boys and girls, college

this pill has lasted me, oh, about 10 and a half hours. and honestly, i'm still in a good mood. but what i am writing about is to tell what college entails.

i took this pill in order to finish a 15 page paper.
it was for cognitive science,
a piece on
cross-cultural and sex differences in frames of references, spatial perception and linguistics.

as i saved my masterpiece,
i referred back to the online syllabus.

and on that syllabus i found
the due date.

and it was on monday.
next monday.

and i took the pill to finish it for saturday.

and that boys and girls,
is college.

U S of A

                1

it is semaphore gore

on and off the screen

the images pour

right before we've scene

along the lines of kitsch

bloody murder winth

more feelings than fish

flash upon the city plinth

we hath not unveiled

any evidence of the lost

we'll keep our eyes pealed

for the life you tossed

                2

civil servants are wont

to seek the praise unearned

i know of one who does not tote

the laud which is deserved

tis not the learner's duty

nor the books he reads

to keep interest in study

a teacher must plant the seeds

to start a farm

land is not a contemplation

there starts the ball of yarn

and begins the fruitful gestation

                3

palpable and forsooth

living without youth

without a truth

keeps open minds at bay

so praise be to the U S of A

most know not why to war we came

some submit taxes were to blame

others say land did the trick just the same

and now we confuse freedom with fame

not knowing how like this we became

so hoping to imbue

a bit of light to you

might not leave switches down

and light bulbs with peal sounds

~Dear Kiki. dear diary. dear death. near seth.

Reverence,

Digress.

Human Tragedy.

We've been wasting plastic

on

trying to remember what Pachelbel's Cannon

sounds like

right now

Penderecki is convincing me

that Ghosts are not the

scariest thing

in the world

but rather that

the idea of ghosts

instil more fear

than anything

else

in these forgotten halls

behind the peeling paint

lies the answers

of when

it all went wrong

how the 

horror did erupt in those early

hours

men engulfed in flames

only fit for science fiction

a city of 200,000 being forced

from homes

houses

and livings

what horror did erupt

that warranted the forever abandonment of

100 square kilometres 

now there sits

a city of ghosts

on the river of vestiges

that feeds the lake of tragedy

and when the winds are high

there is nobody to shut the door

nobody to fix the breakers;

nobody to close the window when

the snow falls

nobody

living

anymore

~It's common.

Fearfully,

Digress.

Days Go Past

painting portraits of loneliness
coming across miniature gems of distant memories

~We look stupid... hail to Alberto Ascari; a true demigod.

Hate,

Digress.

investments

there is nothing like
like finding a real love,
nothing like a real person to love you.
grasping the meaning of your own life
and sharing it with someone else.
i now know what real love is like,
only to be adjusted for inflation,
like nominal income is on paper,
like inflation brings down the income about
4%.
only with this love,
inflation is -4
and love is not an expenditure.
like the congress makes decisions,
the democrats rule this nation,
heaven forbid this realtionship goes to hell,
just as i know our country will.
the man in charge of my heart is nothing
nothing compared to our new idiot president.
his job, as is mine to not change me for i am
perfect
the
way
i
am.
but as this country fades into nothingness
and the whole world falls apart
i know that unlike the massiah
he will protect me and never change anything
things are the way they are
like the economy is in shambles
my heart has gained 3000%
the market may drop
but all the more reason to invest in love.

She Moves Swiftly, Speaks Sweetly

She move swiftly to hit me and take me off my feet quickly
My first and only victory in my broken hearted history.
She speaks sweetly to greet me and take me back a step neatly
A mystery full of misery and contemplating chivalry
Knowing things I see will never really get through to me.
And that she will pay the greatest price, the finders finder fee.
Watching walls through telescopes, looking for your face
Holding onto hope that can’t last another day.
Forcing fading smile that were never meant to stick
Sliding by your heart, reverberating slick.
Losing sounds and losing ground on what I meant to say.
Slipping subtle supplements of her instead of you, never seem to change the way I see the morning dew.

You Couldn't Blame Her For Giving Up

She gets me, and the fact that I move nowhere quickly, and I try to move bur fall down slickly. No epiphany, just broken hearted misery of my own self tyranny, and not falling asleep briskly. So I contemplate amphetamines, and relapse hard on nicotine, and try to forget the broken scene of living with what I deemed to be the only way to ream the seeds of what I decided life could be. I want to move on, be strong for my mom and learn to live with a different song. But I sit, linger over it, and wait for sleep to come in fits. I cannot quit for fear that it will be over quick and ill care about something more than this shit.

200 mg

It's not that I haven't thought about it for awhile, or that I don't constantly think of it every day. But I was walking home, with some kind of girly shit on my iPod. It was good though, a good 2:00 song. Anyways, I get a kick out of those speed traps. Flashing at every car. And the leaves on the ground, so crunchy. The fact that I have business cards can never, ever stop me from crunching on those leaves. I even do a two-step, making sure I get that real curled up one. And I walk into my house, slide open the glass door. It's quiet. It smells like the Febreze candle I bought. Like $6. I'm out of breath, and I have an idea. I'm going to stop thinking. And then I think about it.

Smile at my answer, leave me laughing.

I've been watching your world from afar

by the way- vote for OBAMA/BIDEN!!!

I was out of your league....

and you were 20,000 underneath the sea, waving affections.

You were out of my league at a distance that I didn't want to see.

Down to the bottom, I wanted a junction, and often there was one.

You'd surface face first and we'd share thought bubbles.

And I still believe in the phrases that we breathed, but I know the distance isn't fair to cross.

I was out of your league....

and you were 20,000 underneath the sea, waving affections.

You were out of my league at a distance that I didn't want to see, wanted you nearer.

Your depths made a pressure that punctured my works and all your fluids couldn't tolerate the force of my thirst.

I love the place, where we shared our tiny grace.

But just because it's real don't mean it's going to work!

I was out of your league....

and you were 20,000 underneath the sea, waving affections.

You were out of my league at a distance that I didn't want to see, wanted you nearer.

And true affection floats.

True affection sinks like a stone.

I never felt so close.

I never felt so all alone.

I was out of your league....

Cossonances of Disaster

bringing you to the brink of boundless energy

showing and not telling you the affects of my madness

psychosis sets sounds inside the soft tissues

grey matter dies when bodies dangle from aortic tension

lilies lost in the loving of last lines

crushing the doubts of finding sole mates

touching toes in shoes for those experiencing throes

of teenage love washed up on seas saltier than tears

rivals writhe with rife ridiculousness 

today will be the cornerstone of my disappearance 

because brotherhood is bothering the best blisters

growing up will never be so dark a closet

bleaching bodies with boldly belted baritone bouts

last screams are fornicating with the strangled dreams

conforming to the continuity conducive to connivence

conning the family that never supported the endeavour 

standing for self serving subordination

proving that playtime is the best time for planning

lingering in thoughts of living loves and loving the un-living

tomorrow will dawn and the dead will be forgotten

leaving letters leading to the living ludicrousness

ne'er impacting the world leaves me alone

depression dips deep in the drawers of destiny

and we shall see the darkness' impotence

~Where do you go when your sun has set? scales of one to ten--how uncomfortable are you with it?

I have homework for you.

