truth can be addictive

belief system

Truth can be addictive

One thing; truth can be addictive
Meditate on; all your information
My conclusion; the trick is
True, false: answers from your spirits

Dis-information: plagues our world
Stop you: Graduating spiritually
Only too: Get you worried as hell
Keep you: in a low state vibrational

My guess: ninety five percent plus
Conspiracy theory's; totally made up
Who by? Brotherhood of the snake
Very dark: Driven by abject hate

The truth: just never gets aired
All swept: under a great big carpet
Comprises: Media propaganda
Built in: the truth can never get far

The two: big stories jeopardizing
Our health: never heard: unsurprising
BP spill: Nothing but illegal mining
China Syndrome : Fukishima rising

Dark around: Dark abounds
Boxing match: Like one of 15 rounds
Winning Dark: on points so far
Play catch-up: tortoise and hare

Dark cannot: stand any light
Not just now: At any time of day or night
The light: obeys all the rules of the game
Total respect: the dark not the same

This planet: quarantined for a while
(now lifted hooray)
The dark: don't care for the divine
But when: the light plays their ace
Insane poker: meek get a brighter place

In between: see aliens on the TV
One thing: they will not be friendly
And if: your government tells you
Aliens invading: wont be the truth

Some facts: 7.4 trillion planets
Human life : your cousins habit
Some of you: seeds from the stars too
Dark greys: with secret governments

Anyone who: Punts truth about the web
Manipulated; otherwise end up dead
Just look at: Milton William Cooper
EX Intelligence: killed by state troopers

He announced: three months before
9/11: false flag, he knew the score
Icke/Jones: still both have a pulse
I'm betting: much stuff is made up

Icke good: on his spiritual vibe
Some in formation: blatantly not right
Moon lives: I a m governed by it
Residents too: My friend Isis lives on it

The queen: no way a shape shifter
Bloodline; Descended from cain
Satan: might as well be
Satanic house of David: definitely

Lady Di: Th is is why she
Married : Charles and evil family
Spencers: descended from Stuarts
The true: bloodline heirs to our throne

George 1st: couldn't speak English
German royalty; Sa xe Coburg Gotha’s
Ev il; 5 in 6 villages in Germany
Nazi’s: massacred most definitely

Nazi’s: live till this very day
Blue blood: All of European royalty
Right under: your very nose
Hitler youth: Ratzinger pope

Empire , Roman, British American
God : don't like any of them
Not: Very meek at a ll you see
None: of them ever fought for peace

The times of Noah again : definitely
Watch it: If your god is money
Give your: life to serving Nazi's
Next world: you won’t be free

Author's Notes/Comments: 

written early 2012

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As My Blood Turns To Alcohol

I need to be drunk,
I need to feel pain,
but from it, what do I gain?
Nothing, I'm just slowly being slain.
And by my own hand,
my own fucking demand.

Just look at me, how I spend my day.
The second I hear the alarm clock,
I'm reaching for that bottle of bock.
Then throughout the day I grow more pale,
bottle after bottle, ale after ale.
Then every time the thought to stop comes about,
I drown my doubt in a bottle of stout.

And to think it all started as a test,
Now I cant live without the taste, the sweetness,
Is there such a thing as alcohol proof happiness?

In my mind I'm screaming,
Somebody stop me!
I need help!
Don't leave me for dead!
I don't even sleep at night, I just lie in bed,
because there's nothing louder in my head than these words I never said.

Now I have a prediction,
about the future of my addiction.
I'd like to say I'll recover some day,
But I've never been one for words of fiction.
Odds are I'll continue to cave,
Until I meet an early grave.
Is there any other way to live with this insatiable crave?

-The Fever

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"The Needle and the Spoon"

Dont tell me to leave it in the past,
When I was left here, without hope or chance,
If you only knew, is what they always say,
Self serving decisions, have always been your way,

With a head of nothing, memorized routines,
Watching as these robots, quietly encircle me,
Quick to point your fingers, with shame and discust,
Love thy brother as your own, In God is whom you trust,

Lay me down, take me from this place,
As I sit all alone, a man without a face,
Same old shit as before, Im still running threw,
Repititions have now set their ways,
The needle and the spoon,

Closing in, I can barely breathe,
Cannot hide, the enemy is me,
Rain or poison has recome my life,
Water logged I become a kite,

I am numb, cant feel no pain,
For a moment I am dry from the rain,
Then it comes to soak my skin,
Im right back to where it began,

So lay me down, take me from this place,
As I sit alone, a man without a face,
Same old shit, as was before, I still run threw,
Repititions have now set their ways,
The needle and the spoon.....

