"Are you listening?"

these words are not going to make sense to a lot of people. this is going to be a "what the hell is going on here" situation.
incognito without the anonymity and secrecy. but isn't that really what you want.
you don't just stand there and talk shit without wanting to someone to hear it.
or send little glares and snide remarks without the accused just mere inches away.

hushed lips speak harsh words.
closed lips dagger the innocent.
open mouths release egos.

this makes sense to me.
i lost my fame for the thrill of the game. the infamy tastes sweeter than you'd ever know.
it's better than being a coward.

please.

don't screw this up for me.

nine minutes to battery death.

i'm trapted in a world full of false prophets and fake saints. say what you want about me but never to my face. dig in the nails and stomp on the cuts. throw some more salt into my wounds; i love the way you have torn me down into the negatives.

fractured lies aren't repairable.

everybody stops and stares and wonders why. there are silent tears, and you're shaking. but you can't explain it. sitting in a cage, you are at the zoo. you are the zoo. you are in this barred contained and someone cut off the air.
you scream, but there's no noise.
the people take pictures and the children laugh. it's not like the bystanders would understand anyway.

clean wrists. it's refreshing and original.
there is no blood on my hands tonight.
and neither yours, but really. how long is that going to last?

i slammed my car into the median for the thrill. the front end bent with perfection but the seat belt didn't snap the way i wished it would. predictions of flying through windows were off, but we'll make it happen.

i wrote 'i believe in miracles' but i am a convicted and charged liar. or am i.
i would say i make miracles happen, but i'm no god in this sick, twisted dimension you've weaved.

the creator destroys the creations with ease.
thank you for taking me away.

every failure has their day

i do believe in miracles, but not that way you force me to create them. i am going to prevail.
stunned isn't the write word, but it's the first that i believe you will experience.
your hilarity is amusing to everyone else who is dead inside.
congratulations; let's have a party for your soulless demeanor.

home is where the heart is

and i'm the worst criminal here.

The clock on the wall says:

tick.
no sound.
tock.
no call.
tick.
no voice.
tock.
you're a waste.

The nowhere kid.

"where are you going with your life? you're a loser."
i'm not exactly sure why i keep coming back to this. don't cut me down and then try to pick me up again- it doesn't work like that. you know it too, so i don't know why this keeps going on.
if the early bird gets the worm, you're the one that's been waiting for days.
there's all this talk. these worms, they aren't quiet. they know you're waiting. they know that i'm waiting too. so what ends up happening?
you clearly become frustrated and leave like we know you will while i sit and wait.
wait with my current no-direction life.

is it better to be the hypocritical elitist, or the nowhere kid?
who's the winner?
is the one who is a whole lot of talk and lies but can force themselves through any situation better?
or is it the one who manages to get by with a masterplan?
again, the answer is obvious.
the elitist will always be the better one; they have the plan and force it down everyone's throat whether they want it or not.

i'm a nowhere kid.
right now, i'm going nowhere.
the only problem for you is how you're going to react when i make it.
nowhere kids become somewhere adults.
not strungout fakes.

your session is up; hand back my keys.
i'd like to give someone who is actually worth my time, thanks.

Being a douchebag is the new black.

i'm sick of it.

Pantoum - April 14th, 2008

“Don’t forget your jacket!”
It was a simple friendly gesture.
Sitting out on the concrete steps, I wait.
A bright smile was on his face as he took a seat beside me.

It was a simple friendly gesture.
A gift he had, for my mother.
A bright smile was on his face as he took a seat beside me.
Black.

A gift he had, for my mother.
Screams of horror and terror filled the air.
Black.
“Where is Sean? Where is he? What’s going on?”

Screams of horror and terror filled the air.
His picture was displayed in front of the black clad men with badges.
“Where is Sean? Where is he? What’s going on?”
This was the most sympathetic look I’ve ever seen.

His picture was displayed in front of the black clad men with badges.
“Check the boxes.”
This was the most sympathetic look I’ve ever seen.
Fragments of people, kept in containers for miles to see.

“Check the boxes.”
Frozen with horror; this was my fault.
Fragments of people, kept in containers for miles to see.
These dreams I have; they are my fault.

Frozen with horror; this was my fault.
Sitting out on the concrete steps, I wait.
These dreams I have; they are my fault.
“Don’t forget your jacket!”

Nothing quite says "fuck you" like you do.

i feel like i haven't been alive in over a week. i cannot concentrate, cannot sleep, cannot be awake.
i cannot be anything more than a walking zombie.

maybe this is a reflection of myself. maybe i am not good enough to be alive. maybe, possibly, i am not human. i am bones and flesh that manage to get through each long day. i drone and shuffle like everything else. i am not me, but i am a mirror image of what i am supposed to be.

society molds us in the worst way possible.
crazy talk and silent exchanges.
i am the drug dealer and you are the preacher.
in the end, we're both sinners.
and we're all going to hell.

The trips to the hospital are even too cheap for the bums.

there is a bird outside of my window. he's singing the details to anyone that will listen.
will he sing to you?
does he sing to me?
who is really to be certain.

i can't really decide what i'm going to do yet.
i'm not even sure what i can do.
this should be really scary, but it's actually not.

i should be scared, but i am not.

"Life is the kindest gift of all."

let's save time by taking the longer drive.
there is no middle road. there is no left. there is no right.
i think we're pretty lost.

speaking of lost, let's talk about the standards of society.
how one becomes higher up on the food chain than the other.
how one can call out the picking order like a dictatorship in the community.
how one really has no power at all compared to the amount of power the community has.
i'm setting you up for disaster. i hope you like it just as much as i have.

what might be reality for some is the lie for others.

i don't understand. it's not that hard to get; i don't understand.
i don't understand.

first, we take the i out of you.

i can dissect you right here and right now. your guts are laying open on the table. i know your insides. i know what you think.
" we are all only of what we make ourselves to be."
you made yourself into a coward.
a liar.
a fake.
then again, this is the society we live in today. everyone is molded into the exact same thing.
we are all copies of each other. i am a copy of you, and you are a copy of me.
this is how we live in the world today.

in other news, i am excited to be speaking with you.
what's your melodrama today. that is not a question. that is the statement that describes your life.

live your li(f)e.
everyone writes their own history. i think my history book is pretty boring. there's not a lot of exciting things to pop out yet. at least my book isn't shitty. maybe pissing people off are what will make or break my best seller.
half a person living tenth of a life. i think people who don't live should get married; maybe they'd be closer to feeling real.

why yes, this is your captain speaking. currently we're at the beginning of the end, taking our own sweet ass time to our destination.
do you have a problem with that?
good. because it doesn't matter. you're on this road, and you're going where i am whether you like it or not.

we all go somewhere in the end.
i'm probably going to be the one eaten by worms though. it's totally going to happen.

ps: i know you're reading. i know you want me to say something about you. to fuel the fire, since everything either of us say or do is like dumping gasoline onto something already volatile. kids playing chicken with each other's heads.
i'm not that scared; you should be.
too bad i'm not saying anymore than that. sorry to break your hopes, kid.
i think you just need to stay away.

the end. welcome home.