Give me reading:

Love,

Digress.

Second Hand

they are times likes these that

I think of

Richard Wagner

writing Siegfried Idyll

and of

Van Gogh

quickly removing an ear

I think of John Donne

using a flea to express

himself

I think

of how I am

so compelled

by the way you breathe

when the moon has not yet 

risen 

but the sun has completely

set

and how your concealed legs

take the shape of 

a Mediterranean paradise

and the

way dessert is

so many

times more comforting when

we make it

together

and then

they are times like these

I realise 

mornings can sometimes be greeted 

with

open arms and black pupils

~Tchaikovski (Чайковский). and benadryl.

Love,

Digress

A Key Please

on the brink of time 

finding success in distance

never to admit

one steel rail stretching

from socialism to pain

establishing forever

lost inside last place

found in the vertical space

dividing today

~tomorrow forever. No Longer for i,

Love,

digress.

No More Love And i'm Still Standing.

looking past the iron-clad lamplight

above--an expansion of vacuum.

~forever home.

Love,

Digress.

run red lights

slowly losing time;

alcohol punishing dreams--

tomorrow is lost.

~Cruise missile.

Love,

Digress.

Чернобыль Сказание

dust rises while buildings crumble;

canyons answer with cavernous echos

~Crisis.

Love,

Digress

halfway whole

you know when you squeeze a sponge and all the juices of the kitchen-world that have been slurped up in the past...forever....gush out like shaken soda exploding;
like pushing the elevator button and waiting on the 99th floor;
remember how it feels to wake up in the middle of the night with a wet pillow and swollen eyes because that dream-image was oh so real;
and thinking you can you can you can....but then you really truly honestly....can't;
can't you imagine spilling your guts and being so politically INcorrect that they have no choice but to look and stare and say "oh my";

i guess what this jumbled mess of similies and subtelties and (un)certainties points to is that feeling when you feel so dead inside that when things break down, CRaSh, and buRN, you realize that a long time ago you stopped forgetting to care and...and maybe it's time to remember.
when you're fighting, pushing, playing that tug-of-war of wills and pride and who can spit the meanest s*** and all you, I, can think is i'm so tired and trying to cry with a depleted supply of emotion tears
how many times can a human heart (love?) be twisted, tested, cheated, betrayed and abused, before it stops hurting, stops threatening to tear them (me) apart and just keeps on beating with the same thud-thud...thud-thud it had before you even knew about that fanciful fascination in the art of feeling



how long can you fake it

Hundred Proof

burnt flower petals

, severed family bow-tie

, holding stick ups

in the form of date rape drugs

; black eyes for the last life

, tear gas ducts full of

salted seas

, soiled soil with no laments

--a threnody in what we say

past times

and last lives

; shattered for the first times

and this was the fresh fallen powder

marching through april weather

--we fit inside the same sweater

stretched to strangle the 

inventor.

Broken glass

and outside my window

is the awful depiction of you

and all i see is

truth. 

i've been spending my nights

in brightless lamplight

writing the suffixes of vampires

bleeding for the starving writers

who know not their desires

but what death

inspires

.

i'll die of T.B.

and you'll live on without me

.

welcome one and all

to my co-dependency

; i break safety sun-glasses

with the poise and passion

of the rebel football team

go ahead--step to me

, i've got a scalpel

and flesh as soft as precious metal.

Staple brains shut

stable veins touch

on the matter of fact

tap into the right picket front line of

defense

it's a homeland security breech

spies are on my mail

and

everything i write

is

translated

to braille.

insufficient funds

to replace

my fun

; i drink up to one-hundred-and-fifty bullet proof

in attempt to school

and drink

to you

under

the table you 

just

can't consume

.

rap right

and you'll

never

see the

light

.

~Touch what you think about. overstand homie?

piss off,

Digress.

I promise I didn't realize the connotations of this until after my professor read it out loud..

We played "telephone" in a class of about 18. My professor gave us a sentence of the first line of a poem. As it progressed, we came up with the fifth line of the poem. Much different from the first. Anyways, we used some sound in the poem and this is what, unfortunately, I innocently came up with. And I turned bright read after he proclaimed me "the best erotica writer he's ever had."

Untitled

Take stock of the rail yard and the smoldering sagebrush
Instead of pounding down ale after a game of frisbee;
So drunk the Grandfather clock fails to warn the men of the blushing
Young tart nearing an orchard to bring the boys something hairy and free
Tick-tock eating a peach, hanging in a tree.

God?

My Religion has failed me.
No longer am I a dropdowntomykneesinthemiddleofchurch kind of person.
Praying has seemed like a waste of time.
Theory states: one clings to ones religion because of needs; most common,
love.
Theory states: one who has no self confidence tends to cling to religion;
Theory states: we are religios because we are fearful, this is how we manage
terror.
Terror management. Like AA but you aren't drinkin.
So there for I question my "religion",
I believe, but I don't.
Now, doesnt the Bible say that or something along the lines of;
if you tell Him your hearts desires and whatnot, they shall be given to you?
Well i'm pretty sure that he knows;
then why in hell have I not gotten any of them?
Combat;
you could go in a believer and come out not...because if God is sooooo good, then why are you there in the first place? Why did he send you there? Why cant he protect the people that are dying right infront of you?
you could however go in not believing in a higher power, and become a walktothefrontofthealterandraiseyourhandstotheskyfornoreason kind of person.
Who am I to say?
I dont know whats real.
But believer I am no longer anymore.

Worth

The concrete pulls down hard on my deep breaths
inhaling violent smoke rings, lit by the pit of
an olive in my stomach

Ripped journals contain quotes of a time when
lilies floated on the neck of a wine bottle; a game of Twister with only dots
of red, striped sheets

But underneath the staff you hold, I cannot manifest how
my badge became so tarnished with spaghetti sauce
after an overheated attempt at cooking.

Worth

The concrete pulls down hard on my deep breaths
inhaling violent smoke rings, lit by the pit of
an olive in my stomach

Ripped journals contain quotes of a time when
lilies floated on the neck of a wine bottle; a game of Twister with only dots
of red, striped sheets

But underneath the staff you hold, I cannot manifest how
my badge became so tarnished with spaghetti sauce
after an overheated attempt at cooking.

Pornographic Living.

we tip bottles with impunity

as long as we can continue our sanity

taking deep breaths for all those drowned in vanity

and in this jail you only get one call of duty

this is the life you said would never suit me

and now i swim in bottle filled of induced clarity

you continue to pilfer from those who donate pedigree

and now i'm on one knee asking: will you please marry me?

we've got so much in common

we like to jump skeletons so often

pound flesh like we were laying in a coffin

death letters written to ourselves under the hearts we soften

with world wars under utility belts that we down play

to those with no idea of how far back our history rubs

and when i talk about content i tell them it's not like those other ones

we're unique to the point of obscenity we keep our identity

standing in a crowd, alone as an entity

time passes quickly when i'm inside of your infinity

and all my heart is devoted to your ability to make money

i love you for your body and how you live in places always sunny

and there's a bit of a draft between what we love and what we live

even bigger is what we receive and what we choose to give

and that's okay, because you F... the pool boy and i'm in an affair with the school toy

at the heavy teacher's petting zoo, we're gonna grab and fondle you

until you win the sexual science fair with your gorgeous hair that makes the crowd drool

it's an angel hair holocaust with every shower you take

and we can't quite figure out how often you fake

but we know you like it when i grab myself a rake

sift through turf in the undergarments

one day i'll place you in the La Brea tar pits

because your narcissism set me into the mood of crimes to commit

sitting on the sidelines while you wash the dishes and buy me socks

we all know you only married me because you like my...

but that's not the story you like to flaunt to the flock

and there's nothing left over in the refrigerated small talk

from inside out, i microwave all the things we spout to the city block

at the end of my career i was twenty two and i've mooched off of your stock

living in the limelight--giving you everything you can't count to

and now i'm just the strings on your shoe

tied once and tired out of view

now i'm sleeping on the solid decision walking in the freeway.

