June 5, 2009

Time and time again i reach stages where words will simply not come out. Words are not enough anymore, the choices being too numerous and not quite as momentous as i would like; descriptions not as vivid as i perceive. Nevertheless, retribution and balance will be as the sky, always looming above and often taken for granted. Taken for granted by what we give and take, remember and forget, find and lose, and love as we hate. The good, comforting, bad, and terrifying are the beauty of remorse and the vanity of regret.

“Continue on”

Now i shall drink my circulation away with no regard for the lost rest.


My mind yearns for something i cannot quite find. Boredom prevails where mental stimulation lacks, and it is a serious issue when i feel like trudging through every single fucking day.

Arriving in the realm of the living with each day is like bailing out a stolen lifeboat. Although striving for the horizon, i feel stranded far too close to the sinking ship. Perhaps, as my hopes are usually up, there is a small island close by that i may reside upon–But until then, this vessel needs a few holes worked out.


I remember when the doves used to wake me at each dawn with their whoos, crows, and woes. Imitating their call, i would prolong my rise to full sun. My exceptions were mornings when the floor was padded for the descent of my brother. Slowly, i would bring his heart to the floor so he could crawl to life’s details.

This is the first lesson.


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