Broken Thoughts…

Gunshots in the distance
Another life robbed of its innocence
Plagued by those around me
Fear that maybe were too similar
For existence
Said you’d exist but did we ever
Bleeding thoughts from your mind
Symptoms so familiar
As if I read it off the back of a piece of paper

Stuck somewhere in between here and there…

Think you know what’s wrong with everyday
Breaking down the thoughts to prove how wrong
I like your ideas, so smart of you
So sad just how sad all of this makes us
Like sawing off a limb for no reason at all
Sure we have our reasons but do we?
Time has taught us so much about nothing at all
Where to be when we aren’t needed
Where in the day we’ve started staring at the floor
Who could have known time would have ever been
So important to what we know

Keeping an eye out for so much more… 

Do onto others as they do to you
Only works if you are doing the right thing
But who is right? When we are all wrong?
Think you own me, have no idea what that entails
Are you really ready to take control?
Didn’t think so, so go ahead and let go
Let me know when you’re ready to destroy
Tell me when you know
How horrible it is to grow old
Desolate, destination unknown
Feel your hands gripping my soul
So go ahead and let go
Let it all go…
Carbon copy of those around you
You’re rebelling against what you don’t even know
So different yet all the same
Fit into something…
Hydra with so many heads
The masters never intended for any of this
To survive
Nothing has ever been built to last…

Broken Thoughts

Would seem that these thoughts fall into the political realm… oddly they were written about my job… so not quite as epic in scope… but if you put your life under the microscope you may find that the things happening on a world scale… are also happening right there in front of you… the consequences aren’t as dire as a nuclear blast… but that doesn’t mean it can’t hurt as much as one… think about it… pain is subjective to how you feel… not what someone else can take… we like to compare someone else’s pain to our own… they aren’t comparable… relatable?… sure… do others have it worse?… always… doesn’t down grade your suffering though… as comforting it may be to think about…

If you want to help others… you have to help yourself first… In New York… and possibly other places… we have this theory… saying… whatever… about people falling on ice… Never catch them… Stop them… Let them fall… it sounds awful… what piece of shit person sees someone falling and does nothing?… But there is a reason… can’t help someone if you both are in need of help… who will help the two of you?…

It is things like that… that makes me miss the cold… the bitter truth of life… the honesty of trying to survive… something lost in translation depending on where you live… Same goes for pain… hurt… suffering… no one knows exactly how you feel… that’s what this line means to me… it is me rationalizing that my bosses aren’t just assholes… though they may be… never rule anything out… but rather they are suffering just like me… a different way… sure… everyone is only trying to survive… I double down on this idea with this line… “Fit into something”… This idea that you are in charge is a false idea… there are so few of us on the planet who are actually in charge of our lives… and it isn’t even the ones that you think… those of us that fit into society… locked into in… lack the necessary means to be in control of our lives…

That is what we trade for structure… we trade fear… suffering for peace of mind… but someone forgot to mention… these things can’t be traded… given away… they evolve like a virus… becoming stronger over nothing… we become plagued by these fear that we thought we left… that we forget the point of life is to live… that winning isn’t the mansion… the fast car… the nice clothes… but breathing another day… an idea that is lost in translation… uncomparable between different parts of the earth… some of us have it easier… but better?… what is better?… 

There are things to get angry about and things to just brush aside… the problem with the world isn’t that we are all wrong… it is that we are not focused… “Hydra with so many heads”… No battle is ever won by throwing everything you have at once… it takes focus… no one can truly understand what is going on by trying to figure it all out at once… 

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Broken Thoughts…

The signs were there all along
Lighting the way for the climax
Illuminating the inevitable fall
Who does this to them, to ourselves
Statistically speaking one and the same
Reality couldn’t be any further apart
Looked so good on paper
It had to work at least once
What could all this really mean
To someone who doesn’t care
I gave up but we took turns
Statistically speaking one or both should be dead by now
Still fucking breathing in all the pain
Still thinking about all the shit never said
If we can’t be honest then why worry about the truth?
Inhuman to think this all began with a bunch of lies
Written down in tiny font, thin paper flapping in the wind
Against the sands of time nothing can last
But everything will be fine

