baby right now poetry just wouldnt do me justice
all of the rhyming and forced syllables contain too many lines
not to cross--don't venture too far into truth in such a public space
they might start to know you
this is where bullshit comes in
bullshit

know me through words you say you think you do and i say fuck you
words don't do it you have to see me write them
you have to feel me know them
because i can word what i want but you can't see the flushed cheeks that reveal my bluff
which is the ease we feel
the absolute safety we find in pens and pencils
the beauty, we say, of the written word

but call that fucking bluff. tell them.
tell me.
to tell you in person what i said just moments ago on this white pixelated piece of shit
i'll tell you nothing
not the word, asshole,
i'll not say a word because tongues are held faster and stronger by fear that comes from the cloud surrounding our souls than it does through will

if only we had a physical means of whisping that cloud away
changing that weather
and being honest
for more than one defining shining moment.
we create ideas within us to justify what we are feeling
because we can not expose to others those true feelings
yeah. you're right. words do exist to describe anything. it's their lack of use where humanity fails the vice.

don't tell me differently. i know you know that we are thwarted by this teeth to tongue trick that we were taught- age three- when we wanted to speak out against our unjust mother. should me-as three-not correct her? after all, my lenz is so hideously different from hers. she doesn't see that my fuse is shortening, my innocence running, my trust in what i believe, my ability to communicate- is only crushed by her rules. and that fucking continues. by and by. until now. when we are free from others but so ruled by our own fear. so goddamn ruled.

maybe i want to say something. maybe i want to but don't for fear of ill response. or lack of agreement which makes me cry now- and would then, too. that idea is so frightful that it makes me cry now- what would my stomach feel should it be realized in the realm of what we deem real life? now that's how hearts race. feel it? i figured you wouldn't...or am i just pissing you off?

maybe you sense anger- wonderful. because i feel it. since 18 hours ago. that's a long time to hold a grudge that has no definition nor reason nor validity. time for correction.

i didn't want to listen to my music this morning

minus one day for the following

i wanted to hear your words bouncing around in my head
i think that each time on hit a boundary, i cringed a bit--
maybe minds aren't meant for collision after all. you had me thinking...

jolted awake last night with thoughts all to familiar, all too conceivable.
i sit today. less settled. sit today too far from my setting.
we have it all wrong, we self-rightous collective
we are finite for a reason.
we are given enough time to attain. to reach. to see. everything.
but we are underallowed the opportunity.
i envision a lake
and a simple cabin
maybe our science will marvel at a gas stove and a music player [for special occasions only as my music will have been created in my own mind in this space]
i envision wild literature for entertainment
and grounding memoirs of spirituality
pouring out onto the floor from the small wooden bookcase
i see trees
so many tress
and life
so much life
running and jumping and exchanging sharp glances as far as my eyes two can reach
i sit.
i close my eyes. i smell the pine. maybe maple syrup, too.
i begin to escape. my self leaves my seated being and i begin to wander and discover and see
my mind consumes all else but my fingertips, in which i feel small tingles to remind me of my hands, such powerful tools.
i'm not smiling just yet, because expressions seem warrantless when lost in thought.
and you are there.
and you sit next to me.
and i return. and smile. and smile. open my eyes to see yours. and i know. that you know. you've been where i recently explored. and i want to tell you what i saw this time. though i know it's unnecessary. i can't stop talking to you in this moment. i am still smiling. and we are more the powerful fabric connecting us two than each our own body in this moment.
and we have time. we have any time we care to create and manipulate and mold into our own.
and when we feel our mold can be broken, in our own way, when our clocks say it should be so,
we go out into this world.
we use our power.
we spread our energy.
we have bottled up everything we've devoted our sould to and we give it so freely. with so much conviction for giving, passersby may believe we are wealthy.
we force genuine smiles of those who had forgotten how to create expression upon their face.
we do not scoff at failure.
we do all that we can--
shining, radiating, glowing with everything that we have.
modulated. modulation.
and in this way
in our own time
we save lives.
we save souls.
we spark beauty that may never otherwise have been undressed
we show children. that laughter. is the purest beauty to be had.
and that love. and touch. and acceptance. are life.
and in this way, in our lives, we save the world.
and in this way, we have a purpose.
and in every way that we exist, every place that we travel, every moment that we are.
we have a purpose.
_______________________________________

