A Calloused Compilation
By James Christianson
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2011 by James Christianson
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Table of Contents
If I Lift My Head, My Neck Will Break
Intensity in The Mind Of A Madman
…Begging for life and kicking for answers
Struggling for order in a life of disaster
Killing myself for hope of things getting better
But nothing is comforting when nothing matters
Black, as darkness envelopes this room
Where once there was truth are feelings aloof
And if I could think, I could will myself to move
But nothing is comforting when nightmares bring proof
Indifferent towards suffering or welcoming rather
What is a heart but stained glass well shattered
Or a section of a meal, presented upon this platter
A skeptic towards life in the life of a doubter
Hold me in death as I offer myself
Cry with me as I now drain myself
A liar to all, all who defiled my self
A liar to no one, no one but myself
Touch me and know what’s hidden inside
Stains on your clothes where honesty resides
Shaking and cold, your presence so unkind
Cradling a corpse, your attempts now denied
How is this reality when this reality is fading
Destroying figments of a life quickly decaying
Stability on a thread continually fraying
Emotional distress and sicknesses invading
I could have said sorry, but you already knew
Every word I spoke was spoken for you
Every drop bled amongst flesh sheared through
Every qualm I’ve met has an attraction so new
I wish for a change, a change you’ve seen me create
If only your conscience could ever relate
Pleasure my agony with pain meant to sedate
You wanted to love me, but your determination’s too late…
I wear these scars upon my face
Eyes stare in a distant state
No one I know
Has been so cold
Blinded by briberies, I never believed what was told
This chain of evil never strayed from wrongs
Every word you spoke always stung
Someone pull me out
Too weak to stand stout
I’m so pathetic now I accepted all that brought me down
Pop this fucking cell
Let me out
Too depressed to look around
What got me here
Where am I now
Tear these goddamn walls out; you’ll never hold me down
So, read these scars on my face
Follow the events building such haste
The past, altered past
And destroyed so fast
I’ve rebuilt it all, too powerful to trap
With nothing but time my mind’s running cold
A half smile on a torn face, souls of red and gold
You were sent to the enemy
I understand your joke
You don’t choose your path; your life’s already been sold
Angel wings and pentacles
A sadistic embrace of tentacles
An ideology of perfection
Left in cinders of retrospection
A headache unlike before
A Heartache eager to gorge
This prediction leaves no surprise
That dreams are wishes of demise
With promises so eagerly sent
A physical lacking now proves discordant
Questions are never returned
But love is constantly assured
Struggling through gestured topics
Inane avoidance of the misanthropic
A philter upon a sacred hand
Claiming your chosen one still stands
Fighting suppression to let it be known
The planted seed of love has been sewn
Though diverted eyes prove relationships mangled
I refuse to believe I’m just your fallen angel
Manipulate to dissipate, reprogramming to recreate…Perfection
By my own divine design
Even in these unwelcome times
I’m thankful for the pain life has shown
Through the dark and disfigured shadows
Your celestial smile has shone
Attracted by azure eyes
But I remain for your warm heart
And every day, I’ll attempt to convey
Exactly what these feelings are
You called me an angel once
But I doubt you understood everything
I was nothing until I found you
Before you granted me my wings
You’ve dropped me to my knees in tears
Shouting the perfection in you
I wish the world could witness the miracles
In the superior things you do
Anxiety steams within my lungs
As I hold my breath to reveal
Everything I see in you is true
But I fear I don’t deserve what I feel
To be by your side for eternity
Will make me appear worthy too
At risk of displaying such obsession
Life is death without you.
Who am I allowed to be
Only that which you will let me
Disfigured skin cloaking burnt flesh
Destroying what’s beneath my chest
I told you once I cared more than life itself
You told me you would always believe
If you know I care more than myself
Why do I let you do this to me
I can’t change into what I don’t believe in
Misunderstanding all I believe in
I am all you should believe in
Why can’t I trust you with my life
Believe me now
Visions of perfections
Fully trust in my intentions
Dreams increased my expectations
Everyday seemed like a failure
This is not what I imagined
All I have to show is shit
All attempts I made went nowhere
I am nothing, I am now here
Before I went, I wrapped a towel around myself. I didn’t want them to see my dead body naked. Ridiculous, I know. Even in death I’m afraid of embarrassment. This is when I became aware of how deep my insecurities dug into my skin. I can’t help but wonder how others see me; if the guys are jealous, if the girls are weak with lust. And when they are not, I know I am doing something wrong. Which part do you want me to play? “I’m impervious to your severe ridicule.” or the “disturbed outcast, anti-social and reserved for no one understands me because they have not experienced pain of this magnitude?”
It was never this way. Not before the sun was conquered by the unexpected storm; the smell of rain through the bars, ending the long endured drought. The traffic speeding by my window, smearing in my face that everyone goes about life without a thought of me.
Even you.
Out of sight, out of mind, and you create your own prison of idiocy and your own disgust for yourself. This towel should be draped around you. But what would that prove? There are no lessons here to be learned, they are all imposed. I’ve gathered truth, I’ve spotted ambition, honesty, devotion and loyalty, sincerity, dedication; but I’ve also questioned these monsters and found they were enforced by nothing. These travesties deviate from those who look upon them by deceiving accepting eyes. They float on the surface like signs enticing a nymphomaniac to a whorehouse but once inside, disappointment steps out to reveal something so dead, yet there’s not an ounce of neccro within you. Change your face with the morals you invented, disassociate yourself from what you feel, wake up to a nightmare resting on my pillow. But don’t ever tell me to stop making you feel guilty, God dammit, you should be dwelling on your betrayal, that is, if you were to have a conscience at all. If human decency weren’t so commonly confused with indecent humans, you would reveal in all actuality, yourself. A void; what it is to be authentic.
