I fell in a deep sleep with a marker in my back pocket. To intercept my dreams and understand the concepts. I woke up with a painting, my blankets soaked in violets. Oil pastels on the floor, the quiet sound of silence. The last thing I remembered was this community so immodest, all striving for their dreams, but always selfishly dishonest. A lie always followed by a broken promise, a broken promise followed by, some kind of conflicts. Intimidation flowed through their bodily matrix. What they had in their bag of tricks proved the pain they were trying to inflict. How curious was this world overturned... I found myself watching everything unfurl. I watched bus drivers be tortured everyday, forced to watch the youth be amused, and reminded that they'll soon pass away. Nostalgia hits them hard with every child that plays. All they can think about was, the times of better days. We all try to bring back our inner child and ways of the past. It doesn't matter though those moments never last. Moving forward we try to always do the right thing. Which is impossible, when you're stuck on what everyone else thinks. Who the fuck is anyone to say anything to you? Look through the masses and remember, to continue what you do. Accept yourself, accept your own point of views. There's no one in life that you have to listen to. What's considered moral and in by which guidelines do you read upon, to tell someone other than yourself, the difference of right and wrong? With the values we take, they relate to what we become. Yet in the end we seem to always just succumb and ignore the many floors of self interest. Try to open new doors to explore but it's just so listless. Instead is the bitterest sight we ever will have witnessed. So we move on like shitty winters can be forgotten through things like Christmas. Patchwork on roads make potholes harder to control. I find myself seeing its just a metaphor, for how we dig ourselves deeper. No matter how we mend, tweak, or critique it, its going the wrong way, so it just gets weaker. Snow manifests the flow of the population, such a stagnant situation tends to loosen our motivation. This relates to how we try to block out our troubles. Like pain can be forgotten, like we can repress our daily struggle. With a subtle hint of bliss, or artificial happiness. We try to pretend its gone but it's just so obvious Dimes laid on our eyes we're finally laid to rest The worst of our stress was pushed to the test. And here we are at the end. And what did we make of our lives? We thrived and strived to live just to die. And what do they remember? About us when we were alive? It would hurt to tell you, so I think I'll just lie.

Is this the kinda time that we live in, where shit has been hittin the fan, constantly ditching ideas and demands? For the future expands at this excessive rate of speed that correlates at a relative means and disembodies us all like some relevant disease that us, as humans, don't have the power to exceed. Well Jeeze, it's never as easy as it seems and I plan to leave this place just as fast as I can breathe. But is this the kinda place and time where a life will not be spared in regards of another persons strife? That we selfishly agree to destroy another life in means of our own happiness, without thinking about the outcome at least once or twice? Well lead me not into temptation to do the same as others, and take my will from myself just to break this sky above us. Love us, love our eyes, love our lives and bring back the spirit that once we survived on. Divided we destroy all we made and saved. I break from this negativity and I break from my pain in order to create a life more secure and safe. I break the foundation of what I once stood on and create a new path in which to walk on. Among the nature of these Hero's and scholars. I won't be left behind with the masses at the bottom. I take my heart and squeeze every drop left. I pace myself clean up every last mess. I push the boundaries and picture the rest. The last of my strength now will be pushed the test. But is this the kinda world that we live in that neither boy nor girl can have any love given, to another, to create a greater place to live in? That we can't just agree for the sake of the children? It's this world we make ourselves, yet, everyone forgets this place we wake IN can be hell. We forget that our actions effect our surroundings, we forget everything in which that everything was all founded. Grounding ourselves to the floor in the last efforts to fix the world, but it's to late for us all... We are so blind to see what is not in our reach but please forgive me for everything that I need. I bleed for my brothers and I cry with my sisters, I laugh at my enemies, I break all my blisters. As my mom once told me... "Son no need to worry, You are now amongst your family. These are your loved ones. And once you can stand above these problems, you yourself are the one to take out this anxiety and say fuck this society. Quietly move with the crowd until you have the strength to speak loudly... and once you are there, you will shout, and you will never come down. And I'm up just like I was always told, but as time goes by I'm getting old, but stay young as fuck in my soul. Broke the mold and now I will take on all I can. Fuck your hate and I'll say fuck all that you stand for . It's time we move forward and say fuck what they toldya. Time to grow bolder as your heart still stays colder. Nothing's getting in the way of my path, every days my day now yesterday is the past. I intend to make do and continue to move forward.