i know what you are thinking.
that this is not the purpose you spoke of.
that the purpse afore described is simply a ploy to eliminate immediate suffering
so why the suffering
that the purpose afore described may save us all, but for what?
for whom?
if our whole lives must be each dedicated to erradicating evils that be...
why do we not end it all? would not the people of the world be happier, less tortured, if to not exist in the first place?
sure.
but not for us, now.
not for them, someday.
we are on a journey. though some that we may save will never know the journey of which they are nomads, we do.
i know. i know. we will see our destination. because i feel it. and i know. and right now the tears in my eyes which have nothing to do with sadness nor joy are telling me that i. am. not.
alone.
not alone.
in this.
why would i so be teased and tested so if not to one day use the strength gained? all experiences must be one day converted to applied knowledge. including this one. this life. this day.
to see that understanding is conceivable is enough for me to know that one day.
i will.
we will.
you feel it everyday.
i feel it everyday.
since day one. however qualitative the number one can exist is how it is meant in this statement.
i know that it is real. i know that we, collectively, have a purpose that so goes beyong this physical hell and realm of emperical descriptors that even space cannot fathom its form.
a light. a light does not shine if not to be seen. if not to guide. today i felt everyone that i passed by foot. i felt their sadness. i felt some indifference in their soul. in her soul. and yeah. it made me ask myself why, instead of feeding of of that and stopping to give to her some better day, why am i going to class to learn something of no use to me? well, for one, i wrote this, and maybe lack of stimulation was needed for me to have the opportunity to get some of these things on paper. but the day. the class. the everything. is necessary right now. i'll get where i am going, i know that, otherwise i would be going nowhere. a must precede b, and that is how i must justify.
_____________________
but goddammit. godfuckingdammit. i don't want to justify. i don't fucking want to go through the situational motions that will allow me to one day be how i am meant to be. right now. right now. i want to be with you. i want to touch forehead to forehead and exchange silently any piece of anger and frustration that we both have at this given moment until it is gone. so that all that is left for us is positive energy and beauty and without scheduling and appointments and their timeline we could exist in that way until we are ready to leave it. and that is when i see that cabin.
by the lake.
and life.
and this whole story seems to look up once again and i am beginning to accept it once again and i see why i am here right this moment and why here is a part of the grand journey to understanding.
but now.
now.
i remember
that i see that cabin and that lake and you next to me, readying our souls for the world to save, and i remember. i remember that it is an illusion. and i am not there but in this picture.
an illusion.
and i want it to be real.
and my temperature begins to rise again.
and my anger returns.
because i am afraid, as i have said in many words before.
that that illusion will never come into fruition.
because that illusion exists in tomorrow.
and i am afraid of tomorrow.
i am always afraid of tomorrow.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahh

can't function right now. maybe it's the absence of order, maybe it's the absence of pure chaos, and i've never been here before. where everything is in perfect rhyme and reason and falls so into place that i feel no pockets of air trying to fill the space between me and myself but can find absolutely no time to embrace it. that's a blatant, flagrant lie. i just can't find enough. i want more. i crave more. and i think this appatite is consuming me. it's not allowing me to do the everyday everything. the bullshit that we create to fill an empty life. create. fabricate. jesus christ we have it in us, already, people! we have to create nothing! we need to utilize that which was created for us, in us, that hungry ready and waiting life that many let die before allowing its birth. i want to find that island that isolated escape where wind whistles and sun dances and hers is the only voice that crowds my mind. that place where books are fun and games are dangerous and smiles are unafraid to show themselves when warranted. i want these doors to fly open and these walls to collapse collapse around me opening up my world for me. and every me who yearns to be free. i am set free. i have been set free. but feel, sitting here, in this tan/beige/colorless cubicle that these walls are surely not meant for inclement weather protection. but for confinement. for repression of imagination. so that when i leave, i go home, i get in the car, things start looking up.
i abhor the idea that we must create evil to see good. we must start below so that the rise is all the more majestic. everything can be majestic. each of us can live this way. with every moment catapulting us to a new realm of understanding of ourselves as one body and our lives as one story.
.........

i am afraid. this is what i am telling you. i am afraid that tomorrow will not come and i will have left too much unsaid too much underexamined too few brought above. and i should not fear for that is contrary to the idea of living now. but how do i live in each now if not in fear of the next now robbed? i struggle. i struggle with the idea of now. and that right now. right. now. i am speaking too much of now and tomorrow and what may have been yesterday and i am forgetting that now that just past and the now of this moment. i must be a better teacher to my mind. i must teach it to feel each given moment and gain. gain from each all that i can. so much is surrounding me right now. in this room. wherever i wander. and i fear that i neglect it. that goddamn third eye blind. i must open.
..........

on the topic of fear. it should not exist.
..........

but it does! why must we build castles couple with moats and white knights around our souls? why is it so foreign to let the only one who truly belongs inside, in? not foreign, for foreign implies misunderstanding, mistrust and unknowing, and surely this is furthest from any Truth. but for me. i did not forsee the princess feeling the pea so early in the night. so i slept. soundly. and now must awake! allow! accept! thank the keeper that no longer does my soul have to search. it can rest and thrive and be. just. be. i become bitter often that i have capabilities. that i am capable of being. because i can't. we are not allowed just yet. to be. you said it last night and i fully agreed but i argued the counter purposefully. i wonder if you know that. i feel honest. and that's new, too. i am perhaps afraid of that, as well. suddenly my clothes have been burned and my skeleton radiated and i cannot be who i have created for everybody else. perhaps i fear that. but i know. that it is the most positive fear that may exist. perhaps i will embrace it and i will allow it to spill out to others and i will, for once and for all, be. who i am to be. for humankind. perhaps you are my gateway not only unto myself but for the world. perhaps this fear is fleeting for the greatness that will come of this portal you have exposed for me will slingshot my dreams onto my doorstep. and for that i have too many words. for you i have too many words. and as per usual,
i will end here because from here
words are not essential
for understanding
anything further.