I see an inanimate disposition in you, when you stand over my feet. You are able to identify the body, but how credible is a ghost. You died in that storm outside the glass and fell into the haunting of the traffics apathetic pursuance of absolute ignorance. There are no excuses for making such a mess of a beautiful death. Let me go and I’ll fly away. I won’t even pause in flight to ponder saving a drowning fool. There are no excuses for suicidal insecurities. You’ve simply ruined everything I have ever known.
I’ve said so many things that may be used against me. I’ve forfeited all strengths and let you sort them out. I’ve fallen from equanimity to a state of extreme psychosis that breeds distinct feelings of malignancy crushing a capable mind. I hope you always remember the smell of burning flesh. These purgatorial days cite forgotten validity. Broken claws and frozen death, you’ve damned me eternally beneath whispered breath. One-four-three or so you say but with schismatic tendencies there is no faith to pull me through but by pure belief in you. Another scene, a distanced face; was a desired dream gone to waste? Benighted as you once were, yet in a glorious white comparable to perdition conquering such a feeble empyrean. A sense of catastrophe enveloping blistered mania. It’s a welcomed action. Though it may be feigned, enjoy a temporary blessedness while it lingers long enough to bandage bleeding ruin.
You crave ensuring promises, I know. I will be by your side as long as you’ll have me. Generations away from antithesis but I do not understand you. I want to know your secrets, to bond myself to you. It’s no coincidence that our lives have synchronized so melodically. There’s a reason we are here. I found the cause; do you have an answer? Would life be as chaotic without environmental boredom?
I have but one simple fantasy composed of complex specifics. A single companion carefully cherished through corruption, destruction, and annihilatory assumption, but always I’ll be there. Stare at me with collusive eyes and allow your walls of hidden virtues to disintegrate. Hold love on your tongue so the world will know each time you speak. Withdrawal displays shame, that shame causes dispirit nature, whose nature is shown to be unfavorable and thereby degrades an otherwise honorable repute. Scream my name, do not hold back. There is a fine line between romance and a stifling stalk. It’s a tightrope I’m struggling to cross, I beg of you, don’t alter my balance. Help me concentrate on your dreams and with me are borne such guarantees. Soaked with affection, drenched in affliction, marinating in the epitome of addiction. Belittle me if there’s such a need, although I ask otherwise, I’ll understand if still you must. I’m not the concern; it’s you that’s at stake. Progressive pride I’m pleased to pontificate. Tomorrow is a day that will always hold untainted hope.
And in oppressing times, tomorrow may repair everything. Till then I’ll remain by your side, for as long as you’ll have me.
This is perfect?
What world’s a world without worldly purposes?
Scarring surfaced
All the pain you threw comes back to haunt you
I’ll never live this down
You will explain to all just what I’ve found
Your trial is set
In blinding sweat
Did you think there’d come a day
when I’d forget
I told you nightmares interrupt your dreams
but they really begin to play at the start of your awakening
In the back of your head
You’ve felt them there before
That was me, laying schemes
that dropped you to the floor
So count your blessings start your prayers
cause they’ll never equal up to fears
You will forget you know you will
but even when I’m king I’ll remember you still
And the golden book of your story
I will always hold
cause perfect plots come from years down the road
So 4/20 fell on a Friday and most everyone is buying their own stash to burn through tonight; or already stocked up. Me? I’m home on MySpace, not because I don’t have a life, my lack of life has little to do with it. It’s because of the ill-desire to fall. I refuse to tangle with the horrors of individuals lacking self control. The ones that would rather let go of everything that allows you to function, to tear apart motor skills in hopes that someone else will steer this ride. I don’t leave fate in the hands of others. I designed this path before I had ever laid myself in the womb; when I spoke to a god and co-conspired my life and of the pleasures I had wished upon, and the punishments I chose to receive. This was agreed, the contract is life, adhered to willfully or not. Every thought was already signed, initials at the beginning and end of each statement and signed again. Don’t hate your life, you created it, you control it. What is your deepest desire? I don’t care about specifics, your desires are what you must accomplish before you die and the contract expires, minus the warranty; long since passed when you leapt from behind safe walls and spoke of avenging this world. Past the point of no return, you may give up, make decisions to rebel your own contract, throw it away, live your life just to get by and never become anything. Tonight people choose to obey, and others say fuck it all. Me? I’m home on MySpace. Pathetic? Maybe. How is that hangover doing? Do you remember last night? Is that really what you want? To forget your life and have no explanation for it when you die because it was all just a blur. Cool. That’s you, reliant on everyone but yourself; the follower. Where your peers make you and you don’t even know who they are. Take a look around, would you be proud enough to write an autobiography, would anyone want to read it? Every day I take a step closer to where I want to be when I die, every day I must progress without the choice of giving up, that’s not an option. Coherent to the situation and aware of conscience, I awake tomorrow as just another day but no worse than the day before. I refuse to allow myself to regress. How? My children. I look at myself through their eyes to find out if I’m doing the right thing, if my actions are those that would make my daughters proud. Guidance through these distractions. I’m proud because they show me that I should be, and it is returned. An interdependence to keep our aim in line.
A random ramble caused by lack of sleep and an over-indulgence of MySpace reaching for something to say. After all, this is a place to talk, so talk!
Goodnight to everyone and enjoy the weekend. As long as you are happy then nothing has been wasted. Except maybe you.
I got the candles lit and soft music playin’
I’m lying on the floor staring at the ceiling
Waiting for comatose to impale these feelings
Disguised in disgust and reaching for reasons
I can hold onto love and allow it to choke me
Or leave it alone and dance with the living
I fought that battle and it left me bleeding
Soaking the floor I’m no longer dreaming
Wherever she is I need her soon
Whatever she did is forgiven clear through
She is the feeling I wish I knew
Imagining that she could truly be true
Alone again in flames on the ground
A sickening pang an ear piercing sound
A troubled mind with a solution found
Alone, again, in love as I drown….