~Hollywood forever. an essay to write for your enjoyment.

Whiskey induced kisses; i really do love you,

Digress. 

The new chapter

as one page turns
another exposes the fine print
of what is yet to come.
allowing the pages to continue to fall
you can always go back
and see
see what once was.
to be left with the pages turned
and hidden in between the folded pages.
yet you left the window open and the pages turn,
quickly or slowly
back and forth from what was to what is.
now it's time to close the chapter of what was
and start writing a new one
exposing the only fine print
that you wish you could've seen.
slowly my pages have been turning
and i've been going back and forth
not allowing my new chapter to be written
now it's my chance
and i don't want to just yet.
i turned the pages back.
back to the day i felt safe.
only to find the wind blowing me back
to this scary part that i'm about to write.
i will never find myself peeking back at the pages
that once were.
but i know that all the pages to come
are because of what WAS.
a new page was written.
a new chapter just started.

Slipping subtle supplements of her instead of you, never seem to change the way I see the morning dew

As I carried her home she talked about such glorious things like sex and drugs and those moments in life when you are too fucked up to function.
I tried to explain to her about long poems, staring at her eyes and moments in life where you fell alive, but she didn’t hear me.
She was thinking different things while she dreamed on my shoulder.
When she was passed out on the floor she couldn’t understand that for the first time in my life I was right about something.
So I sat down uncomfortably in her room, and watched her sleep soundly half naked on the floor next to her bed, and I lit a cigarette.
I don’t put it out, but let it burn down to my finger tips and leave me slightly scared, so I don’t forget the night I finally spoke of love in a form I understood it.
I drove to the gas station, thought it would have been faster to walk, mostly cause walking would give me too much time to think about her waiting by her window, and besides, the headlights on the road somehow validate the lies I tell myself about the short comings of my life.
I promised myself that night that I would never let her tell me she loved me and mean it again, cause I could never tell her I love her and feel it again.

A Sign From Yves Tanguy.

i am prudent enough

to view superstition

as boondoggle

but

i am ascetic enough

to subscribe to it.

and now,

i find myself 

set aback

at my conclusion that

there is always something 

building towards me

building towards you

to expurgate our happiness

no matter which god you

favor.

~New cars, full of joy; old habits, full of anguish.

I don't have the right bandages for sexual healing,

Digress. 

Means:

they say its better to have loved and lost,
than to never have loved at all....
bull sh**.
save yourself while you can.
to have never loved means,
means to never have had your heart ripped out of your chest,
to never have had your lungs exploded up into your throat,
causing you to word vomit things you dont really mean.
save your tears for something else,
because Lord knows, they arent worth it.
to have never loved saves your brain from shooting out the top of your head.
never love. never ever.
to have never loved saves many gained hours of sleep.
to have never loved puts money back into your pocket.
they never loved you.
shut off, turn around, never look back.
never love. again.

poor ol' Kenny

He saw so many umbrellas when he fell from the sky that he thought the ground had grown a multitude of eyes. They opened wide. Dancing, water proof, multicolored vinyl beetles with pupils. The rush of air pulled back his lips into an ironic smile that he caught in the windows of the building he had just jumped off of.

Every night for two years straight he dreamt about this moment, and now it was finally happening.

Figures it would be raining, he thought.

A bird flew just underneath his torso, squawking madly and losing a feather. He tried to laugh but the rush of air had completely vacuumed out his voice.

Holy shit, he thought.

He suddenly realized how fast he was going. And that he had forgotten to go to confession. His Roman Catholic Grandmother had perpetually warned him of purgatory, and worse-- hell. He never completely bought it but went through with the motions just in case.

He couldn't remember if suicide was a mortal sin, but if it was, he wasted a lot of years reciting bullshit. And if God wasn't real, he wasted a lot of years reciting bullshit. And even if God was real, but he wasn't Catholic, then he wasted a lot of years reciting bullshit. The odds seemed against him either way.

Oops, he thought.

And then the standard pre-death memories started flashing before his eyes, too quickly to digest. Driveways and trains and tree houses and fences and then everything paused at seventeen years old. He was staring down, and he could still see the streets and umbrellas but he could also see threads on a quilt with ants crawling along the stitches.

"Baby let's get up there's gross bugs," his high school girlfriend had said.
"That's how picnics are supposed to be."
"I thought they were supposed to be romantic!"

The rest of his thirty-six years of life didn't have time to play.

And in that split second before hitting the concrete he changed his mind about wanting to die. But of course he did. Wouldn't you?

desire

i think about you far too often.
though you were entirly too easy to get over.
being around you this much a year later, breaks my soul.
you have mood far too fast.
i trail you in the dust when it come to love.
jealousy bleeds from my eyes.
jealous of your new found love.
i cry to let my weakness leave my body.
this smile is only fooling you.
my broken heart is tucked away deep inside my shallow breathing chest.
as my lungs take in the fresh air, of each new breat, my heart barly beats.
this body needs love.
these lips need to be embraced.
my hands need to be held.
but right now,
no love is better than your love.
and His love is better than all love.
this heart will soon be remembered.
thanking Him, and praying to Him.
i now know my hearts desire.

Tanks of Rust.

verge of death

end of hope

foreshadowing clarity

discrimination of the soul

hole in heart,

eternity growing larger

plain to see my eyes are gouged

spoonfuls of indigence being force fed

asleep at the wheel pondering dreams

conjuring thoughts of malodorous things

violence in my blood and daggers in my genes

pyramids of laughter being silenced by the scene

victimless crimes the infamy of design

the temperature festoons the highest line

covered in rust, dust, and slime

can't find the strength to get up and climb

eighteen wheels moving fast

pick a ride and follow the tracks

i'm heading out of here on straw that breaks backs

last lap and final coat, tell me where to shack

i set my self on fire for your capricious posture

now not knowing what to do, i sit and wait

drinking quickly to erase the pain of silence

no answer when questions asked and that's the issue

send mail to get mail, i wasn't expecting this.

ashtrays on the third planet swell to the size of seas

burning trees with souls filled with disease

filling whole hearts with cement, i no longer believe to repent

pills of anger and solicitations from beldams

posing no threats but causing all to reinvent

bedlam in the kitchen, sorrow in the cement

cement in the heart, violence in the blood,

pain in the water, relief in the whiskey,

it's not the sun, and it's not the moon

it's right in-between the stars and the fingernails

the expanse of nothing

agoraphobia and my deepest concern.

open ocean

haze at night

backwards image

mirror in the hallway

pens and paper for Yves Tanguy

a kiss to Matta

love letter to Georges Braque

and thoughts about Van.

and the one thing i'll never have

i have eighteen minutes left...

dress me up in plastic.