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Officially Addicted To You!

It’s official, I can’t live without you
I have realized, I can never let you go.
You have possessed me
Without you, I go restless, I go crazy.

I remember the first time you came to my life
It was a bitter sweet feeling, I really didn’t like.
But ever since, you were always near
From the moment I wake-up, you were always there.

You calm my nerves when I’m not cool
Without you, I look like a fool.
You always lift me up
When my day is so stressed out.

No matter what they say
That you are not good for me
And you will not be good for my heart
I promise you, we will never ever be apart.

I will always be there
I will never ever give you up
You are what I need
You and my big STARBUCKS CUP!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Yup! I'm addicted to coffee! :)

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Coming Into the Light

April is crying, she May be dying
The Junebugs chatter overhead while flying
She's alone and cold in the warm spring weather,
outwardly feigning holding it together

Flowers bloom as she withers away,
in the darkness on a sunny day
One day, a revelation
A fleeting glimpse of salvation

With all her might, clutching a candle
She begins to crawl, stumble, scramble
Reaching out, finding an extended hand,
she realizes she is able to stand

From then on every step is a thrill,
amazed at the power of her own will
The freezing darkness melts away
a little more each passing day

As she continues to learn, live, and grow
She can always be warm, even in December's snow.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

(Oct. '12) Finding my way out of addiction. Excited about recovery. :) Dedicated to all the people who love and support me.

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Her Highest

Occasional delays in our love, literally it takes me higher;
my white Cinderella, where can I find thee?-
You get around like a revolving door; A serious woman
with a kiss that numbs my mouth...

Selfish bitch! don't abuse her hospitality, she'll take away
all your qualities. Every whiff of her smell puts me in control
only for a moment, then I want her more...

It's snowing in the summer, with time her love will bring you
down like an avalanche. My white Cinderella spreads her love
like my girl Mary full time freak!

Seclusion from others, full attention to you, I lost it all...found
myself on the floor, it seems your love also give me blackouts,
when will I stop?

Is it my destiny have fallen in love with a woman that is dead?
That the only reflection I see is mine when I stare at her, as
I comb her hair until its thin and straight.

I'm in love with two women that are killing me quietly, softly
doing their damage. I know I should say no, but long
relationships are hard to let go...

They say love also kills, well let me be an example as I'm
spinning on this vertical joyride. Beauty that glows, dilating
my mind and eyes open wide...

Recently, I been participating in a threesome with these girls,
damn! they sure wear me out. Calling in, won't make it to work,
stamped and hung-over, don't bother getting up!

Should I stay away from the circle of friends that introduced me
to these hoes, these bitches don't care, they ride with everyone.
It's all mind control, situation is getting critical, if they hide, I find.

Cindy and Mary sitting on my face, f.u.c.k.i.n.g with my head, it
won't be long until I am found dead, probably from a heart failure,
yeah! a broken heart from a love overdose...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My bitches!!

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Love in Moderation

Spiritually I've been on a mission lately,
searching for my soul...
what I found was a mere image of what
my imagination perceives of me, in which,
at this point I accept the shadows that
linger with every step I take towards
what seemed to be the light before, now
its more of a blur; I stopped walking
towards the light, because I realized I've
gained night vision like an owl, as I walk
across the Cemetery of forgotten thoughts
and desires.
One desire has resurrected from a shallow
grave, I never really said, "Good-bye," to
her before she died.
Now we make love at the witching hour
every night; when the sun rises, to our
coffins we hide from the shame of our lust
and the morning light of day. This time, I'm
taking her love in moderation, one breathe
at a time!

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Her love is addicting...

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The Highway Blues

Volume Three

The Highway Blues

Found the right pill, the right combination
the cocktail to end all madness, and the peek is within reach.
All the sinners rejoice, it becomes the junkies choice.
Facing the devil in the darkness of our own hearts,
no choice but to see the evil in our own hearts
and we sing and dance, as we slowly fall from grace.

