At The End Of The Day

Thinking back on everything, I realize I've had a lot of opportunities for short-term self gain at the expense of what I felt was right.

But you know, regardless of what you do, at the end of the day, it's just you and your pillow at night.

Now, a lot of people might be able to sleep off any such deviations of right.

But I can't.

When the world is asleep and all the faces I know have disappeared, it's just me there.

Just me.

And all the things they say, and all the standards their culture forwards, and all the expectations brought on by other souls become all but quiet echoes from a past memory. 

I lie there.  And it's just me.

And I wonder:

Do I like who I am?

3...2...1...

 Go.

I've been thinking for days
About what I'm missing
These pages are blank
Chapters unwritten

I've been asking myself
Where are my friends?
Who are these characters
That all just pretend?

Am I insane?
Has the world gone all wrong?
Where are the high notes
In this gloomy song?

I've been thinking for days
And I'm reminiscing
Jotting down reasons
Quote by quote listing

Reasons to fly
Far from this place
Away from this town
Leaving no trace

I've been searching for months
For a single reason
To stay in a life
Where I'm hardly breathing

But honestly,
It's getting harder
I'm not sure how long
Or if I can go much farther

I can't tell you how much
That I fucking wish
That this pain would end
But to get over it

I'll need to find
A person or place
A thing or a sign
A word or a face
 
Give me a reason
Give me an answer
Give me a chance
To avoid this disaster

......

Time's up.

Insomnia

Done.

Now let's put this phase in the backburner. 

A Failing Fantasy.

Life feels so hopeless sometimes.

Maybe Shakespeare was right when he said that expectation is heartache's main cause. 

It's so damn true.

Damn Shakespeare.  Why don't you come back?

You could teach me a thing or two...

I find myself in instance
Of dawning livid guilt
Thinking ruined acronyms
My conscience leans to tilt

But I cannot go through any lengths
To satisfy these needs
For what would happen if they find
The trail from which they bleed?

I pray to God
I think it through
What I just might wish

If I asked the devil
For all his angels
With only morals at my risk

But then I have and may have gotten
A little more than I need
For I have felt sore and duly rotten
From smoking his black weeds

Shit......

And now I've got the chills.
My world has gotten colder.
 "...What happened to the old Will?"
"I'm afraid that he got older." 

Color Codes Control me.

Again, I find that I'm half-in-love with an image.

She's nice, too.

Maybe a little strange and immature--but she's a nice person. 


Love?  Infatuation?  Crush?

The terminology hardly makes a difference.  My heart jumps higher just to think about her! 


Call me shallow, stupid, or a hopeless romantic--whatever you want to call it.  I really don't care anymore.  I just know what I feel.  And though my logic tells me what I feel is an illusion--propagated by culturally-standardized pixels that forward artificial beauty--...I cannot deny that it brings me joy all the same.  And this joy does conjure passion. 

And I will lovingly write, draw, sing, play, or compose about it.

So why care for the reality of the situation?  

Why care for the person, the place, and the possibility?
Why care for the intrinsic motives and attraction-based chemicals that take place inside a human being when they feel they "fancy" another human being? 

These phases are so fleeting to me. 

But they are the only times in my life where I feel I can create works more meaningful than any theorem, mechanical, or logically driven insight or form of art.

And, as always, I find that I love people less--

than the idea itself. 

My Heart Swells

My mouth is dry, my stomach growls, my lids droop, my face is numb, my body aches, my limbs are sleeping.

But my heart swells.

And my brain is thinking:

God, I fucking love what I do.  

The music video is coming along.

It's not perfect.

But I've learned more valuable things doing than thinking could have ever led me. 

Truly;

I regret every bad thing I've ever said about you.

I regret every snide remark I've ever made about you.

I regret thinking you less for what you could be, simply because of my arrogance.

And it appears that my wrong turn has taken me to such a depthless darkness, that the light now becomes truly apparent.