being completely ridiculous. and there is a life that surrounds you here. a life that is wanting to be shared; wanting to be loved. but it won't be;
for you hate this life.
you hate this reality. more than anything.
you despise it; for it eludes you,
like an intricate pile of lies and half-truths that you could get to the bottom of.
if only you could analyze the two worlds; lay them out next to to one another, you could see them clearly.

eerie predilections.

let the monsters see you smile, for you are exquisite and inundated with terror
and for a moment you had comfort, but honey, that's all you're getting.
triumphant desires, but you can't stop looking back into the fog.
surrounded by birds; haute shots and contemporary thoughts
immerse yourself in this parallel universe, engage fully in this hollywood mindfuck

my happiness is at your house, i think i left it at 55 sycamore

meet me in montauk, where the trains all stop.
fog enshrouded cornfields, blacked over by the crows,
circling this new england fall. light a match, and watch, as she falls.
tempestuous ways; self love is only derived when destruction takes place for this one.
take yourself down, take out the light.
snuff out the candles, the wind cuts through to the core.
break me down and observe this anguish in silence. but there's no mercy here, in your eyes; for they are blank. devoid.
manic depressive; just a few eccentrics.
for they're keeping something dark, something secret inside.
delphian and cabalistic, one cannot help but be drawn to this mystification
embark on this twisted blackened road,
just to see where it leads

oh dear! the zebras are scaling the roof.

packed in in a way becoming sardines, this noise is pertinent. and i tried so hard, but i simply couldn't capture the full extent of your beauty. for our lives are made up of the ability to sort through this mass attack of unremitting turmoil.

torrid affairs, thus this habitual violence will soon come to an end;

this one's got darkness inside of it.

all you must do is emote, but you simply can't bring yourself to do so. sunday morning blues,

you are a part of this machine as well as the whole. just as this subjective reality could be great, but only if you'll allow it. one day she'll come to terms that she is professedly execrated by all.

embrace this continuance, accept it. feel the cold wind whip your hair across your face; close your eyes, and leap off this precipice.

our lives are defined by oppurtunities, even the ones we miss

haunted by these night terrors; i dreamt i knew you again

a permanent fixture on this stoop, you and your brooding stoner-like ways.

killing time, waiting for the days to pass,

perhaps ambivalence is my saving grace

self made errands for self made entertainment;

without you, i'm nothing

in the world i see, there is a box.

inside this, another. and inside that,

many smaller, colorless boxes.

in the world i see, humans are motionless pieces of foliage,

save for those that are truly living.

handpicked by the earth; wild, like their mother.

in the world i see, the animals are the hegemon.

there is no misery, no lonliness,

and every resource is renewable.

in the world i see, we went away together.

and you never forgot about me;

because you never had to.

this uncertainty is spreading like a plague.

bittersweet past, exciting new future;

torrential affairs;

watch, as it drowns in self-disgust

it can only be learned to live with one's afflictions;

to integrate said countaractions seamlessly.

there is no antidote for this warped reality.

success, hidden behind it's elusive counterparts.

she looked at the world and decided upon an infinite ebb and flow

then she decided it didn't matter, much.

paintsoaked mourning

a period of transition, you are my random act of kindness. bruised and battered knees, this one may take a bit. time constituencies; darling we simply haven't enough here
climb into this bed of high thread count and discomfort. the truth is, she never really wanted to be there anyways.

i think of you in colors that don't exist.

am i edgy enough for you meow

a true and devout child of the rain. fair-tempered preceding inclement weather. this is where it is; the derivative, the essence. structure and routine, these are mandatory things; feel this disease, soak up this rainwash. grasp this moment dear, for it's fleeting deer.

a song for no one

absentminded abbey, sending blank thoughts out into blank space; words of enrichment, or the ramblings of a self-obsessed bigot? soak up the summer sun, i live in a small town of eccentrics

a never-ending racetrack; like an animal in captivity, pacing around town as you do

if your thoughts are overwhelming, then the music simply isn't up loud enough.

