Thursday, May 27, 2010
Summer Lovin'
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Sometimes The Truth Is Perfect
What is the truth?
Everything.
You, me, everything.
We expect the truth to always denote something hidden that at times can be bad, a flaw, a lie, a deception. Something that’s hard to handle, in the sense that you don’t want to hear it because you know it’s true and you don’t want to accept it or realize that other people realize it too.
We always want to be perfect and we feel like the truth is the only thing that makes us imperfect. Which is ironic, because there is nothing more perfect than hearing the truth and knowing that people see exactly who you are. That’s all we should strive for, for people to see the truth in everyone. To see who everyone is. It’s hard to admit that each one of us is “perfect.” But it’s true.
I really don’t like to say that I am perfect, because that’s impossible for me to do. I don’t want people to see the truth in me, because I see the truth as an imperfection. A roadblock to acceptance, which is stupid. Because how can anyone truly ever accept me if they aren’t even accepting the true me. The truth is only hard to handle in the sense that it strips you of your masks. And you see yourself as you are. And as you are is just as you should be.
How can I even be fit to write about this because I am just what I shouldn’t be. I don’t want people to see me as much as I would like to think.
That scares me.
To realize that everything you don’t like.
Everything you are trying to hide.
Everything you are trying to disguise.
Is in fact
perfection.
I LOVE THIS THOUGHT. ABSOLUTELY HORRIFYINGLY FASCINATING. WHAT A GREAT COMBINATION RIVALING ONLY HUMMUS AND ANY TYPE OF BEAN. AHHHHHH THE MIND THE MIND THE MIND I AM IN LOVE WITH EVERYTHING.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
SUN SUN SUN
THE SUN IS OUT AND EVERYTHING IS PERFECT. right now i'm lying out in the sun on the grass outside. outside is a little redundant. but i just want to make it clear. no human should be inside on a day like this. what is it about the sun that makes everyone so happy. i can't stop smiling even if i wanted to. MENTAL NOTE: minestrone bad idea on hot day.
Is it possible to write without thoughts
without feelings, emotions, or wants
the intended purpose without direction
what is the purpose of poetry. is it just to make your thoughts more concise. do people just not want to write a book rambling about themselves or their observations. just wanting to captivate the human mind, knowing that we all think there are more important places to be, to see, to experience. but perhaps poets know that we won’t notice it or care to think deeply about it. this is rambling. i should’ve written a poem. i don’t even care to think/read about what i’ve written. but i don’t understand how people even write poems. how are they so accurate in their speech. how do they choose the words that they know describe what they are feeling. maybe poets don’t really feel these emotions but rather see the emotions in words in an art form that others do not. they want to make people aware of what the feelings are called. what it means to love. how to express it simply.
seeing your thoughts on paper is so strange. it’s hard to imagine that all that is going on in your head and you’re still able to function in the world. proof of god. good way to end any mind-blowing thought.
but on another note, cheese sweats.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
The Title Told Me So
Yellow Line
Across the street I saw myself
A mere shadow of my soul
And so I step
And stepped I did
To stand as divided pole
I walked to feel
And feel I did, as I did once but cry
The shame the guilt the outright fit
That encroached upon my mind
As I stood amidst the traffic pit
I could but clearly see
The faded cover of my soul
Cracked and stained from hidden pain
That alluded even me
Is there yearning or acceptance?
Or just a cool exterior waiting to be touched?
To be warmed
To feel.
In this indefinite zone. this yellow line.
Self-inflicted or a product of time.
I'll explain my thoughts behind this at a later date, I'm starting to feel inhuman (no "e").
Bye Self! [sanity (?)]