In this poem there’s something I have to say
That beyond love, understanding must stay
I know you tried hard to know
There’s more inside I’ve never shown
In each kiss received was our first day it seemed
A day that I’m the star of my dream
Away my heart always soared
So I’m writing what I’ve said before
Sorry love, I’m not what life’s for
There’s more past this asshole; all I was
I’m telling you I’ve changed because
Every day I had selfishly upset you
Now feeling so destroyed I apologize to you
So I’m writing you more than what’s coming out
Every 6th has a home just write them down
For I’ve hidden words beneath my promise
Encrypted within this letter you’ll soon receive
Lastly; I miss you baby!
I’m in her dreams
No matter what demons she places against me
She knows, I would do anything
Drowning in a warm darkened sea
She waves her arms sporadically
Relax, drift into your sunken doubt
I’ll always be there to pull you back out
She admires me in all my chivalry
With but a smile she’ll know what I mean
Through countless exhibitions I’ll prove she is safe
And there are no worries of perfidy when I’m never away
Brutalized by perfect eyes she’s impaired my ability to speak
I’ve faltered if she questions that she is all I could ever need
From cornered sight a demurely glance dignifies digression
Which holds me in her vacancy of a hearts new denizen
I will make you every promise that you wish to see true
I can guarantee that the world’s imps will fear bringing harm to you
There are no words to illustrate how much you mean to me
Everything you make me feel, vanquishes the pain that comes with living
And everything I long to say is accompanied by unspoken word
Only then will you fully comprehend when witnessing true love emerge
But everyday drives me insane for you are all I really need
Though I may only exist in fantasy, you’ve always lingered in my dreams.
I could welcome your hooks to pull me down
Could you expect any less?
I’ve lain at your feet for too long
I’ve absorbed your faults
To put your heart at ease
I’ve infected myself with your disease
Restless nights leading to days of fast
Grasping onto a love that won’t last
Wishful Thinking and Head Held High
Were painful lies of false pride
Loss of control and emotions let go
I’ve bottled it in to disguise what I know
I’ve lost everything that made this a life
But continued to trust in such beautiful lies
If I could return to the past
I would have remained ignorant to what was seen
Everything you told me once
Would be everything I would ever need
If I had noticed heartless deceit
Hidden within the tears she’d cried
I’d have discovered her murderous depths
Behind darkened shadows, submerged deep inside
There are words I’ve wanted to say for so long
Words I might have said but they came out wrong
Words to hold you in a comforting love
But for your safety I’ll now keep them to myself
There are such violent scenes meant for no one
Certain clips of love intended for everyone
Nothing but true lust for some of them
But for your safety I’ll now keep truth far away from you
So now
You’re suffering now
I hear you crying, but what do you expect me to do
So loud
I hear you now
Slowly dying, for your safety I’ll now back down
I have always needed more than spoken love
Always desired something more than a cheap fuck
Always given you such a deep touch
But for your safety I’ll now keep these as memories
Hold me,
This gentle feeling has got me so weak
Hold me,
Everything is moving so slowly
And I’ll scream if you vanish as before
And I don’t have the time to let you go
It feels like
A still life
Something in this portrait makes it all okay
I never wanted these colors to fade
I know it’s over for me
So I’ll just capture this pain
So hold me
It feels like
The first time
Something in this portrait makes it all okay
I never wanted these colors to fade
I know it’s over for me
So I’ll just capture this pain
While you, hold me
Hold me,
These moments never seem to last
Forever can be real if we refuse
To let it pass
Know me,
And don’t leave me out when you finally do
Show me,
You think of me as I do you
When this is through and all you wish
Is to be, holding me
The wounds once buried
Six feet beneath my soul
Breathing life into my lungs
To hear me sing once more
Whatever you are that bolts me to society
You keep the warm to the cold inside of me
The pain spreads past my lips
Left behind to shelter demonic thoughts
The wire shreds through my fingertips
Actions of false detachments
Envelope true distraught
Bright
As midnight is
Fight
For hope like this
Sane
If it can bring
Hope
If it can be
Lay down to the heart brought forth
Forget who I am just this once
Listen to the screams that once held hurt
Play with the dead walking amongst all songs
Feel
What’s beneath it
Years
Of youth mistreated
Find
The messages that prey
Hope
That everything’s okay
In_misunderstanding these emotions, I cannot seem to verbalize_what I need you to hear. Despite countless_days of practice, my vocals collapse into a dumbfounded smile at the sight of someone just out of reach. Confessions condemned_when this beauty silences me.
These words seem_to encircle_me when you become my motif. This happened so quickly that I missed the turning_point of a strong, stable figure reduced to a_motionless droid on standby. I_have no other explanation for this warmth than it must be radiating off of you. This pressure builds when_you continue to stare intently as if weighing out the good and evil. I do not_know what’s on your mind which frightens me that much more. Shall I extend my hand_for you to receive or wait for a blatant invitation? How would you react if I wrapped my arms around you? And_if you told me to stop, I’m worried that I’ll never be able to let go.
What happens next is but a dream, a dream that makes_it worth the sleep. Without it, I_see no point in laying down alone. I would see_myself, motile I know, but you are there as well, always you_are there. There is no need to tell you anything, it’s all broadcasting from my eyes like orgasmic telepathy. A small veering gesture,_hand to your cheek, and yet again_my gaze is locked. Although this act comes time and time again, I do not mind it’s repetition but rather welcome such a feeling of weakness. Short breath, sweaty_palms, a thousand miles of pulses firing in a condensed fragile skull. What’s happening is unreal, but I feel it_as though it were true.