In the land of the lonely, those popular become kings.
Exiled into the minds of those insane, are those enslaved.
We are the fallen, the angels who lost their wings
gone mad with emotion, we trip to the flow of motion.
Found the right path, the right direction
the wicked kamikaze dive, for the finish line.

Passing strangers on this strange highway,
lulled into a false sense of being, if seeing could even be believing.
Constantly at war, constantly in struggle.
Even peace, could not bring comfort to your heart.
The world is at odds, seeing only shades of the full spectrum of the rainbow.
As you look everywhere but within to find yourself.
Constantly finding your path blocked, by your own creation.
We are ghosts living within an elaborate illusion.
Never obtaining anything of real substance,
hoarding priceless trash, that can give us a real physical rash
if picked, it bleeds, just as strong as our emotional needs
and here I go passing strangers once again on this highway.

Soul after soul passes by my window, trapped on this endless road

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Another little piece I just finished up (so again its a rough draft)
Some of you may realize this isint a typical style of writing for me, however not a stranger to it. I wanted to do a more abstract piece, I've always considered myself decent at these types of poetry but never my strong suit.... So what do you think?

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Pill Head Junkie

Volume Three

Pill Head Junkie


Pump it straight up the vein, it becomes the shock that keeps you sane.
Always left picking up the pieces, of this shattered existence
and it becomes my bittersweet addiction, this wicked affliction.
An overdose is in the prediction, That will ultimately leave me in perdition.


It is the opiate blues, the withdrawal dues, stringing up my own noose.
My soul has already bled, and in this temple your god is dead.
I run for that ledge, in overdrive reaching for the edge
yet here is a dirty secret I harbor and must confess.


“In my mind I create and I destroy.
Entire worlds will fall to ash,
yet the truth is clear for I am just a boy.
Who could not even manage to stay in class.”


Watch the life fade from my eyes, like the caged lion who slowly dies.
I have lost my passion, gave up all hope and let this life kick me down,
while told not to make even the slightest sound. I want to defiantly stand,
however I can no longer feel the ground.


“Did I fry my brain while trying to stay sane.
In your game of madness to win you must sin
and I've had the chance to look around,
I just want to burn the bitch to the ground.”


Paging Dr. Frankenstein. Smart as an undead Einstein.
Looking sharp in his white lab coat, preying on the ignorant goat.
Dispensing a rainbow pill platter and at this party I am the mad hatter.
There was once a pill head junkie, a regular highschool flunky.


I have tried going sober, as my peace rests on a cold shoulder.
No longer do I care, that karma is a bitch and life is just not fair.
Stumbling into madness, welcome to my hell.
It is the chaos, with your own cell.


The saddest story of them all; A poet who has missed his call.
Potential lost when you choose to fall, running for that wall.
My biggest regret would be to not wager this bet,
for I am holding aces, and do not play favorites.


I hate the way you make me feel, a suicide run with a mentality to kill
I hate this ecstasy in which I bathe, the opiates coursing in my veins; that which I crave
It is the scent of the depraved, the twisted and the insane
and I can sniff it out a mile away.


I know the trickery being whispered into my ear,
that the reaper stands before me, and I should feel fear.


“There was once a pill head junkie,
a dropout, dead head; flunky.
It was what the world thought of him to be,
So that was all he wanted them to see.”


I hate the way you hold me back,
on the hunt, you are my prey and I will attack.
I hold no reservations when you are all about distractions.
Sarcasm is my low blow, as your reaction becomes my free show.
In all my rage, I could claim self medication.
Locked in my cage, It's for your own self preservation.

So make you assumptions, your accusations, and take your observations.
For it is your own obsessions, that has turned this into such a tragedy
and for that you will always fail in your quest for beauty.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

[Edited - Cleaned up messy Codeing]


This was a hard one to write, took me over 3 weeks to find the right words to put this one together... It touches on a very sensitive topic for me, I hope those who read it enjoy the write.... I myself have mixed feelings about this, perhaps writting is no longer helping me as much as I need... Anyway as always comments are apprichiated!!

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