~Does anybody know?

Love,

Digress.

Doors

You reach for the handle, another door just waits for you to open it.
You grab on and twist.
The small creek of the opening door is all you hear
then you are
there, alone,
on a new path,
another door,
you just opened it.
You found a new way
a light that was once dim is now bright.
You reached out and found something to help.
You couldn't find the answers before,
now everything happens for a reason.
The door is creeking closed behind you.
A new life.
A new world.
One that was waiting to be discovered
not by everyone that has already opened the door
but by you.
The one that the door was made for.
The guideing hand helped you see
but now it's your time to run
to see where life can take you
to see where this door opened to.
run with it.
find your unsolved answers
find the truth in the words.

Dedication

Because this is a work of fiction, its dedication is as follows:

for Lazarus,

for the soon-found souls

every awkward kiss

the mistaken agendas inside ulterior motives

mending broken hearts

Your inanities

my Pretension

dedication

my terrible professors

the impossibility of existence

escape

the slow-cold drips of blood from my brain to my oil pan

Ascari A10

Oliver Cromwell (Lord Protector)

Keeping it Pithy

and Santa Fe Books (where would I be without you?)

not to mention my secretly developing dementia. 

In addition, I would like to not only thank but to also reciprocate the help of:

Eighteen minutes

the Doomsday clock

Death Letters

Suicide Notes

embellishment

spelling errors

and terrible grammar

Tonight, kind sir, I drink to you as well.

~Technological Regressionist who feels strongly for Assemblage.

Love letters to you Picasso,

Digress.

No Answer

I once knew there was something wrong with me

.

Lately the feeling

is that of

knowing 

something is wrong with you

.

But the feeling

is more communal

, like school pride

--which I lack deeply

--that something

is wrong with

us

and

as a whole

we are no good

.

So it's back to the

drawing boards

to develop more

crass and ignorant 

; bottom-feeders with growths, claws, and esurient

for anything that was once buoyant

.

And I wonder

what will happen to the

menageries when humanity has

departed with Earth?

~The best that I can.

Heart,

Digress.

Driving Slowly

I am a morbid person

Most 

strangers

think

that

I of 

all

are the

most

daft

.

Little

time

do they

invest

in thoughts

of mine

for

when

I hear

them 

talk

in their

banal

tones

, I cringe

to be

not only

in their

presence

but in

their

range

of oration

is the

most

courteous

and

benign 

thing

I can

do

for them

.

Later

, I will

commiserate

loudly

to the

ever 

dying

walls

and

try with 

all my

desire

that I

evaporate

.

No

Avail

.

Ever

.

~Happy Week. Happy Hour. Happy Month. Happy Birthday.

Heart,

Digress.

Now It's Complicated.

Walking to a macroeconomics

exam

at three-thirty

in the afternoon, sipping

slowly at an

Arizona

green tea

knowing that in

12 hours, i will still be

awake

in 16 hours i will still be writing

.

I arrive and sit in my desk

, like all the

other children, prepared

and excited for the

exam, i bravely

break out into

song about

money

money money

.

now i sit

12 hours in the future

trying to be a good student by 905 AM

. It might

not happen, but

at least, i'm giving it

a shot

in the pitch dark.

~Study all night. Study All Nighters.

Kisses and hugs and still forever yours,

Digress.

Evasively Inebriated

i'll spend most of my nights

doused in wine,

doused in the idea

of having more than i can chew.

i placed my teeth in the word

back when i was fifteen

ever since

the word has been attempting to hide

i found it again

under the last

night of the earth

and i found it again

hiding

in cold blood

behind the layers of Capote

it's there

in the hum of fluorescent lamps

behind the studs in the wall

in between the glass and the fortitude

it is the

zeros in your

phone bill

it's the lines on your

credit card bill

the word

is hiding behind everything

you just have to

be insane

enough

to read it.

~Classical Music.

Love,

Digress.

Life Gives Lemons.

i solicit sex scandals and wear no sandals

with years more on my love life, i've got something to share

bruised knuckles and broken hearts

bad haircuts and banging on the window

until the strangers are ready to drown

you wanna watch us all die

you wanna watch us all melt

and i just wanna watch us all laugh

cry and escape, because that's what becomes of us all

we're gonna meet our reflection in the mirror

and we should know that we reflect on every peer

sit still and keep yourself under the heart

i've got enough of the first part

bottle dreams and blurred night scenes

its an abattoir hidden under Capote

its the subtitle under the fine print of the brochure

the projects we continue to do after graduating high school

it's seven steps to the hell inside

and it's eighteen minutes to the death of laughter

enough of this, enough of that

art has died in my arms and

art has died in your own words.

~Painting in the back room, painting your face in the moon again.

I love you with every bone,

Digress.

A Flame Mesmerized

The room is getting smaller,
the walls are closing in
The world outside of ours is dying to get in.
Dying to interrupt our paradise
To make us feel small,
And unsure..

Baby, we’re getting smaller but we’re not gonna let them in
Hand in hand,
Mesmerized, we’re
Spinning…
Dancing.
To a beat matching that of our hearts
To the song no one else can hear
Nothing
No nothing…’s gonna tear this love apart.

Torches thrown,
in hopes of burning us down
But the only flame I see
is the glisten of fiery passion ablaze
in your gaze piercing my heart, my soul…
Menacing flames controlling the walls around us,
We are safe…
Upon our love
these flames cannot take hold.

Baby, we’re getting smaller but we’re not gonna let them in
Hand in hand,
Mesmerized, we’re
Spinning,
Dancing,
To a beat matching that of our hearts,
To the song no one else can hear
Nothing
No nothing…’s gonna tear this love apart.

The air around us is hazy
And clarity of direction is lacking
They say that the picture can only
Be black and white,
white and black.
There’s an in-between they fail to see
That’s as real as the air we breathe
Forever is how we want it
And that’s how it’s going to be.

Oh,
We’re getting smaller…
Not gonna let ‘em in.
Hand in hand,
Baby,
Mesmerized..
Hypnotized,
No one else can hear…

Low Gear.

Sitting in my room quietly

pondering the

future of nothing

and devising a new plan for excellence

.

I think about the black widows

late-night audible voices

how I cannot miss

this place

.

I fail to sleep anymore, the big

windows are cracked

with intimidation

the headboard is cemented in place

.

It is, though

common practice

to open up the mind and

listen to the dial tone slowly fade 

into the distance decay: just outside my mirror

.

~Eighteen minutes per day and i'm still ashamed.

Love,

Digress.

A Tragedy, Really.

Through my pitiful Myspace page

I have been eristically challenged

of my opinion on 

              existential matters

messages of dreary words

shooting back and forth in the vast-

impossible imagination of the internet

between my empty-headed

ideas portrayed stolidly

         and those

being broadcast through the

engaged stylus of

a broken 12"

        no mercy for the

        wicked    I suppose

and I find myself wondering

with each message

              , "how did I get into

                     this?"

