

A CollectionI am madness I am chaos I am that which has no plan My movements indescriminate My thought often erratic And you of all, Would do best to not be in my wayA Collection
Perched above its light Its order masked as chaos While we sleep this night With our dreams fit to betray us
No rest for the weary
I rise to stand aloft And I feel the chill night wind Harsh and cold, far from soft And with a heavy sigh, I do descend
Retribution, attrition, absolution
This world I fear has killed me I am a corpse upon its ground &nbs


MechanizedThis incessant beating in my chest Has made me weary of everything And I wish to seize the culprit muscle But I am as a dog pawing at a door it cannot open I wish to have this out of me What worth carries a heart in this world? Tear it out and all its frailties Broken Dreams, sad realities Replace emotion with unshakable logic Blood and bones with metal and wires I see no salvation So let me find my automation Build me into a machine So that I may no longer feel Cold and logical Detached and impartial Unmoved and unliving I see no salvation &Mechanized


Driftwood...This happens again To say I'm surprised Would be a lie Familiar turn of events That turns without me I am a bystander Amid a progression of lives I am an extra In a scene of growth and purpose In the Sea of humanity I am but driftwood How easily do the rest of you sleep at night? Sometimes I don't at all This yearning for more that will not be satedDriftwood...
Leaves me unfulfilled and emptier every day Still and stagnant water A blank face and empty lie A loss for words A solitude and disconnection Unplugged and unmoved Won't somethi


Lessons LearnedThese eyes don't see everything But they are surely not blind And they see enough to know That every event in life is a metaphor And in that way a lesson And what these eyes have learned Is not to love you No matter how much they want to They've learned not to be in love with youLessons Learned
This heart may not be healthy But its got a lot of love Not all of which is hidden Its a big target for Misfortunate circumstance And what its learned Is not to love you No matter how much it wants to Its learned not to be in love with you
These h
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Yeah I'm still around.. sometimes. I guess I'm now more needle lipped and winter eyed than I once was, and my fingers feel cold when I hold a pen.
This place.. has once given me something so beautiful that no words in any worlds could describe it, but despite mine, her.. our best effort that part of my life, which I now regard as best of it, wasnt static.. left somewhere. And when I sleep I see it's footprints. So yeah, Daria left. And every memory I have of this place somehow brings me back to her..
To quote someone I cant remember now "You'll never get your old self back... once you have loved like that"
It all feels like a card trick.
So I come back sometimes, read something once in a while but seldom talk..
The only place I really find peace these days is underwater, diving. Down where its very very black... inside wrecks or caves at night time somewhere around 45-50meters deep.. you have to use dual air tanks and an extra pony of 42% oxygen content nitrox for the decompression stop later to really understand it but there is a feeling there.. its as if you are touching death, it's soft, sweet and beatiful.. with whispers and dalliance.. and so like the touch of a lover it scares me, yet I always go back down whenever I can. And there are the flashlight fish that look like dancing stars all around you..
Hah.. but that could be just nitrogen narcosis.. I dont know.. maybe I've gone mad (confirm/advise?)
Right well.. to be honest yeah, Ive been away for a while.. needed to find something to do, to clear my head, to be somewhere far away from so many things that carried memories with it of how happy I once was. So I started diving, travelled around abit.. now that I come back this place feels alot more neutral now.. so maybe I'll come back here again.. maybe I'll write something .. we'll see
But yeah, its good to hear from you
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What do we owe the most to our dreams? Our hopes, or our dissapointments?
Strangest thing, man.
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What do we owe the most to our dreams? Our hopes, or our dissapointments?
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What do we owe the most to our dreams? Our hopes, or our dissapointments?
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Put a bullet in my head and an arrow in my heart.
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What do we owe the most to our dreams? Our hopes, or our dissapointments?
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