The Lonely Extrovert

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...information when I know I don’t have all the parts. There is more to acquire. Even if further reasoning on the same information is the only thing that can be done from my place and time, I’m okay with exploring that, but I’m alone in this.

Comprehension of different minds I fully understand. We don’t all think the same, but in the middle of conversation it escapes me as I’m enjoying myself. As a result, it always feels to me like I’m being abandoned in the middle of a discussion. Because I see more places it can go, but this doesn’t mean they do or if they do that they even want to go there. Reasoning is abstract and that isn’t the most appealing to most. I’d rather just be told they don’t want to be in the conversation...

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Questioning Art

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...is it nonsense or is it art since we made it?
What if I make it faded?
Is it intentional or subconscious?
Does it go back to being nonsense?
Does it need to be created?
Or is nature enough to name it?
If a paint can materializes midair over a white page spills and paints it all red, yet across the earth I decide to paint only red on the empty page.
Are they both art?
Are they both the same?
The difference can’t be seen.
And I only took part in the one in front of me.
Must it be beautiful for it to be considered art?
Is art incapable of being ugly and dark?
Is there no objectivity to what it is?
Is it subjectively bound to what the individual decides of it?
Can it be wrong if it’s someone independent view of the world regardless of how cruel it comes out?
Can art be...

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A Writer's Distant Support

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The people closest to you will support you the least. It’s worse if you’re a writer because chances are you are one of the only people you know that enjoys reading. At best, those around you will purchase your writing just to say they did, but don’t press them on how far they’ve gotten because “haven’t had a chance to start” is quite possibly the answer. Their lack of interest is the reality.

It’s most frustrating part is that writers puts themselves into their work which results in the work being the best way to understand the writer. The best way to understand how you think and what you find interesting.

No one cares as much as you do, because you’re the only that cares.

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The Traitor: I

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...possibility that once they’re inside they’ll never come back out and freeze up at the cave entrance. They listen to the rumble inhale and exhale. Transistor and apostle, each with a gun in their hand, transmutations on Isaiah’s and scripture on Finn’s.

“So…” Finn begins. “Yeah, looks pretty bad,” he says.

“Pitch black, you mean!” Isaiah says.

“Yeah, that too,” Finn responds. “In?”

“I guess?” Isaiah questions whether or not they should turn around. The longer they stand there, the better of an idea it seems to just run away. “Before we change our minds,” he says and they walk inside. Isaiah’s gun shines gold, Finn’s purple and then gold, just enough to...

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Before The End

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The rumble of the earth quaking viciously collapses entire mountains and erupts volcanos firing bright orange magma. The neutral sky rains blood as the clouds part blasting a black mist beam onto the ground below, ungodly rays.

The leafs and bark on all the trees go dark and fall leaving an ash graveyard.

Wings on the Adonis with a golden glow falling from the sky, staff in hand, slow the drop and halt him atop those watching below.

The clergy united side by side with the fight for power, the celestial cowards bent on resetting the mindset to maintain control. Mere hours before the kid shows.

The last stand. Allister watches from above, crown on his head fist of his left hand eager to overthrow the old way. He must rule over those lost and show them the cost if they disobey.

Allister preaches of the day they’ll wreck for reckoning. The troops ready for war.

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Wandering Mind

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The clock tocks twelve twice in the studio with my mind dead set on writing. The desire is to abandon responsibilities, but they must get completed before I proceed. The methods I use to work with the audio reflect how I long for writing. It’s an obsession I fulfill daily, yet always want more. The behavior of a junkie.

In my personal life this addiction presents itself as insomnia. My brain wanders off when it’s been given a break and begins to work on the stories. Character development, settings, even scenes develop throughout the course of my downtime, against my will. So I get up and write to calm the thoughts down. Repeat the next day.

If only I could distract myself from the write addiction of figuring out the right way. I’m plagued with the want for the learning experience writing is.

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And Then It Was Quiet

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And Then It Was Quiet

...tears in her eyes tells me it must be beautiful
She only cries when bad things happen to the good people
During romances and horrors
But of course during dramas
When face to face with great art
When a good song is on

Bright cloud yells bang
They won’t let us run
It’s no fun watching the sun be outshined
There is no one left inside
Empty houses
Yellow...

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Not Thinking

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... Solutions lie behind reason. Be less worried about someone understanding your point of view and attempt to understand theirs. Just listen and process. No commenting, no insulting. Don’t say anything. Listen to their explanation. When they’re done, ask a question without inserting new information. Just make it based on what they’ve said. That’s all the reason you need. If it makes sense take it and run, if it doesn’t and they don’t want to hear your reason, well at least you understand you don’t agree with theirs.

But if everyone is busy yelling at each other because emotions who is listening to who? Which side is getting smarter and more informed? Be the bigger person....

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Down the Middle

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...day and night
Blind, lost my sight
Apocalypse to my right
But my horse darts right by

No time to look down and see
My horse is too high
I’m not me
But I won’t cry

I’ll grab that bitch Will
Stab him in his cage
Torture him for days
‘Till he’s crazed
Throw him in the maze
Record his every gaze
When he moves
Rearrange the walls
As I choose
Leave him clues
Through deceiving puzzles
Meant to do nothing
But confuse
Lead him through...

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Impossible Dream

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Impossible Dream

What if I try, whether or not I believe I can accomplish it, whether or not it’s even possible? Assuming it is impossible, the attempt is still something which can be performed even if the desired result cannot be obtained… right? And is it possible I might learn from the attempt alone? Learn just enough to apply it in other areas of life? Is it possible that just the want, regardless of how unrealistic, is enough to push me forward in life?

Then let me not forget to have an impossible dream, for all the steps are still possible and chances are they’ll improve something else.

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Da Wae

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Seconds slug by
The loop comes back around
Standing before the window
Wonder whether it’s me
Or I’m watching
Both instances seem just as real
The beginning of existence
Is the end of the universe
Then there was nothing
Before you know it
Things are too bright
And life has no problems
Then the rollercoaster ride down
Reveals da wae brudda
Yu don kno da wae brudda
Yu don kno
Make the Queen happy
I will sho her da wae
Not da fake wae

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