I even initially  responded

to this pugnacious creep

with a letter

of (what i thought to be)

peaceful disregard

"I won't touch this topic because i find the

  argument to be

in vain and of vanity."

and now

         , knee-deep in her

horribly-crafted arguments

I submit the next chapter of my

            horribly-crafted retorts

~ This is what reading has taught me. this is what you taught me. this is what i won't do for you. this is what i haven't done for you.

Love,

Digress.

The Friendship Process

First, if you can get past my lewd
and unreasonable ideas
or if the timing is proper, you
get past my
sociopathic-taciturn nature
you'll find that i'm not the most
gracious of people
but, to you, it can be

categorized into

                 "personality"

. I'll become
a laugh-a-minute
        endeavor
                 for you

I alway seem to

         endeavor

next, you'll find that i have
some strange passive complex of despotism

, if you're lucky you won't ever
catch on to it
. then
, you'll see that my shrewdness and rancour
toward those
whom i deem the proprietors of intelligence
in a paucity
is probably the most ironic thing
you've ever seen
, if you're keen enough
on hoodwinking me

then, days

, weeks

, years later

i'll eventually become

frustrated with your inept
means of approach
and the lack of stolidity you
present or

, due to massive

embarrassment of my

strange despotism

, i'll either
slowly or abruptly
phase you from my ties of
communication
.

then i'll see you
weeks, years, months
later
and probably give you
a second chance
.
i don't think
               you, or i will
ever learn

~I'm in a bad way. still ill, but i love you all. all of you.

Love,

Digress.

meeting you

i lied when i said that
"im not scared of that mirror anymore!"
if only that statement were true at the moment.
i cant bare to look in that death trap anylonger.
its his fault i cant.
before it was his statements that made me believe.
he took the power of beauty away from me,
he stole my confidence and hid it from the world.
even if i muster up some confidence to get out of this room,
everyone will know what he has done.
you can see it in my eyes.
i feel it in my step.
it haunts me in my sleep.
i know you arent worth these tears,
and i wont remember you,
so help me God, i will never remember you.
this is truly my life regret,
ever meeting you.

Digress

I can't believe I'm still reading those insane rhymes. I just got a little nostalgic...

Take My Hand...We'll Make It

For once in my life I don’t have to try to be happy – now that I’m with you – I just am – all the time – even when I’m missing you – because I remind myself how fortunate I am to have you to miss. How fortunate I am to have such an amazing someone to love and have that love returned. I’ve got what most people spend their entire lives searching for – it found me…when I stopped searching it found me – it brought you to me…at the perfect moment…the moment when I needed you most…the moment when I couldn’t last any longer without you in my life…without you by my side. You came into my life at a time so perfect that it might as well have been written into a fairy tale – the day that the princess gets her prince. If my life was this written fairy tale – you are my prince. Not only are you my prince, but you’re my angel too. Now I know that sounds crazy, but hear me out. You’re my angel…that I have no doubt. You were the one prepared for me; the one who is meant to guard my heart…and guard it is what you have been doing. You’re the one who is to take my heart and put all the pieces back together…so you’re like the glue gun that is carefully gluing the pieces of my heart back together…and you are bedazzling it with your own special touch with each piece that you fix…you’re giving it your own flair…a flair that shows how unconditionally you’re going to love me…a flair that won’t be quick to lose it’s sparkle. I want that sparkling flair to not only remain but to grow into a radiant aflame wildfire that cannot be tamed. I’m counting on you to look after my heart because I can’t… I don’t have it anymore… you do. You’re the one who stole my heart and I’m glad it was you and no one else. Because in anyone else’s hands my heart would not be where it belongs…it belongs with you…my true love. The love between us is a love so true that truth itself seems to be false. A love that is like the world’s rarest priceless jewel…the rarest of them all for it only exists between us. A love that could be represented by a blue rose – if only it existed in natural form…for a blue rose would symbolize attaining the impossible…or the rarity of the one you’ve found. We have attained what many believe doesn’t exist…what many believe to be impossible to find… we have attained the impossible. Our love could be expressed through a red rose just as well. Everyone knows that the red rose is the rose of love. But what is commonly overlooked is that it also shows passion and undeniable romance…a desire that cannot be fulfilled loving anyone other than you… a love that is a rare red ruby in the darkest of hues. But nothing could ever come close to describe exactly how much I love you. The path that lies before us is long and winding and full of bumps and turns…but we can get through anything and everything…just take my hand – we’ll make it…I swear.

Blame Edgar.

I suppose you can blame Edgar
Purnell Hooley
for the fact that I
can't purchase a TVR in the
United States
and if i put Eco-Fuel
into a Koenigsegg CCX i'll be able
to access 900 break horse
power
. You can't drive a Porsche 911 GT1
in America because it
hasn't been crash
tested
nor does it have a
catalytic converter
but it was test driven in
germany for
27 hours with out
rest
and it
has participated
in thousands of miles of
racetrack
. Lotus puts two catalytic
converters on their
cars
for breathing
, they also make a Vauxhall
that
performs better in
turns
at a lower price
. American General
Motors cars
have automatic
gearboxes that know
nothing about shifting
and I can't mount slick tires
on my car
because that would be an
illegal
advantage over police
. Despite this, we still kiss under moonlit
skies and
huddled inside
of blankets
while the world
rotates
, while the dirt feeds plants
, while water reflects light
, and Edgar
quietly laughs in
his grave


I Blame Edgar
Purnell Hooley

Inventor of



~Sign here please. i must improve my passport status.

Love,
Digress.

World

It's like toweling off
after a long-hot
shower
with a cold-
damp towel

It's absolutely
like passing out before
dinner
or even, during

and

It's sad, just like poor
grammar
and typos in final
works

It's sad, exactly like holes
in umbrellas
or overgrown
lawns

but It is happening
in your own
overgrown back
yard

nobody cares to
nobody wants to
improve their grey-
matter
nobody thinks it
matters
anymore. and really
It doesn't now that we have
such
newfangled abattoirs

It
has grown
Into the ungainly old man down
the block
who walks in languid steps

taking each ascetic step

on time at
noon

each day,

just to make sure the world is
still
where he wanted it to be

pervading outside.



~Berceuse. By Chopin

Love,
Digress.

I gave up

Hey guys, i'm sorry, i gave up on writing for a while, and i don't really know why, but i think i'm gonna try again soon

We Wander Into Exams Without Knowing.

the sun screams
while the buildings watch
the concrete accuses
and the chairs forbid
the door closes
as though life were
being extinguished

the classroom feels like
1974 architecture
and
the floor-
tiles don't match
i can't muster
up the strength
or the will to
just put them in envelopes
and let somebody read
them
but Mussolini could

the voices of my peers
smell like candy
before it gets packaged

some look
for the before
some look for the
future
some look for the now
i keep looking for
reason

the books open impertinently
and my ears are shoved
full of forty-
million kilos
of cotton swabs


~Come watch me go broke. i am becoming a sick man.

Love,
Digress.