What should I be excited for, and why should I raise my hopes? Pessimistic view on life is how I've learned to cope. I've learned from madness and mistakes, that both our bound to happen. It's that point in time when I'm gladly held accountable for my actions. But once I get past them, I'm left with something meant. Depending how it all played out, either Joy or regret. Transitional tactics lo and behold a tangible fanatic, that's left breathing soil, trying to surface from these habits. That's pressed with reason oils slowly decaying from the stratus. A pinch of hope is divided between myself and unfortunate others. Permanent Pounds per square inch are guided and distributed left to smother. Every lover, I ever meant was a liar, deceitful, dry, dishonest. Everyone was promised the opposite of the results. Off of an impulse they broke promises into petty pieces, and you wonder why my trust, annually decreases? I learned we are more often treacherous through weakness, than we ever were calculation. I'm starting to believe it the more I focus on self-observation. I abandon my consciousness and my innovation, I try to think more along the lines of steady admiration. Break free from all of shackles, past predicaments and scandals, left placed out of view and slowly burning on the mantle. Forgotten and burnt out, I gain in and reach doubt. Day in and day out, things I lose are all about this. I know you meant it when you said, and I know you mean it when you say: how much you hate my personality and that nothing will ever be okay. I think deep down inside your heart you're happier now that I'm away. It's like when kids play when their parents are gone. Digging up dirt and grass in the neighbors front lawn, and knowing no one will ever find out. So I swallow these two deep breathes plummeting in my chest. One slow steady pace I make before dawn. I keep an eye out on, the sights I'll soon erase. Embrace these thoughts in case things progress and get to heavy, this hard heart shakes unsteady already, without any other causes and ends before I start it. I'm left wrongfully accused that I got what I wanted. While they flaunt it, drowned in their own competition. I'm daunted, struggling to save my ambition. This new way of life is like another dimension. Stressing on thoughts I thought I lost that were independent to my surroundings and all the things left unfounded. I swear one day, I swear that I'll be grounded, to the floor strapped with hope to a pale beige carpet. Fuck that actually a cherry Mahogany wooden floor. I'll drop down to the deepest spots of this earth, till I know I have explored. I won't have settle for less and I'll slowly grow some more. Till I'm old dead and decayed This life I play is broken up page by page. Etched in paragraphs and forgotten in daze of yesterday's. What I can say I won't, and what I can do I don't, But I will try.

How can I explain the disregarded thoughts in my mind? When I think about it inside and how you think you were the one who tried. Well god don't make me laugh, and god don't make me cry, but this shit is blowing up I think I'll be the one to decide. About the ideas that's breaking up and splattering over my window pane. How many months has it been? Can you tell me how many days? Well what would you say? Let's pretend you ever even gave a fuck and I can sit right here and tell you how I meant every last touch. Get the fuck up off the pedestal and give me back my years. I swear this fucking grin is burning every last of my yearning fears I have left. Left with thoughts, left with the dizzy shaking head. It reminds of the people I hear daily and the things they all have said. These greedy folks intertwine in the design of my swollen life and I try to forget about the first time that I ever even tried. Silly me, thinking I could just enjoy my petty time. Stupid me, contemplating I could write some fucking lines. Well who are you? and who am I to second guess this decision twice? It looks like I'm taking this plunge and forever cursing myself. Taking these books up off the shelf just to ignore my fleeting health. We'll watch every conversation dissolve and pretend that we can be helped. Well this is it. What do you think, and tell me, what do you want to sell? Well this is it, What do you think? Slowly sag and pout your mouth. Well this is it, my fingers are crossed and I'll ignore what I have lost: Solidarity, free time, but I lose it at what cost? I deal myself my own cards and destroy every last cell. Welcome to joy and love in this forever, wretched fucking hell.