Stricken heart syndrome? I don’t know what to call it, a disease, a psychological malfunction? Love? Whatever’s said it is certainly a disorder_of abnormal conditions. Days seem so long without you, but_are quick to let you go. So please, before this time is robbed, answer dearly with_fierce honesty and cold truths, no matter if so harsh a word swept beyond your lips. Just to know, I want to know. Do_you think of me? When? When I’m not around. Do you wish I were?_ Do you lie in bed at night_and say, I’ll tell you exactly who you are to me tomorrow? Only then to find again, the cycle takes effect.
Smoothly forgetting such beautiful times, though seemingly trivial they mean so much to me now. The cries of a child in her rebellion, pushing her parents’ generosity, but the smile that blinds tearful sight when “demonic” moments fade and once again, life is perfect.
I looked in your eyes last week. I can’t seem to give you as much as a glance any more than that. Visions of a past, real or fabricated, I don’t know, but these visions tangled emotions of horrific actions and heavenly embraces, these mixed blurs bred unstable mentalities. Was it good? Was life the way I describe it to the strangers that portray desire in understanding the cause? What cause? The cause of extreme solitude? The cause of resentment? The lack of resentment maybe? The cause of my ambition to change? Yes. That must be it. The cause they show interest in is change. There are no answers to such change. Survival? I guess it was just time. But is it my time? I’m not me. Well, not the me I was when we were who I believed we should be; for you. I’m societies definition of who a role model should be in order to create enthusiasm within youth in hopes that they can do something better with this pit than what we always failed at.
We’ve sat on our porches living the “American Dream.” A beer, maybe two, maybe more. Friends of the same color, fireworks, flags, relaxation only after obtaining spiritual obligation once a week. And money, oh the money. Barely working for a check that would make a God moderately suicidal. Ah yes, America. Murder, slaughter, greed, power and other attributes abused by whomever can deceive the people best. We trust in your tactics to ensure that we control the Murder, Slaughter, Greed and Power where we Murder and Slaughter when others show Greed and Power. An inability for acceptance of success in good sportsmanship. Ah, America, a poor sport, a sore loser. I’m not America. I like to think I am better than that. Four barricades argue with me, leading to new directions in future steps. Societies steps. I’ve been manipulated into forfeiting free will because of a lack of conformity and that “trust in whoever deceives the people best.” Who am I now? Not happy, but an economical asset. So what, who needs that. We do, America does. A level of depression is required for functionality. It keeps the ego in check.
Sometimes, when the blood drips down the wall from swelled knuckles beaten with an absence of sanity; when my back is split with the sting of self-flagellation; the most valuable section of a five cent ball point pen, twisting into the weakened wrists; only then can I almost see my face. This is me. Insanity? Maybe but who are you to decide with your credentials loitering on the wall of an office no bigger than my cell?
They display the countless hours you wasted attempting to please your definition of society. A visible reference for all to believe that you went through hell to achieve a greater understanding. These scars are my credentials; this blood exposed is my credentials. I’ve attained a greater understanding since enduring my hell. I now sit in my office, my eight by twelve office, filled with everything I need to last a month.
You want to know how I do it. How I got to be where I am? How I live daily with the Mephistophelian thoughts that haunt me of a past ill-deserved and a future corrupted by the dreams of a lesser? You can read it on the wall, before my credentials drip to the cold neglected floor. Harder than the institutions, but soft enough for this decayed body to find comfort in its grasp.
And though I continue to rot, I can almost see my face; with yours in such beautiful times. Though seemingly trivial, they mean so much to me now.
If I Lift My Head, My Neck Will Break
If I lift my head my neck will break
I’ll just look at my feet forever
Is this depression at its best
Everything earned has been stripped away
I gave all I could to ensure happiness
But in the end evil ensured its own happiness
Who has their hand in my life
Toying with our choices or lack thereof
Checkmate, we’re fucking cornered
Albeit, they won long before I gave up
I can’t believe such heartless exist
Even more, such heartless prevail
Has the world been such shit
For how long have I been away
A job, not honorable, but a job would be more than many
Riches; who cares, when those impressed are strung out
Their wealth lies in drugs.
They’ve been wowed with perversions out lain
Money holds no true value nor weight
Show them the forbidden pleasures for compliments
Search for hope in hopeless environments
We’ve fucking lost. The world. As one.
Our ignorance displays no bliss
No peace, no more love. No distinction between sex and death
The stairway’s left in shambles
She walked it so many times
It’s nothing new to her so why take pride
Find a new monument to reside
Let it burn when eyes wander past
Attract their minds, eyes, cameras and desire.
Desire for destruction of beauty within such homeliness
How can we care for anything but this
You gave us so much to remember
We gave you a perfect score
You played your hand with extra cards in your sleeves
I played along and never cried out in disgust
Yet the real offense came from your carelessness
Now such solitude, I sit and stare at you
Protect the Omega from dangerous calamities
Did I lose, did we fail?
Hell no. This world fucked itself on its way down
I followed after you hit the ground
You took it all away
But I remember
I’ll always fucking remember!
“Said I love you so much, but do me a favor, baby, don’t reply. ‘Cause I can dish it out, but I can’t take it.” -Jesse Lacey from the song Limousine.
Pure genius. I have one specific and newly adopted rule; don’t ever say that you love me. Those three words hold so much more than just a feeling of adoration. They hold a tremendous amount of responsibility. For me at least; maybe because I have never actually been IN love. I love everyone so much unless I am given a reason not to and even then there are a select few that still somehow manage to maliciously squeeze some love from my heart. What comes from the word love is supposed to be unconditional meant only to convey that someone is much more important than the chick at Starbucks **roar** But what comes through is far more evil than that. All of a sudden there are expectations of loyalty and devotion, a chain forms around your neck bonding you to this individual. Yet if you don’t return the phrase, somehow you just became an asshole. So now you are obligated to say the L-word. Now you are a liar and once the truth comes out, you are deceitful and manipulative, you fucking asshole. When in all reality, you just didn’t want to hurt the other’s feelings by telling them that they care for you much more than you care for them.
