continuation

this is nothing,
that is nothing.

but at the same time,
they're everything.

we are all everything.

warmth

I want to wrap my arms around the entire world.

this is happening for a reason,
that is happening for a reason.

I'm spinning in circles with my arms wide open.

conspiracy

why is reality a theory?
they want you think otherwise.

I don't know

pieces. broken, little pieces are all I have here. what do you have? don’t you see? you have so much more. this shouldn’t be, this isn’t fair, but nothing is fair. fair isn’t fair. unfair is fair. fair doesn’t exist. but I am still here. stuck with broken pieces. I want more. I’m stubborn. stubborn, but impatient. and this mix is really starting to frustrate me.

control

i said,
but deep down,
i feel.

"erase erase erase erase erase erase.
get out get out get out get out get out.
please, it's too much."

stuck. they're stuck. it's stuck.

deep down.

and the only way I'll rid myself of this
is by finding you somewhere else.

scent

when it appears, i'm there again;
it's yours, it's you.

but it always disappears as quickly as it enters,
and I'm left

with an intangible memory.

incorrect roles

lately, her supposed words of wisdom are never anything I don't already know. but I listen anyway so she feels like she's doing her part.

4:30 PM--Tuesday Evening

The campus bluffs. Second bench from the right. Familiarity. View of three tall trees and the city of Los Angeles: cars, freeways, homes, office buildings, stores, mountains, sky. Slight breeze. Birds chirping, cars speeding. I've been sitting here a while now. I needed to get away from the dysfunction. To just be. I missed this spot. It's so beautiful.

Sitting in silence makes you realize how everything is moving--constantly moving--around us. Be it the grassy weeds rustling in the wind, birds chirping as they soar together (or hide in their nests), a fly buzzing past your ear, shadows dancing across the rocky pebbles and dirty sand; the smallest things are living. Right now, it is so apparent: though we may not always notice, there is life in everything. We are simply highly-evolved animals and part of this vast, infinite universe...no more than those birds in the sky or even those ants on the ground. When you really sit down in complete stillness, when you allow yourself to empty your mind of thoughts (the pain...that loneliness), it becomes so clear.

Why must we torture ourselves? Why do we allow ourselves to give in to this rigid culture? Why are we going through the motions? Why do we think we are everything, that this is everything? There is so much more than this "life;" there is so much more than what we see. I wish everyone could experience that stillness of being. Here. Now.

This moment is all we have, all we'll ever have.

infliction

Contrary to what you may tell yourself,
I am in the middle--always have been, always will be.

Your anger seeps deep into my bones as if it were my own, but I'll never feel it myself. I continue to see only clarity: there may be two sides to every story, but neither are right.

Contrary to what you may tell yourself,
the truth is a myth.

unfeeling: to be true

i'm here. i was there. i'm here. why? why not? why couldn't you? why was i there? why am i here? i'm here, i know. i know it. do you? was it all in my head? none of that was okay. this is not okay. i learned. i am learning. oh, i am learning. i care. i'm sorry. i wish it could help. i wish i could. i want you to know, to really know.