Don't Be Me.

i want to be the ground under feet and the voice over beats
doing good deeds and carrying out orders without cease
i want to own fast cars and move in style on the streets
heads turned for the flash of a headlamp and look of elite
i want to travel from here to there and experience every corner
giving out the information as though i was a donor
i want to be on the inside, and know every detail
to keep the wrongs from the rights and wind in the sail
i want to be sturdy like the truss under the train rail
creaking under weight but not relenting to the pressure
i want to be the point to your daily lecture
the ongoing commitment to speak for hours
i want to travel from the corners of east and west
so that i can search for a place to finally rest
i want to be the notebook that you study for the test
keeping you in check with the truth and the boundaries
I want to be the creator the movies with brand new scenes
challenging your eyes and producing pictures of dreams
i want to be a trillionaire with more money i can spend
but poor in the soul so i could never bring myself to ascend
i want to be poor on the streets rich only in my heartbeats
with millions of ideas and thousands of ways to achieve feats
i want to be the bass and the movement inside the club
so much poor grammar you don't know who or what i love
i want to be deployed over seas on humanitarian missions
helping out the people i will never be or greet with derision
i want to watch the earth melt as the sun explodes in an instant
the noise so loud humans will never hear the wounds of division
i want to know the truths of the universe
deciding whether or not the human race is truly cursed
i want to find my place in royalty
inheriting tracks of land and wealth dated ages back
i want to reach out to the poverty
experience the views of helping all those in the sewer
i want to watch the extinction of the dinosaur
cataclysmic events that unfold to the future inspector
i want to be the mouse on your computer
taking you to any place you travel virtually
i want you to become every part of me
and i want me to become every part of synergy
i want to blow a kiss from here to another galaxy
collisions so strong that the world breaks in tragedy
i want to go on break for the rest of my life
never have to deal with any of the hard s**t that bites
i want to speak every language and know all my rights
so that i could understand my place in every light
i want to escape prison without a hint of remorse
in the future i could get a job guiding tours
i want to paper your walls with money
diamonds and gems with pound sterling summary
i want to raise a child and put food in his tummy
so that he can become something better than his father
i want to have a room where nobody can bother
just me, music, whiskey, and the internal organ slaughter
i want to fly helicopters through bullets
delivering payload to those tough as drill bits
i want to be the suspension as the road twists
the calm road turns rowdy with the fist
i want to be you, and i want you to be me
so that we can exchange glances without the guesswork
then maybe we can turn this world into an exhaustion of torque.

~Considering dual citizenships. would you like to come with?

Love,
Digress.

come back to me.

how do i know if its time to move on?
i can never be too sure.
all i ever needed was you.
and and
whenever i am lonely,
whenever i am sad,
whenever i need,
whenever i want;
i need to see you,
i need to feel you,
i need to know you are here,
i need to know you watching;
and and
every night in my dreams,
i feel you,
i hear you,
i see you.
and and
every morning when i wake up;
you aren't there,
i can't feel you,
i can't hear you.
and and
every night i;
pray for help,
a sign to know the truth,
to hear those words one last time,
just whisper them into my ears,
draw them on my back,
make me guess what you are saying,
write it in the stars.
tell the world you still do, and always will.
and and
tell me its okay to have someone else.
tell me to stop crying,
stop worrying,
stop pushing people away.
and and
just come back to me.

second round of this

here we go again,
writers block,
i have so much to say, but
clearly i dont have the right words.
so much on this mind of mine,
i need to rhyme.
let it out, spit it out.
its right here...on the tip of this tongue.
i need these creative finger tips to tell you my story.
it goes like this;
this and that,
her and him,
me and them,
why me oh why me?
insted of girls, girls, girls,
boys, boys, boys.
smoking in the boys room,
smoking in the quad to forgetting he even was alive.
all i know, i cant fight this way.
dont know what we are fighting for.
i could tell a million lies, but it would be no inch closer to the truth.
there is a time, and a place, all i know is i gotta make it right this time.
time to move on.
get me out of here.
its like im here, but with out me.
cant stop the hurt inside.
----not creative enough.
how can i spin these words to make it pretty, and make you want to read it,
make you want to write about something.
write about something that you so deeply care about, or have to get off that chest.
write, i say write.

me-town 101

i want to stand around and look and have the choice to choose the shoes i wear to this college thing more accurately referred to as a booze...fest. where you lose all sense of whose clothes are whose and on those half drunken sundays lay on hammocks and muse about nights before (the ones you lose) and when PROfessionals get the news of your booze...fest they sit and they tell you you abuse. this substance called alcohol. and you say i don't abuse, i aMuse and it's my source of power and freedom and i refuse to believe that this amber liquid i use for my metaphysic speeches may bemuse those who look to me for less falses and more trues. and occasionally, only simultaneously, will i excuse myself from my shoes-choosing and my booze...fest to contemplate what the PROfessionals tell me that what i'm really doing is lose...ing myself and i've got to stop reusing the same jokes at different times. and this perusing usually almost always imbues me with an idea that i need to choose better shoes. to wear.

Elevator Shafts

The end of the world slowly
drags it's desperate body
along the turns of Nüburgring
which so aptly have caused
more concerns of safety
than anything else

The end of the world
slowly watches as
the date changes from
one facially of a day
to another lie of a day

The end of the world
approaches keenly and
without prejudice
he watches as the Earth
spins in it's obliviousness

The end of the world
slowly scrapes the surface
of the earth
with overgrown fingernails
and non-empathetic virtue
he sheds tears for the act

The end of the world
pumps the accelerator
in the corkscrew of Laguna
, no empathy
just dissatisfaction

The end of the world
feels no remorse for
what it is about to do

The end of the world is
slowly creeping up
just like the sunrise
just like the springtime
just like tomorrow



~American Le Mans Series. investigate it. maybe, just maybe it is the key to the universe.

Love,
Digress and his ever-lasting obsession of Le Mans.

What Is This?

What is this? When a jolt in my soul is felt every time a kiss is shared, a whisper is spoken, a touch is felt? It’s something that is indescribable, yet completely self-explanatory. It’s something that not only fills my heart, but overflows into my entire body and soul. It’s about the chills that hit every part of my spine when I think about him. It’s a color that can never fade. It’s something that can lead us to the place called forever. It’s the magnificence seen by sincerity revealed through his eyes. It is the feeling that still lingers long after our kiss is over. It’s something that can weather any storm and it’s a teardrop in a rainstorm. Though our relationship contains distance between us, it’s like the wind to a fire. It puts out the small ones, but enflames the big ones. And even though he is some distance away he can still make me smile. He’s not one of the reasons why I’m happy all day long or why I’ll never feel alone again. He’ll never be one of the reasons…because he’s the ONLY reason. I can’t get him out of my head. Every little thing that he does just strengthens everything that I feel. It’s the way he makes the setting sky more beautiful to gaze upon. It’s the way our hands match perfectly – the spaces between our fingers were created so that our other half could fill them perfectly. It’s the way he catches all of my attention with out ever saying a word. It’s the way I get weak at the knees when I get lost in his captivating eyes and it’s the way I can’t breathe when I’m around him. It’s the way my heart skips a beat when I see him and the way my heart can feel him there even when he’s miles away. It’s the way he makes me fall all over again like I did the first time. My knees went weak and I couldn’t catch my breath the first time we really kissed. And now every time he really kisses me, even if it’s as simple as a kiss on the nose, I feel that way over and over again. He is the piece to my life puzzle that I have been waiting to find…and he fits perfectly. So what is this that I have been describing? I’ll leave that up to you to figure out…