Lame.
I’m not one for failing. I don’t take it too well when I fail at something, to include relationships. There is no such thing as an easy let down; when they end for me they end horribly; mainly because when I enter a relationship, I put my all into it. That means that when they leave, they take it with them, and it hurts. Even if I make the decision to leave, I know that they had counted on me to always be there, and I’m sure somewhere along the way I promised them I would be. Whether I intended to be or I just wanted to take a break from solo-sex for one night, I probably said it. So with promises made, when reality strikes, I have just let someone down, I have crushed this person immensely because I wasn’t able to make up my mind as to what I actually wanted in life. My own confusion or my desire for variety has caused this girls world to drop all around her.
I don’t want to hurt people and for that reason I have sworn off relationships in whole. But to ensure the tranquility of solemnity, I ask that you never toy with my mind and instill morbid thoughts of monogamy and servitude by saying the dreaded L-word with strings attached. If you feel you love me, please keep it to yourself. If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all, but the L-word is a curse that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
But if you must know, there is one that I do in fact love more than anything in the world, I don’t talk to her, and I won’t talk to her. I accept the fact that I love her and that’s it. It doesn’t matter anymore, but I never stopped loving her and it never lessened. Who cares who she is? She is nothing to me and everything all at the same time. She is the happiness in my memories and the emptiness in my heart. The hatred I hold is for myself. I should never have allowed my weaknesses to surface and announce that I had loved. I fucked it up. But I accept my failure and because of that it cannot be considered regret.
In conclusion, I may just be rearranging my priorities and having to sympathize with another’s own dramatic bullshit is not in my selfish agenda at the moment. Maybe I’m just not ready for a commitment, I’ve lost so much of myself in them that I’m too cautious with what’s left of me. I can’t offer what is demanded. The point of this all….
Well it’s all part of a greater picture that can’t be understood yet. A design for all mentality and spirituality…but that’s for another blog.
They stood by and laughed when they told me you were dead
Tossed in the flames and I’d never see you again
Would you recognize me through the mess I’ve become
Your ashes burned into this mental disruption
This will not be a tragedy for I refuse to believe
Somewhere out there you’re still calling to me
Although rumor states that they all saw you go
In my blood I feel you, In my blood I know
Why follow others when they’ve proved themselves wrong
Tell me yourself when I ask if you’re gone
If no answer is received I’ll hold onto hope
Only in love is insanity condoned
What monster could inflict such evil demise
Of a voice that carries like a thousand angels’ cries
Boiling inside I will avenge what I feel
In my blood I hold you; in my blood you are real
In armor and shield and wielding a blade
I’ve slain thirty villages that spoke of your name
Each one confirmed that what they heard was true
But nothing will save them when I’m set on saving you
Throughout these decades I’ve known no defeat
Now old and decrepit, so slow and so weak
I’ve challenged too many but I’m less than a fool
This last one conquered me as I was hoping he’d do
And as my vision was about to fade
I noticed the mess he never hesitated to make
It was then I knew while I struggled for life
In my blood you were here; in my blood you’d survived
Intensity in The Mind Of A Madman
I wish I could scream but I’ll not let my weaknesses show. No one will bear false witness to the tears that cry pathetic instability. Love, no feeling greater, yet no feeling more painful than love lost. There’s no such definition of love that does not revolve around the pre-notion that one truly knows another thereby sprouting roots of desire, stems of compassion and leaves of brazened benevolence. Can one truly know another, can one think as though they are one heart, one mind, one soul? I’ve never seen such stupidity nor heard of an instance of such insolence. A fantasy of hope in the utmost yearning for a lucid placement in life. Therefore, true love does not exist.
But true intensity?
That’s a far more interesting question. We’ve all experienced this burden of proof with someone so close, so open. “Making love” is merely making immense passion of scientific proportions. Flesh caressing such beautifully pampered flesh, hearts of a time bomb’s apparent glitch, beating with the conciseness of a metronome and the power of a lightning storm. Thoughts focused on a common goal; the electric touch and gentle thrusts. Chemical sweat mixing like a lab experiment. And the eyes, glazed over with an absence of drugs, yet you are too high to lie still and too gone to move in any direction not so rhythmic.
So, intensity or love?
I know of one very well, an achievement when persistence fails to be futile and her resistance brings her to her knees in exhaustion combined with the realization of a dependency for this intensity. The other? A joke. An unattainable bliss that if ever I chased I would be mauled with feelings of impudence like that of a catholic priest. The search for love alone is a disgrace to a predestined mortal destruction. Why do we corrupt ourselves with talk of love? This torturous ideology of social needs. These are reasons to uphold why I do not love her, cannot love her rather. I’m infatuated, obsessed, and entangled in her intensity. But this one, this one is different.
How?
I don’t know, but I feel it in the way her voice floats to me on wings. Stroking my face as though she’s been dying to touch me. I’ve never felt such voltage through talented fingertips, and I’ve never known the sight of superior perfection, until now. When did my heart quit? I couldn’t really tell you. But I know it was somewhere between first sight and first spoken word. In feeble attempts to violate her soul, my stare is locked on those divine eyes of ice. Something is tumbling chaotically inside. I’ve swallowed my fear and retorted apprehension. I’m free of selfish inhibitions yet filled with pages telling me to divert my mind from evil dispositions and replace such demonic substance with words of self-confessions, self-devotion, self-inclusive, self-fulfillment, and above all self-preservation.