Give in is to die but I’ve been dead for so long…

65 pages on the same thought
Six albums and I’ve already forgot
Therapy couldn’t be any simpler
If only it had worked the first time
Revisiting the same sad thoughts
That makes me so fucked up
Dancing with the devil couldn’t release these demons
Gods warm embrace hasn’t done much to subside the pain
Out of options and ways to say
I can’t stand the fact that you exist
So I’ll see you there
Pretend to not care but I always will
No matter how much I stab at the thoughts
Burn them down and piss on the ashes
They will still be there, we will still be here

Like memories burning in the sun…

Spoke the words, told you once before
Each little thought isn’t a metaphor
So worried about me, but not yourself
Blind, too blind to see the real hurt
Deaf, too deaf to hear the real words
Soft spoken and I know it hurt long before
Each little syllable even made a noise
So worried about you, but not myself
Numb, too numb to feel the real pain
Bland, too bland to taste the real thoughts
Pulling the strings tighter
Until I could never see, hear, touch, or taste
Ever again

Broken Thoughts

tick… tick… ticking right on by… locked in this stupid mask… stuck between the space between the skin and the leather… gets lonely in here at times… beads of sweat dripping down… the smell only grows worse… but there is no better place to call home… think things could be better… could be worse… or they could always be the same… at least for at least sake… things could be… trying to remember why it is that I keep going… while thinking of every reason to call it quits… stuck somewhere in between… the skin and the razorblade… time is only tick… tick… ticking by…

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Broken Thoughts…

The chambers of the heart
Keep pumping blood
Even if there is no will to go on
Patience but for what
A long waiting game for nothing at all
I carved one out
Only to give one up
Nothing feels natural anymore
A made up act
I call love
Doesn’t matter anymore where it comes from
If only my thoughts could match my actions

Stuck between times there is no outlet for my crimes…

Sat around today
Doesn’t mean anything
Thought I would share
My inner thoughts
Going through hell
Marching past the gates
Lakes of fire burning bodies made of shit
They are heard but with no real thought
Doesn’t rhyme at the end I don’t care
The Jesus freaks sing their hymns to me
As though it might help
The blood cascades down the wall
You know you are home
When everything is comfortable
Bones line the edges of the room
You know you are home
When everything is fine
Skin drapes the furniture
You know you are home
When everything is normal

It all seems so useless to struggle for…

Where ever, what ever the sun touches
A kingdom lost to you
A level never reach except for a few
Where ever, what ever makes them special
It wasn’t destined for you
Acceptance is the first step to something
Where ever, what ever the sun touches
A world taken from you
A step never reached except for a few
Where ever, what ever makes them happy
It wasn’t destined for you
Acceptance is the first step to something
Where ever, what ever the sun touches
Never belonged to them in the first place
Break the cycle or accept it for what it is
Where ever, what ever is up to you
The secret stolen from so many

Broken Thoughts

The theme for this week is greed… truly broken thoughts… always wanting more… more of something… more food… more money.. more sex… more pain… greed doesn’t go away with more… too much of a good thing is never enough…  considered one of the seven deadly sins… Greed is hard to escape on a day to day basis… who doesn’t want more?… what defines more?… at what point should we cut ourselves off from more?… I know I could always use more… more sleep usually… more of anything at this point… turns out I am human after all… was holding out for different… but I’ll settle for human… 

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Broken Thoughts…

My hands are callus and soaked in blood
Quitting isn’t what it used to be
Walking away isn’t a train of thought
It’s an action that weighs more than itself
The words so heavy
They don’t come out right
Nothing comes out right anymore
Each thought is loaded with regret
Forced out by a will to keep going
God I fucking hate every God damn thing
Does that make sense or are we only confused
If I could I would but I couldn’t so I didn’t
Have too much responsibility now
Makes more sense if you know
I care more than I pretend to let on

Smile and act natural…

“The one with the Indian on it.”

“I think they prefer Native American.”

“I think they’d prefer if we gave them their land back. But in the meantime, the one with the cartoon Indian will do just fine.”

