lonely roads i was never really one for alcohol, butthey say happiness is at the bottom of the bottle.well i'm there and i'm still miserable as everwhile i drown in thick fluids of wishful thinking.and for the first time, i realized something;how unhappy i have becomeand i'm still stuck here with nothingbut silent screams and empty pleas.xthis town is nothing but a mazeof lonely twisted roads that tauntunsuspected victims to lose themselves.the dim street lights and dead silenceaid them and submerge the vulnerable,numbing senses and tormenting the soul.this town takes no pity on the unfortunateand will trap anything and e
irony is you "it's ironic. how the water is so shitty, yet, it's so beautiful."i sit there, in the seat next to her. thinking about what i've become- what we've become.in regard to me, she's a master optimist... and me? i'm the petty pessimist.the Sun beams down on the jet-black car, in which we are enclosed, and everything else too. and as the chaos in my mind runs amuck, the voice, it gets angrier. it keeps telling me these things, these things i don't want to believe. as i untangle one knot within the chaotic network of encrypted thoughts, two more knots are created, and thus, a loop is created. a little hell, within my mind.the heat, it seems
perfection. : perception. "i don't feel like i'm perfect enough; i need to get to that point, somehow."i'm sorry to inform you, my dear, for your goal may not be reached.for you to meet such a stateis to conquer an impossible feat.for the imperfection lays butwithin the depths of your mind.for they are buried beneath yourwill to believe, believe that perfectionis not created, but for you to find.for you see, my dear, perfection is merely a perception. an illusion.perceived in infinite variations,often with many an obscure perspective. and so you see, my dear,while you persist you will find itleast effective, for you mustfind it within
bridge of sorrow there is said to be a bridge;a beautiful arched bridgesurrounded by an aura so darkthat anyone who would crosswould have their saddest thoughtssurface all at once.each step would stir them,each breath would feed them.at the end lay an archway;it was here that it was rumoredthat these thoughts are cleansed,and true happiness will be found.however, it is mostly unheard of;as most people are driven madand turn back too soon-while others would be broughtto jump from it's side. beneath is a rocky river;a river that holds the livesand sorrows of the weak.however, beyond the bridgelive the strong minded,wh
turbulence i remember, when i thoughti had a firm grasp on reality;nothing out of reach.when things made sense and the picture, crystal clearin my mind.then time dragged itself outand as it went by my perception distorted,it was as if it no longer existed.then it was easy to see,nobody, not even i, could find clarityin my mind.one thing clear, i became blind.a screen of confusiondimmed with darkness of guilt,surrounded by a thick fogof forgotten hopes.and everything was lost,in my mind.
breathe while you're alive please.(not again)...i'm losing my grip;it's so confusing whenyou're lost between paranoiaand anxiety, tossed intoa spiral of why, how and what'sas i trip and fall to the groundall i hear is the sound of her voice,and i fear she will be silencedby the thoughts that fill my head.i stand up- i slip, but sheextends her hand to me, soi reach back and as i grab holdi remember promises she told.(just know i'm listening,as i try to believe)i promise, today i'm not lying, just stay with me- don't let go.and i want you to know, i'm holdingon to everything. (that, is you)please, keep holding on
mistake i may be often mistaken for modest,but as much as i would like to think i'ma decent person; caring and somewhat-pristine,i find myself unaware of how i am perceived.how i am seen, how i am judged and what is believed.and thus, my mind stumbles upon itself,getting lost in my thoughts; a thick relentless fog.lead to think i am merely another face,forgotten but not unknown.confidence illudes me, haunting like a ghost.hopes of success and prosperity fade awayand i assure them it's not modesty,but an unfortunate display of honesty-when i tell them i am not as good;adequate, competent, sufficient,not as aesthetically p
we, the monsters it seems as though hostility overshadows hospitality and selfishness feasts on morality. it's shameful to say we are the intelligent species that, in our own warped perception, claim to be more sophisticated and deserving than other creatures that we often depend on to keep ourselves alive. but when it comes down to it, we are very much alike, in that we use our instincts to survive and will go out of our way to make sure we may do so. what we see as "tyrannous" is really best portrayed by our own actions.
cold whispers in our pasts and mistakes we confide,and while we linger we decidethe next regretful choice we shall make.
reality is a mystery it's the tendency to think that incompetencyhas enveloped me entirely.and that while constantly i try to seethat there is something blinding me,from the beauty that subsides to be,i am haunted by thoughts of inferiority.i worry that this curse is indefinitelyembedded inside for eternity,infinitely feeding me insanity.
relinquishing darkness been living in the dark,like living in a closet.your own little world,don't know where you areor where you want to be.been living in the shadows;you blend in with the blank walls in narrow cluttered halls.in an empty room,your head filled withorganized chaos;a symphony of off-tune notescaused by worn stringsof endless thoughts.a riot of dancing colorinfiltrates the grayscalewithin your close-mindedness,and, in their apparent contrastgrays seem to transform toblues, reds and even yellows.you peer out the window,water droplets evaporatefrom it's surface- and for once,you see the opportunityto gr
they'll leave him they'll leave him,oh, they'll leave him.as temperatures dropand the air grows thinnorthern currents come flowing in.they loosen their grips,and their colors turn.on an evening so quaintthe sun just above the horizon lineseeming to stretch across the sky,they say their goodbyesas they leave.they lose their gripand their colors burn-gracefully they dance in a free-fall; twisting and turning,swooping and swayinguntil they land in the distanceand waltz away.
the crash of waves we fight each other-even the ones we love.greed; power, money, reputation.like a never-ending clash,to the very depths ofabomination like spiteful fiends we findnothing in salvation of what is right or good-no we let it sink,into a hatred filled abyss.we dispute our problemsand pretend they've disappeared.shift blame and take fame.like hundreds of crashing waves,the dam is bound to fall,and our pasts will come backto haunt us all, along withthe undeserving generations to come.then the sound of crashing waveswill be heard loud and strong.
bitter sweet your touch; a sweet addiction.your absence; a bitter pain infliction.
parasite your roots are burieddeep within my skin.tangled and twistedupon my veins.you refuse to leave;an appendage ofutmost dependency.
you were you were the air around me,my moon and my sun-i had nowhere to run.you were the will to my way,the reason for me to stay strong and keep my chin up high.you were the hopes i never had,the dreams that wouldn't fadeand every wish that i made.you were everything and nothing-and all the things in-between.
broken promises i just wanted to be all you needed.i wanted to be the one you could depend on.i wanted to shower you with raindrops filled with kisses, and dry you off with whispers like hugs.xyou said i didn't have to worry,and you raised my hopes up to the skywith the words (lies) and empty promises.you raised them to the fucking sky, to burn in the sun.xyou said everything will be perfect,just give it some time- and that distancecould never take you away.you said you'd always be around for me and where are you now?just so you know; my heart is bigger than me, now.it's just in pieces, until i put them back to
s i c k , t i r e d i'm sick of being aloneand peering out my bedroom windowat skies so gray. it doesn't even botherme that they are gray, they're just aslonely to me no matter how blue they are.yet, i still stare with some hope thatout there somewhere i will find myself- the wind swept me up long ago and never bothered to return.i'm tired of being drownedin thick lies and broken minds,that surround me, and i find myselfunable to swim- or even hold my breathfor that matter. and it's as though i'mweighted by empty thoughts thatlost their meaning a long time ago. i am s i
Sta.sh