Self?
Does “self” exist when it now contains you and your self? You are in my thoughts when making enigmatic decisions conjoined with selfless choices of future progresses. Solacement cannot co-exist with transversal thoughts of divinity. My wax heart, once melted and disfigured has vitrified into a translucent ornament of metaphorical illusions. Am I learning what love can be? Is this what I have protested infusely? I fought her fiat for the lack of desire, but this I’d rather not fend.
Why is this important you ask?
Maybe it’s not. Maybe those thoughts are obsolete in their lack of opportunity. But maybe my desire in her is because of her desire to understand me more personally than another. Maybe I require approval, acceptance, attention. Maybe there’s egotism in modesty, or confidence in uncertainty. But if these are truths than it is assumed that love can exist in a loveless world. I can’t decide, if even there’s a need to. I prefer to observe the angels in this world and through small focused smiles, ensure their eternal happiness. Intensity will commence when she smiles with certain fixity, knowing the inseparable attachment in all things, that is
Bliss moments before self-destruction.
This is nothing but a method to waste time. Don’t analyze these words too deeply; there exists no sympathy, no feeling, no heart, only pure dialectic redundant contradictions.
Nothing special, nothing personal.
The secrets you strive to understand through these polysyllabic phrases of non-sensual nihility will not subsist in this exiguous masterpiece of obsolete rambles gallivanting about these pages.
Read on.
Submit to this vile scribble as if my name attached will assist in its appreciation. It will not. What once I was called is now tarnished by disloyalty as if I implemented sedition. Not to mention, for an object to be apprized there must be a level of genius upholding its influence. This shit stands on a cretins attempt to provide doubt in the sub-standard thoughts of such simpletons in that they should question their aimless existence and all they believed to be unscathed. View my world with desensitized emotions, in a monotonous mannerism. Devour everything known to be holy, discredit morals, and return this ghetto villa to a simplistic mechanical process. We abuse these rules and mores to the point that they are now ill-desired.
Now corrupted by convenience we draft our own ordinance containing what we value. Libidinous nature, over-indulgence, accepted addictions. We drew attachment to this mobocracy, do not attempt to mutate our perfected anarchy; our world is enough to atomize your kind. So, what will become of these repulsive stories stained with opinionated pessimism? Maybe a fan base, with a website dedicated to a diverted thought process. Whether comprehensive of the cause or the goal, it matters not. These partisans shall hear these words and interpret twisted endorphins combusting into severe lunacy. Or perhaps, if they should remain ignorant and cut off to the horrors presented daily, they may then retain sanity and excuse thousands of suggestions as conspired literary spilth. These worthless lines hold absolutely no regard through my eyes; I expect nothing more from yours. Disassemble sentence structure, politics, religion, organized sports, hate groups, protests, media, music…music, sing flatly and so dull that people are sickened by your face. Exist for the sake of existence not for the sake of another’s. Fuck conformity, fuck resistance, and go fuck-crazy while dragging your feet through depression. I’ve vented this hatred corroding pre-motor sectors. A truly therapeutic session that means nothing to this voided mind.
Construct your own damn chaos.
That’s life.
At least that’s what they tell me.
They couldn’t be further from the truth.
This is Death.
Holding an undetermined shelf life,
We are expecting the worst but fearing the best. That’s why so many cannot take a first step.
It’s a puzzle that we fight to find the answer to, ignorant to the fact that there is no solution.
We are told to pray, as if someone is listening. We pray because we can’t fathom that this is the end.
Life and death are concepts created from a mental illness. A diagnosis yet to be discovered and meds yet to be prescribed.
Birth starts the clock, but we strive to create something that is not. It’s a countdown to the end. Breaking our backs to make a name, wasting our only chance for peace by starting social wars.
If I should die in here, right now…
Would you remember who I was
Or who I should have been?
I haven’t accomplished anything I once started.
My name will break
From their memories
And fade from their lips.
If I should die before you…
Get away from me.
Don’t let the hesitations in my life
Tie up the remainder of yours.
What am I if not forgotten?
What are great achievements?
I’ve always recessed just short of glory.
What the hell for?
I’ve been afraid of
The fall from the top.
Discarded? Of course not. Retracted? Definitely.
Don’t pity me, instead, despise me with half the hatred I hold for
Myself. I did this to everyone.
If I didn’t have failure, I’d have nothing and forced
To destroy myself emphatically. My destruction may
Then enhance your imperialistic reign.
If I should die within you…
Maybe then you’d awaken to hope.
Your ambition that I always believed in could be
Free to progress towards such content.
I’m the crack in your rib constricting each breath.
I’m the air in your vein, complicating a beautiful cycle.
I’m the glare of the sun that irritates the world below.
I’m an annoyance to everything you do, but I never gave up on your dreams
You are so close to becoming. I guess I was the only one.
I guess I wasn’t enough.
You fell with apocalyptic grace, yet I remained by your side.
The pleasant stench of Omega marked with the eight,
Stole an angels wings and brought her to her knees
To bow before her highness, bleeding gorgeous royalty.
But if I should die with you tonight…
It would mean the world to me.
Let me start this with me.
All covered in skin with blood flowing beneath.
Some bones to keep my nose clean.
But somehow I stand before you, hands layered in dirt
Why am I this way
When I cut myself I laugh at my pathetic attempts to die
How fucking weak, when thoughts of you floor me
And tears aren’t comforting; not like your hate
How warm your presence is when you glare
At least there is attention and the doubt is enough
I’m happy with the torment of wonder; maybe it’s better than knowing
This skin is only skin, not deism.
These bones will break
I am a man, whatever that means
I die like you, don’t expect too much from me.
