Oh the things we've become...

shining glorious nothingness
is this what we've always wanted?
I dont remember the time
when i thought it would
one day, come to this

Harlequin

Draw the awe and swivel from the undertones. ardour is the device to ascertain the unreliable, dread the undeserved. come to the parallax scheme and smile at your dissidence. love that gourd, that challis, that cup. and feel the sand coming away. Does it always feel like this? true to word, dye that sheath and see whats that to come. fangs and claws we come out crying. flying lying. dying. deriving the rocks from the jewels while we confuse our mouths for our feet. we lie on our backs and watch the stream dry. living in existence- where we grab and grasp that supposed inheritance. where does it all end. in prose, where we see those pro's and con's and con's becomes what we all uphold. deduce the truth and open your mind's eye.

preach that sermon and cast out those lines
and see whats the day's catch.

Didn't you know that the world dances on harlequin floors.
Indulgent in that paradigm shift

Starstruck.

Apparently the stars we look to are the physical manifestation of the past. So that when ever we look up into the stars -- it is as if the immediate future (us) is directly interacting with the past. hence the past and the future existing in one moment. with that, i wonder-- how can it not but render our meanings of what is the past, and what is the future-- rendering words and its meanings- ultimately useless. if that were true, then the past is not really the past, and the present not the present-- then is the only thing definite, the future? But even then, the future is not given...

The Number Juice.

A garrish display, finite till the end. Still left in the stillness of things undone-what then will become of us all. filters and delinquent cove, what right do we have? Estranged in unraveling demeanor, how can we not but blame ourselves? Do that dance, and lift that drink. preening feathers as we go. tight lipped till the end, who could but guess our names. Start your engines and race to the abyss where excess take new meaning.

Grandeur in Cages.

Harrowing stability, the feel of languid innocence. support the burning beams and hope for the sirens to sing. hold up those hands-- wishing for something more. learn the unbelievable. surrogate from the start, we all become proxies mind and body till the end. a moment too soon, we realize it all but too late. the microcosms of cavernous conclaves of delinquency and folly. soon to be nothing- we praise what light cannot give us. the need and desperation caused by gaping aristocracy-- we laugh in the midst of it all. hoping our next steps aren't our lasts. abstraction and the theory of its religion. short circuit the unbelievable. this habitual facade. save us nothing. harrowing truth. out of sight, out of mind' best describes negligence. how then would you wish such a fate on anyone. fate cannot be so cruel as to create for you something and have chance take it away. subdued we receive what is finally given. spit back the lie, and tell her you love her. sordid in deed, still we dance the good dance. escape to your prison and hope you've hid your heart. stagnant in your prayers you shiver from your words. let it roll from your tongue that fevored testament of love, lust, lost and detatch. in the midst of grandeur we become. hard shells and sheered sheep we continue our arduous condemnation. harking the great divine in worthy soliloquy, you kneel. and face your hunter.

Interlude.

I dont know

if I'm being strong

or weak....

but I tear up

in the thought of death.

Though not out of fear,

but of understanding.

See You At The End of The Tunnel.

Living from moment to moment

will leave you starving in between

becomming like a living husk of a thing.

I don't know how anyone can do it,

this partial existence

watching everyone else live

their mediocre lives.

While you, you live more than
any will in their entire lives.

only living in intervals.

Not knowing to envy or pity them.

them and their mediocre lives.

Never knowing neither extremes.

I think I finally know what your talking about...

And I don’t know whether I should be happy or sad that I do,

but one thing for sure, I've never lived more in my life.

Sanguin Aberration.

The decision of Languid fervor has long past, as sentiments soon dissipate in wintry mists. A colloquial affair with much ostentation and pedantry. I no longer hold that veil of splendor, of that a tortuous panorama. Of such a beloved spectacle I would care not soon forget.But all together cannot resist the inevitable.

I'll See You Soon.

Coming fresh from the sun,

but all I can think of are those city lights

and that early morning cruise.

I'm back where we started

and it feels the same as we left it.

Riding along racing that morning sun,

not looking back hoping these feelings will stay intact.

We'll ride never to regret what we've begun.

We'll ride this wave baby, and we'll ride it well,

just don't look back just dont dwell.

We'll put up a fight

and everything will turn right.

Just you see, just wait and it will be.

Just look at my eyes and they'll tell you good,

we'll go at it nice and smooth,

feeling that right mood.

Riding along racing that morning sun,

not looking back, hoping these feelings will remain intact.

We'll ride baby, we'll ride.

We'll ride this wave good,

going at it nice and smooth.

You'll see we'll do it good.

Let's break that cycle

we'll start over all brand new.

We'll shed that skin in that midnight view.

Just don't look back I'm right here,

we'll push things to gear

racing that morning sun.

Camouflage.

When is it acceptable and when is it not?
we drive ourselves crazy with thoughts of the future

and miserable thinking of the past.

-- But why does it seem that letting everything go

wont solve anything?

I blame the nail polish.

so shiny and colorful --and misleading

as like everything else.

To think of it, everyone are like cuttlefishes

you see what they want you to see

In the midst of near darkness

that luminescent skin

and exploding fireworks

a beacon emerges

scrambling to grab and grasp

we fight among ourselves
thinking we know better.

until it disappears

into nothingness.

leaving us wondering

if it were real or a dream.

Quiver.

Then I,
like that of mist receding,
withdraws to the forest leaving
nothing but drops of dew and silence,
awaiting sunrise.

8 is just an open 3.

Its five in the morning and im awake.
this should be a crime.

taking naps too late into the day should be a crime.

color pencils are okay as long as you want to be boring.

I have more patience with other people more than i do for myself.

AND i really dont like people.

I think if i could just

shut people out and their bullshit for good

I would.

I'd just keep three people around me all the time.maybe four.

That's my goal.

to find 2 people as worthy to be a friend.

2 siblings i could trust the most.

And 2 loves.

one Lover

one Soul

All in all I would make up the third.

I would be the 3rd one.

The number three is solid.

the scales. judgment.

The Resolution to the

eternal struggle of duality in our universe.

A triangle.

the most solid shapemost efficient

bridges are made in threes.

Too bad it never works.

People just dont know loyalty these days.

Insure.

I'm happy that you didn't stay long enough for goodbyes to hurt.

Waiting.

.... Thinks that the rain does the strangest things to people.