The lights all burned out…

Chasing our demons step by step
But how long do we keep doing this
To the end, to an end
A line has been drawn long before
Not another step to take and yet
See plenty of space to keep on going
Is this the end or only the begin of something
That couldn’t possibly be understood?
Gave more of myself then I’d like to admit
So I won’t and you’ll think I don’t give a shit
Because I don’t even when I do
Wanted more, wanted less, all I want is what I got
A feeling that can’t last forever but I’ll keep searching
So here’s to you, here’s to me, here’s to fucking everything
Resting in my head and what we can see through closed eyes

A fractured reality of what I have to deal with every day… stretched out over years… you think that I’m not listening… you believe me when I say that I am not… but really I’m taking it all in… absorbing every useless thought… stabbing myself with the idea that I am better than you… I’m more you than you will ever be me…  I’m nothing more than what time forgot… lurking in the shadows… standing next to you at every turn… don’t look because I’m staring… smile because I know I will… “Is there anything I can help you find?”… 

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Something Different…

Together Until the End

The thoughts like suicide lose meaning
If done more than twice

Unable to find meaning in what’s been said
Never look back, keep plowing ahead
None of this will matter when we are all dead
Nuclear holocaust, burning until there is no resolve
Whoever said the cold war had ended is dead now
I’m telling you to have something to say
Not that anyone would listen anyway
Who am I, amongst the masses
Who am I, amongst the depressed fascists
There can be no voice of a generation
If everyone is shouting at the same time
How is it that the dumbest rise above us
How is it that we could be so blind
Falling for the same tricks time after time
Maybe in the end, there is no intelligent life after all
Stepping back into line, right on time
Maybe we deserve each other, deserve the graves we’ve dug
At least in this, we will finally be one
Rotting and bleeding, once and for all

Jesus… no question… why I don’t have any friends… maybe if I change my train of thought… I wouldn’t be so fucked?… old dogs only learn new tricks because they are hungry… I’m about as thirsty as a bridesmaid on wedding day… Any of this working for you?… trying to be anything other than myself… is going over as well… as a Brillo pad against the skin… steel wool sticking out of the scars… favorable reviews… tell me I am on to something… cleansing myself wasn’t much easier than I thought…

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Something Different…

Not Much Left To Say

Dress all in black to match my shadow
Fit into my skin, stretched out and hollow
Wash away my sins
When there’s no way left to win
Bleeding myself dry to exist
So tired of throwing the same old fit
Most days wish I did not exist
Suicide is pointless when no one gives a shit
The world works so unlike the mind
Lost in time, stuck in place
Who I am, Who I want to be
Sell my soul, nothing left to sell though
The devil makes deals than God must as well
No one, nothing safe from sin and corruption
Sex sells, cheaply given away, cast aside
Question everything ever presented to me
What am I worth if I’ve felt worthless along
Attacking my own mind, my own worst enemy
Hidden behind my eyes
Poisoning my own self to feel like the rest
Who needs a shepherd when we have ourselves
Conforming but don’t know what for
Too much shit on my mind and none of it matters at this time
Sixteen days, sixteen years what’s the difference
When it all slips away
I feel so naked without a place to go
Life in boxes, moving pictures with poor resolution
I wanted so much now there is so much left that I do not want
Contradictions become constricting
Venomous snake wrapped around my neck
The noose is alive and well as I begin to sweat
Sticky, sweet flesh of flesh
Bone to bone, I don’t think I have much left to lose
If I gave you enough reasons
Would all of this make any sense
Lost in the words
Lost in time
Space is an abstract thought
We all have to rationalize
This land is your land
Until I take it back
A worthless idea
Propagated by the demand
For something free

I know that it is Thursday… I know I’m supposed to talk out of my ass about some topic I barely understand or relate too… But I haven’t really been in the mood… sucks because there have been some pretty crazy topics as of late… Like how Facebook knows more about me than my own mother… honestly they might know more about me than I do… feel kind of bad for them… too bad they couldn’t take these broken feeling out of my mind… their recent ads at least tell me they are trying… With a Nailgun and a Few Boards… isn’t a half bad title for a book… haha… I kid… how am I supposed to put the last nail in?… not logical at all… oh well…