voiceless words, faceless tunes.

it is the plight of humanity to fight our natures, but maybe nature knows a hell of a lot more than we do.

peel apart the layers of confusion

hidden transparencies; sending out smoke signals to the like-minded others, faces lit by the moon. this earth is a giant vessel of millions of floating souls. big wide world, till the land according to the seasons. big empty room, tiny old man. he has lined up his successes, peer through the glass, get an eyeful of a life. it hurts to think i have burdened you, for i thought this was a fity-fifty deal. it's plausible she is simply destined for failure, inherent to her being; she needs destruction like americans need their starbucks.

disappointment is on the right, elation on the left.

it's not pretending anymore, this is who you are now. though with disbelief, she peers back at the remains of what used to be and is proud to have come such a long way.
the quiet things that no one knows.
i think that she fears the deepest recesses of her mind most; more than any ferocious beast
deep and cavernous, you had better have nerves of steel if you expect to survive in this iron box.
iconoclastic ambitions, we're all just trying to be someone.

a series of blurs, like i never occurred

what a nice little niche you've created for yourself there. do you enjoy it? walking amongst the fruits of your labors.

consider your life at this precise moment; now pretend that this is how it has always been and will always be. are you happy with the end result?

realign your priorities, let's see the world in a different light.

the old methods are broken, irrepairable

but there is still much value in them, much to be learned from them.

it's all angles from here, can't you see?

directions from A to B

indian summer winds, what is this mysterious substance i seem to have absconded?

it's nice to have some clarity, for one can appreciate the moment; bittersweet intermittence. sugar child, you just gotta go back to your roots, back to doing what you love.

clamdigging is my occupancy, sir. i just pearl dive for fun.

on the weekends

salute this brief glimpse of what is to come; a glimmer of credence on a long and lasting venture. but it's enough to keep you going,

for we have the homefield advantage

sit here, watch with quiet astonishment whilst you wait for the shadows to grow longer. take it slowly, the first drag is always the most painful. caustic wit; forget everything you thought you knew, this is a whole different animal entirely

familiarity breeds contempt; please stay mysterious lover. not wanting to know the truth, they prefer the glamous intrigue. neurotic, and riddled with maladies, this one's full of problems.
iron walls, iron chains.
held together by an iron fist.
strive for inflexion; complacency and time are our only enemies. interchangeable, the terms are shared, though the meaning behind them varies from you to me. a series of sameness, likeness.
but this world is broader than that, this existence is bigger than that. continue on your flight of fancy, for it is this garden's nourishment; the rich dirt of our mother.

nature's better in the dark. nature's louder in the silence.

please stay tortured; you're more beautiful when you're in agony.
smooth bluegrass beats, like a casual observer behind a glass door.
living half-lives to go along with your half-truths;
we are a species built upon deceit.
please journey into the forest; to the center, where the fog starts. behold the dancing figurines, ethereal and skeletal. these mysteries can teach you things. abandon all apprehension, this is the moment when you choose who you want to be.
when you emerge from the brush, the world will be unfamiliar in it's entirety.

halfhearted vaugueries, this is where the joy is derived from.
litter my life with your post-consumerism theory; maybe we can make some good out of all this mess.
summer boredom, relinquish your hold. though i do appreciate your apparent superiority to summers prior. a perfectionist will always see only what is wrong.
exhaust me, you tiresome old thing.

inebriate the beat, gulp down mint green tea.
smoking like an aperture. what is it you hope to find in there?
we could use your fervency on the field. turn up the tunes, it's harder to think that way. crisp, like the fresh desire for aptness. are you a weathered veteran or a naive virgin
false freedom? perhaps. but baby, it's all how you perceive it. manquer for the air conditioned mustiness. you comfort me and i shall miss you. sounds of a partially exotic upbringing, i yearn to hear the clear peals of your sonatinas. why don't you play anymore? i know that you were happy once.

