dare you to blog... like today never happened...

so many thoughts rushing past and blinding..thrilling...

a light turns on in my head, followed by others. like ***** I suddenly see what i have been blinded to.

the truth frustrates me a little, due to its relative nature. It looks one way from this side, and on the other completely different.

I feel like a new born, kicking and screaming...

cause you've seen too much, too young... soulless is...


If i look deep enough and dark enough do i simply find a broken jar? or do i find little blue gel crystals forming and coating, filling the gaps and making more of me than i could ever be. These industrius nanobots, constructed someplace else do find fit to reconstruct and deconstruct me.

they've found pieces i didn't remember, pieces from long ago. Like sand crystals washed from continent to continent. Also there is a distant roar.

you don't know when the end is, but its coming fast...
a roar like an ocean, but also like a lion. Now we hear only the premonition; the image of things to come. But soon we will know and we will know in completeness. For this is merely the beginning

I can't let them win

cold. echo. selective or remote.
incapacitated.
solitude or sanctity
silence or noise.

blinding light

sometimes i think about a drill in my head. the warm melting me away.
boring a deep hole into the depths of my imagination and rescuing me from this symphony of destruction.

i feel a warmth on my hands, rising and flowing...

its like a river, a river of sadness, but also of glory. Not a glory of my own, but a gift.

and you, you touch my life...

wash me in blood and let me be...

take all of me, my desires that keep burning deep inside...

there's not a part of me that belongs here... i dont belong here...
there's not a part of me thats settled with the way I am.
I still dig deeper and want more and cherish time spent in deep pools of consciousness.

sometimes a note speaks more than words. sometimes i feel like my only friend...
but i can't sleep...

Truth is a manipulation that i can't afford to follow. for the rules he makes and the rules he breaks assuming i can swallow, for i have tripped a thousand miles just to see your touch
and i should not lose hope again until i've seen as much.

that is... assuming theres someone there...

is there anybody out there?

...my wheels in constant motion...

for if i should live a hundred years to feel this way again
there should at least be someone else to accept this sense of blame.
for enough of silent snuff has left its mark of shame
and i should be content to be as much as I can be.

the cat likes my beard.

such a tender moment. sitting silently, gazing at you. i look into your eyes.
and watch, wait, i'm still expecting you to attack, but instead there is imitation. constructs..

is there anybody in there?

i don't know what i see, but i know that i want to see, want to know... want to...

theres a story about a boy chasing a girl who follows her to the cliff face and jumps after you, for if only he could grab her before her death it would be enough.

sorry, thats not me.

but it could be someone else.

could it be you.

where are you?

what do you make of this?

what happened when you look back, and just watch.
do you like what you see or are you frightened,..,., why?

what could scare you. what could frighten you so much.
where is your limit and can i take you there.

theres sometime poetic and redemptive about having a gun pointed at your head.
it shows you where you are in the world, and how much you care and about whom.

I remember sitting there, hands rubbing against the tightly bound rope, around my wrists were already raw, flesh stinging in the muggy air. my mouth had been closed, temporarily. Even so i had nothing to say, for people must do what they must do, and I can simply sit there and gaze into their eyes.

***** held the gun at me, and let it slide across my face. the cold sharp sensation of wet steel carving a memory into my cheek. then it move up to my forehead and stayed there, daring me to move, daring me to move.....

then they did sometime quite unexpected. The gun was pulled away, it feel sharply to their side as if the power had vanished from their limbs. It then clanged heavily to the ground. My captor's strength fading until finally they fell too; a righteous thump as they lay there staring back at me whispering ' i am nothing '.

the cords which had bound me so tightly loosened themselves and draped over the chair. I arose and looked for the exit, running and running.... running and running.







































Then i stop and turn to see myself, lying there, blood oozing and pouring from quarters of my temple. I return to my body and pick it up, pulling it too myself and gently rubbing its shoulder whispering... 'be the one to carry you, when you can walk no further...'






ode to the truth that lies deep inside and yet above on high.