Then there are the school walkouts… good for them… wish we would have been smart enough to do that sooner… this next generation is something else… agree or disagree with their reasons… you have to admit… it takes a lot to make a stand… is there anything more American?… besides suppression?…

Teachers asking for more money… they deserve it… anyone willing to make our lives better… deserves more money… at least some food stamps… or free housing… something… I mean I am willing to do just about anything… but teach children?… maybe in hell… well my dark thoughts just washed away… life is good.. keep smiling… and give them some more damn money… 

Been going through a lot… that’s all that needs to be said about that really… I mean I’ve been busy trying to drown myself in my own tears… so far it hasn’t worked… fingers crossed… trying to cover the spectrum of life right now… not really sure when I will be getting myself out of this bathtub… What did you think I was using a glass to collect my tears?… I really need to get out of the house… or at least the bathroom… 

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Something Different… More Of The Same…

Breakdown

Working towards something
Pushing myself to the edge
The brink of everything that’s real
The point at which I am dead
Keeps digging, the mind wants more
Keep reliving, the memories I deserve
Stains on broken glass
Visions left without words
Bring to life everything that I fear
Bring the innocent to their knees
Beg for forgiveness though no reason why
I belong to everything, now that is a lie
Working the words into something
Something ugly, the way that I feel
I’m sure by now you can tell
I don’t care about you and how you feel
Not that it matters when we feel the same
As we breakdown into nothing
The dust we can’t stop breathing in
The past no one ever gave a fuck about

Do you think if I provided razorblades with each book sold… people would get that it is a joke?… I… of all people… was tasked with finding a way to boost sales… Because I’m full of amazing ideas… Don’t worry… apparently razorblades are too expensive… so they turned me down… sharpen the pages maybe?… a thousand tiny paper cuts with every thought…

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Told me to shut up… and just provide the damn links… guess who is no longer on the boost sales committee?… who said depression wasn’t good for anything?… they also asked me to tell you… that I am fine… but is anyone ever really fine?… I’d love to met that person… I’m sure we could have a real good time…

Amazon

Something Different…

Laughing In the Face of Darkness

There is a story I’m always trying to tell
It doesn’t have a beginning, middle, but it does have an end
It is long, some might say endless
A story I can never seem to get straight
Give it all I got, in the end, it never makes any sense
Wish you could see my thoughts as they see me
My hopes and dream is that maybe one day
You can feel what it is like to be me
Bleed thoughts onto the page, inhale words to live another day
If only it was all for something
Wonder if I would have more to say
Living life in reverse is no way to live
Search for the middle without anywhere to begin
Another day wasted, I’m wasting away
How much more of this shit am I willing to take
Standing still, standing right here as I always have
Had no other options so what choice did I have
Feel as though I have said this all before
All those times before

You’d think after two hundred of these things… I would have something to just cut and paste… or copy and paste if you’re nasty… or if you are like me… too lazy to hit backspace… feeling at odds with myself… not lost… not standing in place… only going with the random thoughts in my head… This post didn’t end where I thought it would… satisfied none the less… turning the lights on and off… haunted with the madness coursing through my veins… sometimes it works… and sometimes it doesn’t… I guess that’s the point of going off the deep in… 

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Postscript of the Unimaginative…

After a while life just starts to feel like a prison. You work your ass off in hopes to get back time lost with good behavior, but it is useless. Things will never be like how they were. Things will never be how it was when we were young. Life drags on as one long prison sentence that never ends and the only thing we are guilty of is being born. Try and fight at the restraints. Try as hard as you want and that is all you are doing is fighting. The advantage of the simple minded is that they aren’t fighting. They don’t need to fight. Can’t see the restraints, can’t feel them, they have no idea that they are there. They live in another world built into this one. The one we always wanted to be part of but somehow knew better. The chains aren’t real, but they are heavy as hell. A crippling burden we care as we walk among them. Breathe the air that they breathe. We talk as if though we don’t know. We know more than we should.