half finished frustration, fragment thoughts reduced to only bits and pieces. evidence of consternation; failing to state anything save for my newfound impotence, rendering them useless. writer's block i believe it's called.
this filth that i'm spewing simply isn't marketable. sexual draino, but you are sold out. what a rudimentary purpose you serve.
inspiration is everywhere. i scrabble to receive it, but all that emerges are these half thoughts.
absent, i am left with solely the memories of who you used to be, replaced by this cold harsh reality. but please perservere, they say no one emerges from the forest the same person.
that's what you wanted all along, isn't it?

i'm not referring to you, sorry jesus.

ah yes, i heard you were funny like that. of course, you'll never be able to live up to the bar you have already set for yourself. by astounding the world only once you have essentially set yourself up for failure. hold on tight, it's going to be a bumpy ride. living in a backwards world. blow my mind with your ridiculous methods. for those we call outsiders can never wrap their consciousness around it. you all spend your days enduring the mundane. painful dissatisfaction, i can see that it destroys you, for it destroys me too. but perhaps i can be your beacon; for i know there is another possible reality. i will fix the world, somehow, someday.
we have lost the way and a new path must be formed.

burn it baby, burn it all.

we'll tear down all the houses and forge new frontiers. one day, the human race will die, and nature will take over. i'm sorry to tell you, but i'm fairly certain that humans are just a successful genetic mistake. make known your purpose, now fulfill it. there is no greater natural endowment. stay unfailingly true; at least they can't say you weren't consistent. i'm building new horizons and honey, you're the skyline. watch the decimation and possess awe as the remnants of a life subside. just over yonder they say there is a mountain. listen closely and you can hear the vague, irreverant mumblings

of a life, a town, and a dream

discarded and forgotten

girl i write you a ditty, give you a hunnred fiddy

swing your arms, show me the way.

an old soul indeed, for she is wise beyond years. make it impossible to predict the ten year life plan.

safari excursions, liberate the trees. you're free, thus they should be too.

honey child, one day the world will understand.

forget feet first; tumble in, lead with the face. and they'll destroy something beautiful, just to watch it shatter. set fire to this life and watch the edges curl up with wonder.

somewhere, someone knows the words to the songs you sing

question it, analyze it, then expunge. these are the rules to live by. hop in the vehicle and set the cruise. lest we be the deer that stands, frozen between the headlights with the false impression of safety. dig out the stale, dusty reserves and watch the world around you change. and lover, when you reach the bay, please find a stone. now extract it, and when you feel like you have forgotten, simply brush your fingers across it's surface. then you will see again.

if vivid is how you're living then where is the yearning

do not worry for we are boneless and i have included polaroids to link together the fragments of my mind

there's a knock at my door, it's my last hope for a spanish whore

jack kerouac you are a genius sir. grab the necessities, empty the bank accounts. and don't forget the free friday cookies. in fact, take two. buy nourishment for three or four days. or perhaps just pedal your catchy gypsy ways. the miles expunge the chains, for it is the great american roadtrip. drive to the sunrise, do not deter. let's get a good look at this casimir pulaski day.

she is such a wicked child

and without your iron grip i can be anything i want, by eschewing you i free myself. light up life with the chords of chaos. if you wish hard enough, it will ignite the cords of liberation. ambition is the aspiration.
but please, don't fret. for these are the times, and those were the days.

and that's how you let the beat build bitch

what a dizzy morning of love. what a dizzy mourning of love

mealy apples, piles of reciepts. the numbered paintings of a life

vast and endless, a paper ocean.

a couple thousand and i'm out

but everyone says that.

a birthday outfit for a birthday child

i want to soak up your essence.

i want to feel you breathe,

and catch your disease.

i want to be everything you've always wanted,

and anything you will ever need

take my hand and together we'll forge to the end of the earth

let's forget our past,

and make a wild, wild future

it's concerning what the human race is evolving into. for we are creatures of the night and between the hours of eleven and three, the world is ours. the mention of memorial day brings melancholy, though she is uncertain as to why. "you said you'd deal with it later, well now it is later, so what are you going to do??" brazilian doors, walnut floors. so terribly funky funky fresh. come change my life around, please. let's frolick in eclectic ecstacy.