It Rises In The West & Sets In The South...

the sun rose in the west today, the people panicked
i started living my life backwards, enjoying the way the populous interacted
now the wales cry for the one last word that survives their language
it sounds like "wwhhaaaa" but couldn't possibly be a portion of the intuition
just a series of examples of pain that can never be expressed

today the sun broke into a thousands shards of silver lined glass
sending the emotions of the suicide to an even higher level of forevers
the eyes of the forgotten are lined with undisclosed last words
tear-stained shirts impaled with the nevermore swords
mantra paintings on the floor tiles stained with the innocence of wine

the people watch me from afar and judge my next actions in a suitcase
they find the examples of the common sociopath to be my everyday pace
i sit here with no satisfaction and full of broken space for my place
roomers wait for me to evaluate their glimmering shadow puppets
tomorrow will be the day for the darkness to fall to the righteous

yesterday was the last time i actually evaluated love
i asked it the questions i've always asked myself
and now i realized that nothing quite aligns with the formats
love produces a feeling much like the swing of a bat
the impact is soft but firm, fair and balanced, common like the rat

tomorrow i will awake and not remember the previous evening
i've lost my memory and can't quite grasp the feeling of being
no longer am i real, yet nothing around me is fake
piled up--i am like the dormant leaves under the rake
here i am awaiting trial by the children who play

you follow your problems by running from them
little do you know that the mirror is your issue
you can't look back into it without severing a limb
extremities of yours can't handle the abuse
but you're addicted to the pain you constantly re-use

weeks ago i dealt with the time it took to ride the bus
here i am forgetting that you would actually one day trust
other objects to tell you it was now and not later
and when death is your only friend you'll understand too
there time pieces are nothing but a waste of your time

i lied when i spoke about my past
and i couldn't stand what it brought back
i keep trying to white it out with poison
but ghosts haunt to remain annoying
and that's why guillotine traps are set for regret

i was living in a california castle one afternoon
anguished by the hectic noise of the highway
i looked into the courtyard and there stood a man
the crow cawed for his loss of ability to stand
for the love he would never come to know

winter passes in the shortest breath of mother earth's chest
whispers are cast in the season of the dead that keep it blessed
no longer will there be a solstice but the weather will continue to contuse
the animals of the wild with no relevance of mortality
mother earth passes messages in class just like the rest of humanity


~Earth mounds and slow fevers. heal shortly, don't fall short of healing.

Love,
Digress.

In The Mirror

i slept with Human Perfection and awoke a new man looking in the mirror for bad ideas
then, giving up the concept completely; i found use for the tears
falling with consistency and cracking all the mirrors
bad luck came with the rising of the sun, it'll last for years she can help me forget
she smiles at me and gives me a kiss and fades back into the forgiving loveliness
Human Perfection is funny, she's oblong and soft, watches me with brown eyes that wring
all the clouds into the feathers of birds with everlasting wings, for me they're simply beating
i approach Human Perfection with caution, i must not harm the love that's fleeting
keen nights are spent in the eyes of lost bears, searching for the findings of the peers
we keep our kisses secret and overwhelm the presence of our held hands held so dear
we speak with clarity and keep the memory of the beginning times without a fear
slowly--we elaborate to keep big bangs under the countertop, enveloping the invention
i approach her with the posture of a simple innovation in the common messages mentioned
though it's trite and can be often amused, we can't speak to the thoughts we haven't abused
as i vanish into the distance i think of the presence and how it changes my perception
i bide my time until i give her two more cents for wandering eyes to mention
top to bottom she begins each motion with a simple contraction of the beauty
keeps it close and watches as the ocean evaporates for her feet to find me
framed in the lids of eyes that shine with the brilliance of one thousand suns
once placed under the gun, rushed emotions flourish able to pinpoint where it begun
the epicenter of an earthquake to keep the neighborhood awake, our minds are spun
around the ideas that never quite make it to the lung and out the mouth
taking steps around the lake and discovering the sensual things we dream about
we spin in flat circles at the end of the day, looking for the end of the couch as not to fall out
carried away in the passion of the last words and the beginning of new actions never before forged
ironclad and doused in wine we talk tables and reference future in the most current of terms
and sleeping with Human Perfection has been the best lesson i have learned


~Love poems again.

Love,
Digress.

Technically Twisted.

we're not technically on the same page

but the thought of your ghost haunts my age

i'm caught between the hard place of last moment

and the rock of my first atonement

the twisted shapes of your soul carry me to a new level

and the last words i spoke were of your upheaval

how you tore into flesh and left me minus breath

torn 

from head to navel

so breathe easy in the glimmering shutters of my eyes

draw silence from the last passenger of your thighs

this was the motion sickness you injected into my lives

the boat is rocking from the tsunami you produce

cut my noose and let me loose

the rope tightens on not only my wrists and neck

but on the vacancy of your first-born shipwreck

no need for rescue

we're dying in this mess

together we drown in the sorries we deliver

without a whisper from twisted tongues 

we lie in a watery grave

for us, the bell is rung

and no longer will we invent

nor live the love that once was

because because because

and this is the last thing i'll leave you with:

a love letter from the me that refused to shift

to capital letters producing the warning of a new sentence

and the empty gains of a horribly-misguided inventions

so goodbye old friend

i'll let go as soon as your memory is dead.

~Dead to me, but not to the world. goodbye old friend.

Cuddles and Kisses,

Digress

An Ocean of Sickness

i'm sick and dizzy, my brian feels pressure with impunity
a hate has boiled over and i can't control her
give me something else to alleviate the pain
the pressure is building and i'm wracking my brain
this is the last straw, i'm gonna punch somebody in the face
and it's going to go down on my permanent record and not erase
because the person lives with me and sleeps next to my place
that i claimed mine at the beginning of the year
and i thought that i my thoughts would be clear
but now i can't stand just the thought of this
because you've tightened my life into fists
and now you come into the story
enter left stage, because now you've entered the story

i'm surrounded by trite cliches
thinking that they're unavoidable
and that they're not the soil
they try to break me down as a man total

grab the matches and let it soak they will all appreciate the joke
after they realize it's not exactly something to take light
because this is the spark of not a war but a fight
step forward and take the responsibility of tonight
if you really think you're on top come talk to me with sight
clarity beyond most is what i'll present to you with a bite
burn your clothes and melt your hair under the flame
this was the last time that i let you enter my brain
broken records repeat the last sign that your lame
as a thinker and an scholar, how far will you go
before you realize you don't contain the capacity to show
the world exactly what you want to be
i struggle the same way, but at least i don't need to lean
on the most obvious choice for the typical parasite
because that's what you are--an insect of the populous

i'm surrounded by trite cliches
thinking that they're unavoidable
and that they're not the soil
they try to break me down as a man total

how dare you, place me in this position
now i've got to make this incriminating decision
whether or not to enjoy your company
i feel like i want to ostracize what you mention
or maybe i just need to get in detention
so that i can stay away from the moments of your invention
and your emotions are the volcano of my tension
so why oh why did you place me in this?
am i just a symbol of where you'd like to piss?
or am i the creation of everything you miss?
i don't want to know the answer because i like a little mystery
i don't think you even know the answer to my misery
but that's okay, because it's your trite nature
to be something that nature couldn't nurture


~If i only got along with all these people. but i don't... and in a way, that makes me happy.

