There's something wrong in my head.

I'm in a place where Satan looks a lot like God, where I can't decide whether I should shake my head or nod to things I'd like to tell myself I know I don't agree with. And I know I don't agree with them and so does everyone else that has even met much less heard about my parents and the way they raised me. I didn't want mom or dad to find out about my sin, but 11 pages later and I still think I’m the smartest person in the world. Oh no, mom, we don't defile our bodies with worldly poisons or fill up our lungs with toxic smoke, but I can tell you for a fact I read my bible everyday and I talk to God more than I talk to any of my friends. But, you know, maybe I lied a little bit back there. Maybe I just told a little white lie that one day I will be judged for before the judgment seat of who I thought was supposed to be my savior. What I actually meant to say was I live a life completely contrary to what you and dad taught me. I am not perfect, and no one else is, but I know what perfect is for me and I am far from that. I’d like to think I'm not miserable and I’d like to think I'm right. But I know good and well and so do you that I am not the person I am supposed to be. When I cry I cry tears of laughter rather than tears of sorrow when I realize my habits will lead to my demise. There's nothing wrong with what I'm doing, there's nothing wrong going on in my head. I'm just a selfish sinner who would rather end up dead when I know good and well I’d rather be up in heaven with my family and friends. I couldn't tell you what friends of mine I'd see up there but if they're the ones I've been hangin’ around then I’d be a little bit more than surprised. I've been praying for them for about over a year now and I so shamefully pray for myself when I know shortly after I'm gonna slip up just like they have. Conviction is a powerful medicine but the sting will hurt me more than you know. I constantly wonder why I can't live the life I want to, like there's something special about mine. Those who plan to seek God at 11 die at 10:59, and I can't afford to lose that time. I gotta act now, God, I gotta act now, but with the environment I live in I'm not sure how. Help me Jesus find the way back to my bed, help me Jesus fix the wrongs in my head.

you can't ever live your life the way you want.
there's always gonna be that something, that someone, that rests in the back of your brain and you just can't help but keep picking, picking at it until you begin to bleed, bleed out a blood that has never been so dark of a red. this blood is filled with hate, lust, desires, curses, and lies. you know you can never give that up, or rip it out. it is one of your organs, a necessity to live. taking that away would be suicide. we live a life we think is great, honored, and fulfilled, when in the meantime we have such a heartfelt hate for the entire world, the entire universe. you never want to turn back. you turn around, and around, in an endless rotation of misery that makes you dizzier and dizzier until you have to stop yourself and regain your inertia you so unwillingly released just a few seconds before. we live in a dying age, an era of hatred and sadness. nothing is more depressing than to see the life you and me will be living is the climax leading up to our downfall as humans. yes, we have the technology, the cars, the computers...but what else to life is there? those who lead us lead us with hoaxes and lies, feeding us with false fodder and hope we digest every bit of it and bow to thier feet as we ever so blindly worship those who were created as equal as anyone else. what is our world coming to? death after death, war after war...there is no peace. there will never be peace. the proportion of activists to raging God-haters is so overwhelming there is no way anybody can stop what will happen. destruction is inevitable. nothing is going to change, no matter how hard you try. the best we can do is try to live the best life we can in a state of misery. we are all miserable. life has no meaning, except to pay for the food we eat and the clothes on our backs. our children have no refuge, and our grandchildren are hopeless. what the world doesn't realize is we're all goners, and it's all our fault. pitiful. absolutely pitiful. some of us may never find love or happiness in the midst of the everlasting crises of our planet. i urge you to try your best to find this love, this happiness, so maybe one day you can open your mind to your loved one, your child, and preach to them about your generation, the generations before you, and how they all contributed to this awful, shameful habitat we live in today. love is dead. hope is dead. righteousness is dead. you will never, ever, be the person you want to be. don't give up now, but don't try to live your life knowing you will be that person, that image. you can't control what happens to you, because once you think you're straying away from the path, that path will reshape itself into the path you decided and eventually will bite you in the neck later to your demise. you are no king. you are no leader. you can't change anything. all you are is a speck of dust on the ground we call Earth, fighting against the wind of agony to serve your purpose--a fledgling who cannot fly, a bird with no wings. we must walk to our destination because there is no other way. we all will walk alone, together. we are all alone.

Word Association

An exercise in my Creative Writing class: write a poem using the words from a class word association activity.

The magician's creativity reincarnated what seemed to be a vivid description of Alice In Wonderland.
My belief behind astronomy and movies is only seen as half a scissor, a blade, a mad scientist.
What will the paparazzi do now?
Have I committed social suicide, telling Johnny (Depp or otherwise) that I might escape to Vegas?
This law of physics, and the apple, mean nothing to me.
Karma reddens as the tiger inside you metamorphoses into an insignificant worm.
The sun to Newton is not the sun to Metallica.
The bunnies were hungover, Wayne.

The Ocean, The Sea

The ocean, the sea
Two things to fascinate me.
Bodies of water, bodies with limbs
Creeks like fingers, rivers like arms, lakes like hands.

From the shallows to the darkness,
From the tide to the waves,
From the lost anchors to the lost vessels at sea,
From the moonlit reefs to the sunshine's reflection,
From the smallest of minnows to the largest of monsters,
The ocean is expansive.
The ocean is like a giant aquarium:
Edges like glass,
Sunken ships.
"Anchors aweigh," says the Captain.
Little does he know the mystery beneath him.
The wind, the rain, the hurricanes,
Become familiar with each other.
An aqueous wasteland, some of which is undiscovered.
But the fish know what's there.
The ocean is no mystery to them.
They are mere spectators in an audience of wonder.
All that's left is its discovery.

This is Not an Obligation

I want to start the movement;
I want to wake the generation.

Could I be any more happy?
I can't bear to lose this opportunity
to cherish life, and look back on the things I love.
After witnessing perfection at its best,
my thoughts are going haywire.
The good kind of haywire.
A needle in a haystack.
Electrical wires.
Wires, and the concept of breathing.
Driving aimlessly in the sky.
Listening to the sky.
Listening to the sky in stereo.
I write because I love.
I love because I can,
not because I feel an obligation.
Are we obligated?
Obliged on a hang glider, what to do?
And that's when I fell into the stream.
The stream of consciousness.

Past the Point of Conversation

when i woke up this morning to find you not here,
i started to think
'where did you go,
and why did you leave me here alone?'
'cause you always told me
you're always gonna be right beside me, here
so i'm asking you
just please don't go away from here
just please stay with me
and you said,
'i'm not going away'

you said you'd never leave me
you said you'd never forsake me
and you were right

Mirrors

as i look into the mirror,
the suspicious looking glass,
i think about my calling
and i see my future pass.

time and time again
i gaze into my eyes
with nothing left to find
but a lonely, scared disguise.

i tend to have my own perception
about what lies beneath my shallow reflection.
i overlook the sly deception
leaving my thoughts for recollection.

i'm searching for an answer
for this holy transformation
while my mind, spirit, and soul
wander off in my mind's elation.

i dream, i wish,
i ponder, i percieve.
i think, i ask,
i wonder, i believe.