There's an ailment in me,
I can feel it everywhere;
behind my knees,
deep down my eyes.
It runs deep under my skin,
It claws down my throat,
It craws up my bones,
it wakes up my brain.

It takes me from order to chaos.
It turns from finite to infinite,
Like darkness at night.
But it doesn't make me fire,
It doesn't turn me into light.
It just turns me into a hunter,
which prey is the shadow of a final thought.

Perhaps I should just forget the noise,
try to create the most alluring poetry.
Give birth to a beautiful sentence,
write the perfect words to please the lovers.
Yet I'm unable.
There's just so many other paths for me to take,
To create, to follow,
To pull others with me.
"I think I'll stay on this path.
This one's also good, though."
And just like that.
My future mutates,
Day by day, hour by hour.
Book by book.
Even my religion and ideologies change with every thought.
But I'm always moving forward.
Always, always forward.
Or so I think...

Maybe we are never here, nor behind, nor in front.
Maybe we're all just a stirring combination of am and to-be.
That would explain so many things,
Cuz lately 'I've been trying so hard,
So, so very hard.
To cross this difference of planes.
But this task seems doomed to begin with.

It's time to go now.
It's time to wake up,1
Time to change, again.
So I rise to the moment,
and I discard the past.
Forever new,
forever young, right?

Finally ready for all departures
I'm starting my life all over again,
for the hundredth time.

Insanity is change, is evolution, is repeat and reverse.

If you ask me,
I'm not the crazy one.
Lord no, not at all.

Crazy is the double standards.
Crazy is the blind loyalty to convention.
Crazy is the reluctance to live in today.

I'm not crazy.

I've said that sentence too many times in my life.
So many times.
I almost, almost believed it.

Heh, I can remember.
And really remember, not just recollect,
What, as you like to call it, insanity feels like.
And you wouldn't believe the beauty in it.
A beauty you can exist in.

Not with,
Not view,
Not hear.

But a beauty you are.
And you want to damn me for this.
You want to damn all men for this craving towards a beauty you can't grasp.

Hah. Funny thing.

We, the crazies, don't hate you.
We don't fear you.
We don't pity you.

You're an animal.
You're running on instinct,
And you're not worth acknowledgment.

Harsh?
Perhaps,
But then again, we know you conventionalists have never had a stomach for truth.

We're not alone.
Not as bodies.

But really?

We'll never share each other time.
Anything, really.
And it feels great.
Too much emphasis I've seen,
On people betting on people to give them hope.
Joy.
Love.
Happiness.

Look inside,
Realize.
You're alone.

So smile.
Accept.
Embrace.
Love.

Film is truly a blessed art.
Films are a tool of the mind to reproduce, or rather attempt to reproduce, analogues in such a way that we are totally encompassed.
Brilliant, really.
And I'm sure, not intentional.
Not at first, anyway.
And changing the subject i've been wondering...
Why do we think heaven is a utopia?
To be honest, I'd much rather live here.
I don't want perfection!
Because what people call perfection, to me, seems like inane existence.
That's not perfect.
I much prefer the struggle towards Dynamic quality, which is not truly a goal, but rather a means of attaining THE goal; truth.
My, am I in a mood to write.
I'm just so tired of "hanging out" and wasting my mind's precious time.
And I'm about out of space.
But Lord that doesn't make me done.
I need MORE.
My mind is terribly hungry.
Self taught Nietzsche and Kant and Sartre and Pirsig are grand and all, but I need some direction terribly. I'm no philosopher. No, not yet. Laugh out loud, how fitting is it, that our intellect, the possesion that seperates us from fouler beasts, is so terribly insignificant to the universe.
It is simply an interesting line from one of millions of scenes belonging to thousands of acts that accumulates into what we call the universe.
We think we have a capability for truth? Hah.
People are terrified of the truth. They vilify it.
Look to religion.
Damns the mind for inventing such terrible lies that the universe tells us.
Why are we so reluctant to cast our eyes upon truths unnerving?
Do we honestly believe that, if ignored, such truths will change?
I hope humanity hasn't become so 'blissfully' ignorant.
Ah. I feel so much better.
Take my advice, if you read this, find a hobby.
I'm no messiah I know.
To be honest I'm just a fucked up girl looking for her own peace of mind.
It's truly humorous and depressing to think about how many people discount what I think with one of two cliche sayings like "You think you know everything." "You are so weird" This last one really makes me laugh, actually.
It's totally a last resort of the unimaginative.
For some reason, they think if they point out that I have conviction in my beliefs,They'll fall? Oh well. Enough rambling.
This is for me, anyway.
Not for you.
Not for anyone.
Just me.
You can read, though.
Go ahead read and try to pretend you know me.
That might seem like a joke, but it's not.

Until then : I don't love you all.

FEEL THIS:

Love.
Passion.
An amalgation that fills up the gap.
That goes deep beneath the surface of our skin.
Running thru our veins, melting with out blood
Directly to our bones.
No point in controling it.
Or trying anyway.
It's arousing,
It's electric.
When it reaches you,
you are changed.
Forever.
So let it in.
It's always worth it.
Besides, life is no waiting room.
We should never wait to see what will happen.
Only action can set us free from the frustration of inaction.
There is always more to discover, you know.
More to learn, more to taste, more to feel.
How badly I wish you were here.
So when the next moon arises,
Will you meet me at forever?
I would love nothing more,
than to get lost with you there.
Oh dear, I need to see you seeing me,
We need to feel each other, deeply.
So will you please come over and ruffle my sheets?
We could change our names.
We could lose our color and our appeal
Tangle me and entrap me in them.
We should lose ourselves, completly.
Life is too short
Soon we'll be dead.
So lets not hold back.
Lets keep on trying,
and keep on loving.




Dont you want to feel my bones in your bones?

There's no point in changing your mind,
When it's easier to detach mine.
Time to fly away in forms of flora.
And we're soaring,
Ignoring,
Feeling,
Especially an aversion to kneeling.
When suddenly,
Some turbulence unveils itself as an epiphany:
I can't see the point.
Laughing,
My soul pained,
I scream at everything I've ever known:
"We're all liars, lying to try and tone down death"
Existence shudders.
Unspeakable words spoken breaking bonds of convention.
The walls are falling in,
Tides are coming soon,
And I've got nowhere to run,
No reason to, either.
I can feel it all flowing through,
Curving my mouth up and up.
With this smile,
I relate.
I communicate,
All the while,
Alone.
Even with you all around me.

The land grows cold
when the wind speaks
whispers of the unfinished symphony
of an earth gone mad
you and yours alone
will see things through
all the while a great wind
carries me across the sky

I say no more.
I say Truth.
And Love.
And Freedom.
I accept myself,
I accept my world,
and I accept my impending doom.
I will live now,
awake,
no longer sleeping,
no longer a machine,
free from possession.
My thoughts are my own,
no one can take them from me.
They are all I have.
Doing something,
acting,
willing myself to be,
this is most important,
or else I give up being.