Love,
Digress.

real women

its tough you know not yet being in the real world with real women and real men and not being taught that in the real world the women look like me not like my skinny little roommate its hard to hear that from a real woman still yet no graduated from college its hard you know looking in that mirror and only seeing what i see that body of mine that hair of my that skin of mine and then and then and then turn around and have someone tell me that i am beautiful its its its just not right because why cant i see it and why can i feel it and why cant i know it its hard you know learning to love whatever you got its hard when you bust your butt in that gym everyday waiting and wondering and hoping and wishing and praying for a better you for a better me why cant i learn to love me?

A Different Kind Of Wrong

Have you ever felt something that felt so wrong, but somehow you knew that it was right? That you were supposed to be feeling that way? And maybe not wrong in a normal sense of right and wrong as we learned as young kids – but a much different kind of wrong. A wrong that goes beyond what an expert would tell us is the correct definition. A wrong that feels so wrong only because it’s so right. And the only reason why it feels right is because it’s something so unfamiliar. It’s something that we have never felt before. We’re not quite sure how to handle it because we’re used to something that’s completely opposite. It just feels wrong…but in a right way. This wrong feels so right because perhaps for once in our life, we want to believe that things are going to be different. That things won’t always be defined in our lives by the cliché definition that the world makes us believe. A wrong that makes us feel hopeful, possibly even pure, a wrong that we want to feel forever – even though we know that forever wouldn’t come close to being long enough. This feeling is something stronger than we’ve ever felt before… but why do we feel so weak? It’s a weakness that is terrifying, overwhelming, and it scares us to death. Our first instinct would be to run…but we cannot run away from weakness – we sometimes have to fight it out – or maybe just run along side of it to see where it might take us. It could bring light to that flame in our heart that has been burning out for years…or bring to life a passion that should be gracefully felt out. Leaving that passion unattended would burn the flame to its own self-destruction. This passion is temptation that is silenced by a ray of hope – and sometimes this ray of hope is dimmed by issues of trust that have troubled us in our past. But we must learn to believe that our heart will not always be handled as it was before. That we will feel hands of a gentle and comforting nature instead of always rough and controlling. A pair of hands wrapped around our heart with a sign saying, “I will handle-with-care”, and during the moments when we cannot see him, our hearts can feel him there. I feel him there.

Deleted By The Artist.

it's not about losing my own life
it's about keeping it from becoming something real
i don't want to live in the land of your corporate zeal
and you think that everything we do is approved with a seal
by the overhead divinity with no limit to his invisibility
the angles crumble and fall at the foot of thicker heads
bouncing back and colliding with the humans labeled dead
we're trapped in the pages of an exhausted photo album
watch us all stand still while the cold sets in // we're so numb
growing old in the afternoon never kept us in perfect shape
no matter what we die in the night as the sun sets on life's mix tape
we've got parasites and vestiges, ghosts and anecdotes
keeping us all from becoming victims of the loss of hopes
little do we think about how much we become the center of our own jokes
it's a laughing stock for the traveling man and a build up for the vagrant
leaving us here bleeding on the pavement
wisdom has been lost in the shadow of the life we live
and now this thoughtlessness has brought us down to our dirty knees
begging for a vision of the next big things, a vision the man sees
here it is on a silver platter, a feast for you to keep score upon
just make sure you understand that we are the only animal who wants to live long
we are the only animal who's stopped evolving because our hearts are revolving
falling in love is not a human thing, it's a people thing
a Sociocultural difference in the creation of herds and the creation of cities
grazing for thin heads and airy eyes
we keep ourselves away from home because we disintegrate our lives.

~Who can Al-loop? me. that's who.

Love,
Digress' local hairdresser.

sisters

i believe
i used to believe
i believed
in sisterhood.

sisterhood bonds should never break
i learned that from my grandma.
i dont know if she likes the choice she made.
she doesnt talk to her sister....
but at this point.
sorry grandma.
this sister is out of here.

every corner i turn im being
blamed
called names:

fat

ugly

stupid

FAT

she really knows how to bring a sister down.

i thought that i did nice things for her,
but in return
nothing.

names again:

the b word

stupid b word

i hope you, you know.

she really knows how to bring a sister down.

apparently i have more important things to do.
you know like


eat.

Please Hate Me.

There's a cowboy in that
office
and the television tells me that they
are blowing things up for
a good cause
and if i don't return a phone call in the next ten
Ow!ers. i'll probably end up
living in the streets for the
rest of my life
and my parents don't
want me to be broke
but the television has told me to watch for
the side effects
and consult my doctor

i think one of the
only people who've understood me
and helped
me
hate me now
, and i've decided that
i don't quite trust my doctor
and if i did
i'd let him know about the things that crawl on my
insides
the television has diagnosed me
and
i'm depressed.
no longer
am i repressed
i'm in america.

a few days ago i
decided i'm going
to get a
dog
and now i know that there's a difference
between knowledge and
intelligence
knowledge is being able
to present
the information you know
at the drop of a
nickel
whilst intelligence is
the ability to distract the audience
from the real answer:
them none the wiser.

~kisses all over your political face. MUAH!!!!!

Love,
Digress.

Still Frames

the bricks are crying
windows crack with the brazen sounds
street signs seem to be bottled up into
enormous knots that scream at
my eyes
the snow shouts as it passes my face
my body, my hair
my joints burn with
every single

movement

the world is in a fog
that doesn't inhibit vision but
painfully overexposes vision
everything is a
tantrum
my Krebs Cycle
vomits bile
and
i can't stand the sound of the
porcelain or the feel of this
morning



devastated again
just thinking about how
i've wasted

~Paranoia has treated me well.

Love,
Digress.

Foolish Letters.

go ahead and misinterpret my words
its a hit or miss game, my points are absurd
so why do you read what you read and write what you write
when you can't think of anything but how much you want to spite?
your over-indulgence in the emotions you hate, you feel so trite
i touched your fingertips and you give me the same ish
just a bunch of problems i don't want to solve and you don't want to haul
i'll be here keeping secretes safe no matter how small or how tall
if your looking for me i'll be off telling the story
audience's faces full of disbelief and hate for the one who would dare to leave
pushing me to a state to where i couldn't even breathe or sleep
you haunt my dreams like a well dressed wax figurine
i don't know where to go when you've come after me
and reading these love notes you send to me indirectly
have got me cringing at the thought of how we shared intimacy
in shattered patterns of broken mirrors with no signs of relevancy
to how much our toilet parts shared the satisfaction of regency
there was an absence of free will monarchy
all because you convinced me to just
love me love me

~Half finished, never a break. break away from me.

Love,
Digress.

:life. almost.

its simple.
this year i want to make life right.

see what happens when i play by the rules.
drop all the b.s. and get down to it.

write down everything i learn.
write down everything i know.

tell someone my story.
teach someone about life so far.

learn to love again.
show some respect.

not to judge.
not to scold.

listen a little more.
pray alot more.

tell them i love them.
show them i can.

prove to him i will.
give up nothing.

live for everything.
period.