I die like you, I fall for the thrill
I die like you, life’s not so mundane anymore
I die
I’m sorry
These were my dreams,
Displayed
Portrayed, and sketched out in pencil so I may alter them as people changed their minds about what felt right.
In pencil so as they forgot about me, I could do what I could to erase their image from my memory as well and return the favor
In pencil so I could readjust by writing in another name……. of another love.
In pencil, because everything is temporary.
Don’t give me your heart; I have one of my own
It’s in that box over there, with the mildew and mold
And it may not be beautiful, but it’s in tact
Ugly and priceless,
Bury me alive with it
And we’ll end this with me.
I’m so sick of this
Bored of the laziness
Someday soon
The dreams won’t be so disturbing
These mangled images
Of guilt? Of fear?
Of things to come
Affecting so near?
This place is a disease
No anger or hate shall subside
A war between ones minds
Adding to frustrations once cloaked inside
What is my infraction
To justify such justice
The worlds a safer institution
Now absent of constitution
I serve my country well
Either in honor or in cell
Stretching understandings
To fathom such a hell
I know not of this selfishness
In a situation of mass hopelessness
Conflict planned dreams with unpaved roads
Cancelling out all signs of hope
Destroy ascent, restricting chains
Cradle bruised wrists these tangles maim
To make any stronger shall reveal a new god
Cover your own eyes to mask the truth
If this fall doesn’t kill me
Stand before this vengeful king
It’s my turn to judge you.
Distorted images of unwanted memories
Tainted futures by vengeful enemies
Such horrific minds driven only by heresy
How do you choose your next target?
Judicial terrorism within homeland
Open your eyes in hopes to understand
We’re frustrated peasants beneath a powerful command
You started a war no one will forget
You thrive on your reputation; I’ll destroy your thoughts
Embarrassment is upon you, the world will know your faults
Shattered ego, discredit, and prejudice, everything you taught
I’m reversing your tactics, truth is surfacing
A country built on fear, afraid to fight what took these lives
These people will take back what’s theirs by natural right
Surrender sir, pray for miracles, your rep will contrite
Your world brandished on a thread so menacingly
I will return to “mens sana in corpore sano”
By means of which you’ll never know
Your diabolical crimes will soon be shown
“So powerfully strong” you’ll see the play through menstruum.
In your acts you’ve deliberately mortified
All that held such love and pride
Costly funds to keep them all blind
Your defeat will reveal the enlightened one.
You’re fucking done.
I’ve stared a thousand times at you
And never seen the truth
I’ve seen a thousand mistakes from you
But I continue to stare at you
And focus on what’s within your eyes
Such potential to be the perfect wife
So much evil clouding a beautiful mind
So it seems, one-thousand-and-one times
I’ve witnessed a thousand confusions within
Heart so holy yet filled with sin
I’ve pushed past the walls once pushing in
And filled you with promise again
Everything was done with you in mind
No one else could ever make me cry
I believe your vows to be by my side
Maybe it just takes one-thousand-and-one tries
My world’s for you
I can create anything you ask me to
Such perfection inside
Cause such bliss builds a perfect life
Forever’s not long enough
To wear this ring
Of what you promised me
What will it take to be by your side
Heartbreak, a thousand-and-one times.
What would you say
If you were in my place
How would you feel
Knowing just how they feel
Could you honestly play
As tomorrow’s just another day
You heartless son of a bitch
Tomorrow is just another day
The world is the enemy
Overlooking what you’ve done to me
If I’m alone as I fall upon my knees
That doesn’t mean they still can’t hear my screams
A stack of human remains acts as the ladder to heaven.
To ensure your place in the clouds you must hold another down.
What is fear but insecurities displayed upon the flesh.
Grip a new angel to hear your name upon her breath
I’ll step into a new skin to understand some blood flows cold.
Thoughtless acts come straight from heart, what heart I’ve left to hold.
Summoning insanity to guide lost feelings through the fog of souls.
Shouting out such evil chants, outstretched arms reaching for hope.
I’ll never let my morals die, my loves belong at home.
Crucify the weak, who give in to such pain, I will stand until you cast your last stone.
I’m a soldier as many but colder than most as I hold the weight of all that have climbed upon my remains. The bottom rung, the first great step, I’ve learned from your mistakes.
I WILL NOT FAIL TO AVENGE THIS HELL CREATED BY YOUR FACE.
AND THE FACE YOU SAVE THROUGH OTHERS SLAIN WILL BRING YOUR NAME TO SHAME.
FEAR WHAT IS BOTTLED, MARINATED IN YOUR BLOOD.
YOU WILL KNOW MY SACRIFICE AND ALL I WAS FORCED TO GIVE UP.
THE ONLY LIFE WORTH LIVING, MY LIFE, BUILT ON NOTHING…NOTHING…NOTHING…
But pure love
Hear my name
Holy tender sheep
This lion’s untamed
And awakened from his sleep
No longer will I lie
Beside you willfully
The valley is dry
And it’s now time to feed
What creates an extraordinary life
White to pale mutating to terrify
I’m a skeptic to Life Mythology
But I know marriage and I know family
These sharp words cut deep
This uncivilized environment fosters change
I want to take the next step in evolution
A dozen lectures a dozen needles
Familiar with pain, have you studied bliss
Learn the intensities in chromatic styles
Dignify sincere intentions of assassinations
A frenzied crowd disappears in every direction
Overhead, the damp odor replaces vision
Musty darkness feels perversely alive
Morning devours all shadows in his path
We will not succeed, we can’t even survive
You’re just a plane ride away
Or a baggage cart across the taxiway
I know you’re there and I see you halfway around the world
I can’t touch you and it’s crashing down upon my world
I know I hate you and your pictures I surround myself with
I have to force myself inside to continue trying to live
I cannot stay away from this unwanted love
But if I beg again I’ll confirm that you have won
You hold onto your pride by terrorizing mine
But can I collapse resistance and pretend that I tried
Soaked in your hate I’ve found will isn’t free
Enslaved by your nihilistic love leashed upon me
Love is inconvenient unless it is feigned
Fuck it, fake it, fabricate it, no matter diseased terrain
There are discerning measures between love and happiness
I love you but I’m happy with her
Purgatorial treasured blessedness
Forever and always; regretfully yours…
I don’t know exactly what’s making life so much harder
It seems so impossible to perceive what’s needed to achieve
Some testified, “one more than another,”
Solidified as we enlightened each other
Through seams, divinity unfolds
Lost secrets still requiring stories untold
None more true than angels as you
Balance in dreams surely shining through
Perfection exists always in ones heart
Love controls the minds instinct
Love’s in the eye, the window into everything the world knows
That only true beauty lies behind the soul
Though feelings may be hidden through disguise
I guarantee to stay, this love will survive.