i believe in doing everything with purpose
i believe that everyone is beautiful in their own right
i believe everyone should capitalize on their strengths
and work relentlessly on their weaknesses
i believe in simplicity and also tanacity
i believe in appreciating the delicate beauty the world so readily shares with us
and above all i believe in believing

ahh, insomnia; my old and weathered friend. you do not call, always just showing up unexpectedly. trapping my mind with your thoughts, and disrupting my schedule. it is quite rude of you. you make it so that i cannot get clarity, therefore i cannot get peace. if i were software, you would be the virus that makes it impossible for me to shut down. for i have no firewall, thus once again you have infected my brain.

time to understand the world, time to understand the monster

time will test us over, and over.
just to make certain that one never forgets.
imagine how wise the human race would be if the process of maturation didn't renew itself with every generation.
old and sage, and a part of the earth. like the trees, or the wind.
but just as time heals all wounds, the body and the mind forget.
and time stands there, ready
to test us once more.

six month rut, but at least i cleaned the corner

she walks as if the world hurts. as though she is carrying the weight of every problem facing this earth. every movement is carried out gingerly, carefully, and with precision.

one day the savages came and destroyed everything
but in the destruction there is beauty, for every experience has value
therefore one must thank the brutes for all that they have taught.
for one day the people will emerge
from the forest in which they took refuge, that beastly day
the day that all ambition was ground underfoot
and on this day
the new savages will come, unyielding
and take back what is theirs

one day, she'll follow the birds disappearing into the rain

perhaps it is the lack of contingence
the folding into oneself
perhaps there is a cap on one's contentment
and the barest of utterances
perhaps it is the desire,
intent on leaving her riddled with maladies
for it may be that she is the kind of girl
that will only feel belonging once bequeathed to the forest
and imparted to the wolves

perhaps she just needs to break away.

i'm such a hipster for penning this on my blackberry

sunlight streams down on this martian child

exhausted from the previous habituation, yet still so full of youth

the birds chirp peacefully as a breeze stirs the world about

it is a good day

"the world you're looking for only exists from the outside,
the only reason i survive in it, is because i always knew it was empty."

every droplet of sweat,
another weight passing away
each smattering of liquid carries my fears and frustrations
my body's perspiration is the liquid of would-be gypsy tears
each droplet brings with it a wave of satisfaction
i am like my ancestors, chained to the earth
it encompasses me
and washes me away

these colors don't bleed brutha

maybe if i buy some levi's i will get lost so that i can be free

american capitalism

you excite and disgust me at the same time

like high fashion, i want to clomp around in your ridiculously high stillettos

tell me i'm worthy,

give me your red and white striped approval

don't get blinded by the sea of bright, shining faces
don't get swept away by the excitement
don't get sucked into the glory of success
don't get dragged down by the dissatisfaction
don't get beleagured by the encampments
and don't forget
that they will always have what you want
and you never will

sweep me into your security,
even if it's false;
i want the succor of a thousand down goose comforters
forty gaulouises
seven rainy days
and twenty six comfortable silences

do not hide it
they hiss
give us a look
they preach
together they drag it out, into the cold winter daylight
they lay it there, out on the ice
in the open.
it flops once,
twice,
three times.
then it lays still
what happened
this they will forever muse
from a distance i watch
and i understand;
it was too fragile, and it's surroundings too beautiful.
it couldn't handle lying there,
compared with the harsh beauty of the world
so it did the noble thing
and sacrificed itself

it's true what the colorless ones say
i can complete you.
together we'll order greasy chinese food and chain smoke as we intertwine our lanky limbs
by saying nothing you reveal the barest of half truths
use me,
then leave me
i am your discarded plaything

assimilator

though in human form
i am a beautiful piece of technology.
like the slickest poetry i slip into crowds
blending seamlessly.
like the deadliest of predators
i will become what you want before you even notice a change taking place