when you see what do you see?

a tiny part of a word

a word

a few words joined together

by a fleeting thought

that must make you feel so special

do you really think the group of words came from you

do you really think the focus of this should be you

or the object which your limited mind is trying to make sense of

do you think your limited mind can really comprehend the whole

a simple logic of past experience trying to make sense of what is before her

it will always be limited

by a past that is limited

and can never remember the whole

only parts it wants to see

to justify the needs of its present

so why is I ask you

you rely so much on this limited understanding

knowing it will never really understand

why is it I ask you

you believe this fool

who has lied to you so many time in the past

and will do again and again

laughing each time

mocking your whims and vulgar desires

as it serves each and every time

its masters will

sit with me a while and let me show you the futilities of your way

listen and watch with me as we see

how cruel and deceiving she really is

the one you trust so dearly

the one who tells you must have this

this will be the last object of your ultimate desire for happiness

until you open your eyes and look again

and then and then

watch as it unfolds

from one side to the next

each one as right as the last

each one as true as the next

until you see the million truths

each true to its own cause

each having its own just way

so which one will you chose know

now you know they are all right

and nothing ever was wrong

what now when you know

it never really mattered which one you chose

it mattered how felt your way through

did i ever stop to feel

always obsessed by the end being right

forgetting each stage and its beauties to be felt

I look at my chart with all the results so perfectly planned out

not remembering the people the places, the events

it was the right ending for sure

right for who though

if all the endings were right

Re: Slaves in a free world

It feels great to be alive

people like me now

I smile as I do up my Timberland boots,

I thought people would would like me for who I am

how wrong I was without my boots

nobody looked at me

nobody cared

they even used to laugh at me

for not having my boots

but now I am free

as free as a bird

flying through the sky in her Timberland boots.

I used to feel so cold

alone, unheard of, invisible almost

noone cared, noone asked, and noone wanted to listen

waiting for that moment for a look and a smile

when everyone was having fun

just a glimpse was what I pined

a glimpse of what could be

long empty nights

cold dark days

pretending something was of importance

knowing that I could vanish without a blink of an eye

noone would shed any tears

noone would tell my story

but now I have my boots!!

People care, listen, smile and even ask

my feelings are alive

as they race through people's minds

being approved my the social masteries

of the modern mind.

My friend once called me an introvert when she saw me talk on life

she then called me an extrovert when she saw me with friends

finally she settled for "introvert-extrovert" as it made sense

I was so happy to be defined by her wisdomery

Even though her words captured only the part of the moment

And my moments were never the same

For her I fitted the box,

without my bots she would never have looked

I dont care if nothing is real

I am alive in this world!! This world of words.

What then do we strive for?

A sense of what is real,

or a sense of recognition?

The real is a lonely place when I once lived, noone noticed,

noone wanted to accept, to see was a inconvenience>

My eyes may be glazed,

my mind fuzzy

bending with the moods of the fashioned minds

people laughed at my hat last year

but now it is cool, so I was early?

sometimes I still race

into the unknown mess

where words mean nothing

but incomplete noise.

A gentle swig of the Rum, some fake smells,

and a taste of oversensationed plastic

Always brings me back to the world happiness

the world where my boots tell the world I belong.

recognise lifestyle with a conscience

This is a cool article, good see important people finally using their status to promote a healthy future.

Re: One and on

the detail only divides

so let's look at the overall view

it smells so nice to feel the whole

instead of being in the hole

my mind struggles with this

it strives to define

searching for words

I beg it to leave me in peace

just longing to feel alive again

I almost forgot

what it felt like to be born

delighting in the realm of unknown

everything was so new

so alive and so promising

now my senses feel dull

not even the red wine works

swigging by the bottle

worked its majic

lost in the mess

everything is not important

I long for something I lost

no idea when

then I see her for a second

my heart delights again

but it only lasts a second

as my heart remembers

the pains of reality

when my fantasy clashes with the truth

she too is human

and I lesser and lesser

Re: Randomness

why is it then?

what is seen

can never be felt

can I taste your lust on my lips

when we embrace?

you look at someone

and only see the parts

of your desire

and so cleverly justify his flaws

for a while anyways

we both look in the same direction

but see such different things

our memories still clinging on by a thread

where does the randomness come from

I thought of my childhood bowl

from which I ate so long ago

how could he be so cruel and thoughtless

that fact I do it all the time irrelevant

who then is right?

and who is left?

I once was a child

but now all I have is memories

even they will soon fade

into the presence of tomorrow

Some people think

some let other think for them

some dare to dream

some happy to exist

Both are fine with me

all singing to their own tune

all balanced so beautifully

Can anything really be vulgar

or is it just me?

Puke it out, and lick it up.

Puking is a wonderful activity. It makes you feel so good and light and healthy. But people don't realize that all they have is a 6x6x4 inch space called their head where they have to live for the rest of their lives.

After a while the puke smells. And it doesn't let you sleep.

You hate your friend, You don't like your wife, You have a problem with your son.
You keep it in.. keep it in... keep it in... keep it in... you're getting full now... keeping it in... keeping it in.... one punch....
and PUKE!

"You're this and that .. and my shit smells better than your breath after brushing".
Wow... amazing

You wanted to say thing for SOO FUCKING LONG.

You feel so good. So nice.

Till the smell hits you.

Oh man... fuck.

Who's gonna clean this up?

Not me!

Na-ah!

Who else?

There's no one.

Time... ahh my favorite sweeper.

Come come you lazy son of a bitch. Come take your years.

I'll live with the smell.

I've puked before and I'm used to the smell.

Oh time... You reliable lazy piece of shit.

Hurry it up please.

And then you look around and see the puke stains. and the smell which never left.

That your bed is actually the 27 years of puke stains.

That time can do only so much, with it's dry broom.

If only there was water.

Stand up. Get down. And lick your puke up.

Re: God Said to the World

Don't try to comprehend

what is incomprehensible

by a limited finite mind

Don't call me names

that limit

what is limitless

Feel what it is

your heart pines to share with you

if you stop pounding it with your useless desires

Stop and listen

breathe and feel

everything a little at a time

You will see the glimpses

of what is..