I wash my hands so I can eat. I wash the grime and filth of the world from the hairline cracks of my broken hands. No matter how much I scrub, I bleach, I strip away I know that it is still there with me. Buried in my pours the toxins never leave. I’m smarter and better than this, but I was born into this, the American dream. Swallow all the lies like pills and you begin to see that those pills to make you better are nothing more than lies. Anti-depressants pressed against the roof of our mouths, feel better? I know that I don’t. I try to forget, but I know that I already know.

I’m told that I need them. Told without them I am crazy. They say it nicer. They say it like it fucking matters. Damaged is what they mean to say. That’s not PC. That’s not okay. They don’t fucking work and I punch another hole in the wall. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It only feels like me. I’m having an episode as they say. This is normal. Is it? Is this endless feeling normal? I was unaware of how normal I am. Tell me how all of this is okay while giving me another pill to make me better. I’m broken not stupid. Too many years of feeling like this tells me it doesn’t work. The balance, the chemicals, the whatever the fuck is who I am. The taste of it all is making me sick. I don’t feel sorry for myself. Some of us have it worse. But what is worse inside your head?

Only hurts in time… most things drag along… against the glass… against the concrete… until there is nothing left to drag… bits and pieces left behind… a lifetime spent looking for what was already there… a lifetime learning that nothing at all was what you already had… understanding only comes with time… good thing… we still have plenty of it… to drag along to…

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Amazon

Yellow House, Brown Shutters

So, this is what it is like to belong? Belong to a family? Feeling useless or pointless ninety percent of the time. Feeling awkward in a room full of people you tell half-truths too in order to feel superior or make them feel proud of you. Family is nothing more than a group of strangers pretending they give a shit. Society, in general, is the same thing. Thin little threads made of lies hold it all together until it is time to fall apart. My thoughts are my own but, on some level, everyone in this room is thinking the same thing.

In some ways, I wish I could read minds. Not that I would have to in moments like these. More or less, we are all the same even if we don’t want to be. We are all self-serving, egotistical assholes yet we can’t get along for five minutes of a real conversation or thought. When such a thing even comes up the room goes silent to the point that even a whisper is a scream because everyone is afraid to unravel the lie that we all get along.

Maybe we aren’t meant to get along? Maybe we are supposed to yell and fight and hate each other in the open? Maybe just how we feel inside is what it means to be human?

“What are you thinking about?” My mother asks. “Nothing,” I take a bite of potatoes, “Nothing at all.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she smiles…

Happy Fucking Holidays… or whatever… Another event I have to sit through… another day I have to take in everything everyone has to say… This is why I spend most of my time in my basement drinking the time away… the whispers behind my back… giving them something to say… filling their mouths with words… I’m doing my part… not wearing a mask right now makes me feel naked… the mask never comes off… but this one itches… layers of skin exposed to the fresh air… the tainted smiles… and all the shit they have to say… misery is finding out this won’t end… even at my funeral… gathered around my body… saying the same old shit… the kids are all fucked up… the worlds on fire… and I don’t know why it has to rain right now… of all times for the world to keep moving on… as though it doesn’t give a shit… rambling on and there’s only three more hours left of this… shaking hands… giving hugs… eating the same old shit… if I went into a coma would any of them even notice?… would I even notice?… I guess I already did… unless this is it?… One long trapped nightmare inside my head… What is the point of any of this?…

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Everyone else is out “enjoying” their family time… left me here to do all the work… click some links… buy some shit… who cares… it’s not like any of us are going to stop… I gave up on financial independence a long time ago… but someone hit those other assholes on the head with a hammer or something… they actually believe one day they… that this will all be something… I know better… I figured it out long ago… as Clayton Blackwood once said… “Government checks are there for a reason… someone has to pay for this shit”… so support the others or don’t support them… I’m drunk enough to know… that chasing ghosts is only for those with hope… that would make a for a good book title… chasing ghosts is all that we are doing… chasing them to the grave… phantom impressions of our former selves… maybe I’ll find mine some day… clutching a bottle… face resting on the keyboard… one can only hope…