He crawls, so you could see his pain
The blood trail leads to a man so maimed
He lost the battle but he struggles for the war
He pulls the last of his strength to slaughter and conquer
Arise from such hurt, the pain cannot be much
Beating in his head, a memory of such distrust
He overcame your gauntlet, and proved unworldly strength
A godlike attribute no man could create
Bruised wrists of torture from demonic restraints
Broken chains left behind horrors of a life detained
Though crippling injuries reward him such challenge
The glare in his eyes demands satisfying revenge
Even with muscles so atrophied
His unwavering thoughts seek out your selfishness and greed
The vision of daylight, through such darkened eyes
Burning recollections of evil, deep within his mind
Now blatantly disfigured in a world of such content
The scars he bears that you gave to him, guarantees resent
Distant mentality from malevolence so affirmed
The aches always endured will surely be returned.
I could ask the world what I mean to them
But their answer means nothing to me
I could ask you what good has come
From years of torturous loyalty
I need an answer to ease this pain
Is there hope for what’s so true
Is our love defeated and slain
Is there anything left within you
I asked Satan for help
But he’d rather see me cry
I asked god to return me to earth
He said, “Only in exchange for her life”
I guess it is better
When denial is all you know
Ignorance is bliss
When you don’t care who you let go
You are fortunate
In your ability to give up
And feel absolutely nothing
When everything’s so corrupt
But I co-exist with this hell
Of a love never returned
I linger with a blackened heart
Charred from these burns
I barely live when I struggle just to breathe
I must be half dead if I can’t feel my own heart beat
There is no resurrection in my future
There is no hope of resurrection for our future.
Thirteen
What innocence never wasted
Dropped toward a new path
Footsteps erased
No use in looking back
We’ve chosen our way
Things can never be the same
Find a new home between two pains
Drugs offer such change
Four years and no answers
Experience lost or just forgotten
Forgotten clocks answering time
That gave away those four years of mine
When exactly did I fall
After whom shall I crawl
What which where darkness creeps
Will deny me wine for sleep
Sixteen
A synonym for free
Trust developed beyond the playground
The first step into this game
Full throttle high, blue flash shot it down
Knowing of adrenaline
Growing up to be
A glimpse of what’s to come
Foreshadows reality
17
I never found
Never lived sixteen and down
I study your happiness, watching in scorn
4 years taken, 4 years returned
Call out to me
All you have to beat, deceased
What the fuck is seventeen
My eyes roll forward and I pick my head up. Staring in his eyes, I breathe heavily, summoning the courage to speak. He’s naked before me and open to all criticism though it seems he isn’t harmed by the possibility of a negative response. I wander visually, up and down his body and pointing out the defects and flaws in its construction. Counting; recording the tally marks in my head. So much disgust and he hasn’t even said a word. Look at his bones reaching for freedom beneath his skin; his moles, loitering about a pasty white complexion; his nose, his ears, his chin, exaggerated to a humorous extent. What a freak. It’s amazing that these sorts of people make it out into society, although I don’t typically see someone so hideous meandering about town.
I lean forward to scowl at this oddity. I can smell the morning breath, old pizza marinated in stomach acid and slowly rotting within his mouth; and the coffee stained teeth, a bi-product of long hours working at the video store and requiring a boost to tolerate the idiocy that challenges patience. But then again, without the idiocy, what job is a customer service rep. guaranteed?
After the long endured stare-down, the ringing of a phone slaps reality across my awareness. Never was a word spoken, yet so much was said. I slip my work uniform on and pop a breath mint past my darkened teeth. One last look into the mirror; the silence of a bedroom and a typical encounter; face to face with my worst critic.
I avoid your eyes because I know I stare.
Waves crashing through me and the undertow takes hold.
I wish I hadn’t swum beyond the buoys. The warnings that I was drifting too far. But the sunset was calling, lighting my way further and beckoning me to experience its warmth. But at least now I know of the impossibilities offered, a lesson learned through failure.
It was ethereal, as all things aesthetic. You were meant to be admired, but my gaze summoned discomfort. If only you could know of my intentions, if I could show you that my touch was the equivalent of your rays, pure and inviting, open and affectionate. My eyes were not enough, I had to deliver to you the world and I’d do so with it strapped to my back.
A journey would be pleasant, but this was so much more. The pain of the cold ocean made my muscles tense. I could float if only I could take a breath, but the vast would not allow me to surface. I never looked back to identify the creature keeping me from you, I didn’t care to face it, or I didn’t care to face my own weaknesses.
I thought I was strong; I had been once. But endurance is belittling when the reminder comes that you are human and cannot maneuver like a God.
I didn’t want to give up as I drift further into darkness. The pressure crushes my bones as the world above forgets I was ever home.
Your light became but a speck in the distance. I couldn’t fall further so I diminish at the bottom.
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(Pages 1-46 show above.)