dashtray

It’s taboo to admit that you’re lonely. You can make jokes about it, of course. You can tell people that you spend most of your time with Netflix or that you haven’t left the house today and you might not even go outside tomorrow. Ha ha, funny. But rarely do you ever tell people about the true depths of your loneliness, about how you feel more and more alienated from your friends each passing day and you’re not sure how to fix it. It seems like everyone is just better at living than you are.

A part of you knew this was going to happen. Growing up, you just had this feeling that you wouldn’t transition well to adult life, that you’d fall right through the cracks. And look at you now. La di da, it’s happening.

Your mother, your father, your grandparents: they all look at you like you’re some prized jewel and they tell you over and over again just how lucky you are to be young and have your whole life ahead of you. “Getting old ain’t for sissies,” your father tells you wearily.

You wish they’d stop saying these things to you because all it does is fill you with guilt and panic. All it does is remind you of how much you’re not taking advantage of your youth.

You want to kiss all kinds of different people, you want to wake up in a stranger’s bed maybe once or twice just to see if it feels good to feel nothing, you want to have a group of friends that feels like a tribe, a bonafide family. You want to go from one place to the next constantly and have your weekends feel like one long epic day. You want to dance to stupid music in your stupid room and have a nice job that doesn’t get in the way of living your life too much. You want to be less scared, less anxious, and more willing. Because if you’re closed off now, you can only imagine what you’ll be like later.

Every day you vow to change some aspect of your life and every day you fail. At this point, you’re starting to question your own power as a human being. As of right now, your fears have you beat. They’re the ones that are holding your twenties hostage.

Stop thinking that everyone is having more sex than you, that everyone has more friends than you, that everyone out is having more fun than you. Not because it’s not true (it might be!) but because that kind of thinking leaves you frozen. You’ve already spent enough time feeling like you’re stuck, like you’re watching your life fall through you like a fast dissolve and you’re unable to hold on to anything.

I don’t know if you ever get better. I don’t know if a person can just wake up one day and decide to be an active participant in their life. I’d like to think so. I’d like to think that people get better each and every day but that’s not really true. People get worse and it’s their stories that end up getting forgotten because we can’t stand an unhappy ending. The sick have to get better. Our normalcy depends upon it.

You have to value yourself. You have to want great things for your life. This sort of shit doesn’t happen overnight but it can and will happen if you want it.

Do you want it bad enough? Does the fear of being filled with regret in your thirties trump your fear of living today?

We shall see.

Sometimes we admire the feathers and ignore the dying bird.
Marilyn Manson (via niallwhoranvevo)
I will lie awake And lie for fun and fake the way I hold you Let you fall for every empty word I say
Brand New
Only god knows…

That this halo is decaying my thoughts, my dreams, my everything. Maybe it’s time to put my faith into something that has faith in me. No scratch that, its time to pick my self off this broken glass, forget the past. Forget the way I felt about her, the way I loved her. Because its eye for an eye, and in this world with my one eye I will still be king. Don’t you dare forget that, nor the lies you told me or everything you broke and lost….

“don’t become bitter, you have witnessed great things in humanity. The moment you become bitter, that’d be the moment you lose your greatnesses, and your ability to become a grate man”- JP

I apologize father, but the head that wears the halo is just as heavy as the one that wears the crown…

I’ll never be the man you thought or wished I would become …- MA

Love tell me, is there something wrong with me? Something that I can’t see.

Cuz I knew your eyes where wondering, but I wasn’t quite following.

You said it wasn’t ment to be
, but why do you keep calling ?

Some times it feels like I’m drowning at the bottom of the sea. Swimming with me and only me.
But baby you have me on a hook, so when I’m ready for the current to take you bring me back to the surface and lend me some air to breath.

But for you its only catch and release.

Lessons in leaving

Part one : Smart men

Smart men make me sick, A bruise, contusion, a nix. Something is inside me infecting what makes me tick.

For I am an, or was a rational man. Or I like to feel so…

So I’m not afraid of being lonely my whole life. I’m afraid of what comes from it.

To distance the thing I love, With the love of ones self. To lose all pathos. Is what I want most? Cuz I am not a smart man. I know what lies within, crawling in her cold, Soft skin, it looks so beautiful, The way the moon holds her like so.

~A snap of the fingers, I come to, Back to reality. Two on the rocks, the shock, The very thing that makes me rot. STOP! Please just stop! Because I’m spinning and the room needs to catch up…

Up from the floor boards. Up through the ceiling & away from hart.

Christ that God fellow is smart.

Part 2 :Write place, wrong time

Even here I’m too well dressed. Just wish I knew it was a test. Probably then I would have tried to try my best.

But it was the big guy whom my tattoos impressed -he leaned to me and said -you’re not complete yet

Part 3 : For old times sake

I wake up kicking and screaming again. Maybe its time to fined new friends.

Part 4 : Here’s to you kid

Bed ridden for so long… After a wail you lose track of time of space. Every thing seems taboo, weird, out of place… The hospital is not so hospitable. I need to fined a reason to anchor me here.

Part 5 : Pathology

Through my window, my observations do not forgive me There tiny birds eyeing four worms. Who made it there home right on that perch. ~It was spring… I knew what was to come

But regardless of my cries The three little birds left one little worm, whom was bright blue, the same blue that remained me of her eyes.

After a wail I called this worm mine, it was my best and only friend. One thought we got into a fight… it went into this sorry slump of a phase… I was ready to apologize because after all it is always my fault.

But before I could open my mouth, This winged, colorless, fiend, Crack through the brains of my friend.

If you love something let it go. If it shall return call it yours

-But love is for smart men, not for me.

So fly butterfly fly Ill just sit here and cry. But in time ill get by.

Salt is so hard to clean out of your wounds.

Part 6 : Eulogy

In time I grew old, started acting my age. “Crown of gold, Heart still harder then stone.” This time around still alone.

But a smile still spreads across his face.

And in the words of a smart man said “Heaven seems less scary looking through the hands hiding the way.”

Love Note’s

If love be a band there would be no sour notes. Gentle fingers noting every word that she spoke. Fluttering flutes set the tempo for the butterflies inside. The steady beat of the drums matched that of her heart. The music started faster, I should have known this from the start.

Chimes signaled the death of these violent crimes. Accented, too harshly the trumpets play, There was nothing more to say. Tempo sped to that of one-sixteenth.

Symbols of that of thunder filled me with fears. My body, my soul, my heart, my tears, Were sacrificed to her music loving ears. The band lingers, though it was never there.