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.