He was a loner who always sat down contemplating fantastical adventures that occurred on the pages of a comic book
He compares that to his life and scoffs at the contrast compared to his own
Feeling that his existence is some sort of punchline and whenever he reads a comic and realizes the dualism is the hook
Admiring the strength of the heroes on the page and then realizing his own weakness often led to him expressing his rage
He idolizes them and tries to emulate their heroic accomplishments
He is an optimist but not one who has grandiose dreams and narcissism is a term that could never be applied to him
He believes that a good deed no matter how small was significant because he couldn't fly, knew better than to contaminate himself with anything vaguely radioactive and his mental faculties are not up to par with Peter Parker and far less than mr fantastic or Bruce Banner
He believed that no matter the insignificance of a good deed still had some worth and is quantifiable irrespective of what it accomplished
He believes a smile or a "thank you" from one person holds the same worth as recognition his idols receives
He tried to associate with some of his peers and most either looked down on him for his simplistic and "childish" outlook on the world and his antiquated sense of morality
He accepted their criticism on what he loves without any response to provocation or anger because that is what his idols would do and instead channels it. He channels it not into rage and resentment but into focus and determination
He knows that in all probability he would not reap rewards for what he does or believes in and the motives for peoples actions and behaviours would not Change solely due to his actions
He knows that his antagonizers would not receive their comeuppance in the foreseeable future but still he preservers
Some may wonder what his motivations are and why he tries to be unbreakable despite all the interconnected cracks that decorate his souls and provide stories without words for all the abuse he has endured
He doesn't give up because that's not what the Black Panther would do, Nightwing would never give up and Barry Allen would not give up in the face of insurmountable odds
There are periods when his heroes are beaten to the ground and are drained both physically and emotionally and they never succumb to the futility of their actions nor do they crumble under the weight if the trials and tribulations they face
So neither will he
Sometimes he imagines that he too is the product of the imagination of someone who puts their life and struggles on paper and if there is any semblance of truth in that
He believes that he should be a realistic role model for any readers who may be struggling like he is
He’s with me all the time,
We’re practically best friends.
He’s there for me the hard times the most.
He’s the worst friend I’ve ever had,
I regret the moments I introduced him to my life.
He taunts me, provokes me, pushes me,
He ruins me.
He turns me, frustrates me, rushes me,
He makes me.
I struggle to get him out of my life,
But he only gets closer.
I try to block him out,
But he only gets darker.
I hate him. But he loves me.
I wish him out of my life with the little passion he’s left me with,
But he remains around me,
As if his sadistic job was to torture me through this period of my life,
I loath him for this resulting strife.
I’m told one day he’ll die,
And rather than suffering in perpetuation,
I will caese the constant struggle towards evasion,
But his ghost may haunt my internal abrasions,
I wish his death would hasten…
I know he’ll die eventually.
Being left with his sporadic memories.
At night, I stumble from my car to the house
Stumbling, tripping, shuffling my feet
I’m not drunk. It’s not dark
I’m starkly sober and it is bright
I’m looking up. Who could look elsewhere?
The source of the brightness in the night
The sea that we swim in
The galaxy opens up and swallows me
I want to be nowhere else
And yet I’m already there
We all are
Spaceship earth, interstellar travel to nowhere in a seemingly endless orbit
Cycling a star that will one day consume us
All of that space, all of that wondrous possibility
My mind aches just thinking of it
I cannot comprehend although I try
Awe and loneliness
Could it really be only us?
I feel cheated and so should you
Our deaths will rob us of the answer
To the only question that truly matters
-
Could it really be only us?
I really do want to believe it's all here,
That it's real, and that it is as great as everyone thinks it is,
Strong and indestructable,
Powerful with meaning and substance,
So that I too, exist here, but why?
These objects made of wood, steel and concrete, glass and fibers,
Clawing an scratching at my spirit day and night,
Begging for my touch to make them real,
And walls, walls, walls, that separate,
Real as this figment of my own imagination
Who I call myself, the existential being I believe I am,
The objects speak in tongues,
And languages unheard of
But understood with senses forbidden
And cast away from what man has deemed to be 'real',
And objects, material objects, jumping out at me,
Talking teapots, spoons and candlesticks,
From stories out of the depths of another's inner world,
Jumping into my world! How dare they come without knocking!
What is it they want? What are they asking?
"We are here just like you", they said,
"Why do you want to be here?"
So I replied, "Why do I want? Maybe I should just be!"
And so from then on I began to just be.
In case I should ever again need a shrink,
I shall first consult the kitchen sink.
4:21 AM 4/18/2013 ©
since infancy my destruction began
questioning God, have i been bad?
the love i give never returns to me
the lines we crossed could not be seen
even in crowds i feel so alone
cuz all my life i've been on my own
i've never known anyone i can trust
friends i've made punched me in the gut
the only time i had a family
they made it clear they never wanted me
my tainted heart beats through the cold
this inconsistancy is growing old
exactly what point did God give up on me
i'm not like Him cuz i still believe
I wished I could go to Easter Island
to see the top-hatted statues stare
until I read somewhere
pirates stole slaves from there
I wished I could go to Tibet
spinning prayer wheels in town square
until I learned their prayers
went nowhere
I wished I could go to Las Vegas
rent a room at any cost
until I learned my fate would change
with all the money I lost
I wished I could work in a hospital
patients were cared for there
until I read the money ran out
and the bosses lied without care
I wished I could go to India
to see the Taj Mahal
until I learned that love
was not fair at all
this misdirected moment
let's the confusion set in
some truth filters through
as clarification begins.
some sort of choice
will eventually surface
but you're too clueless
to understand real acceptance.
why do you worry so?
i can take care of myself.
there's no guilt in my actions,
at least nothing to tell.
it's time to give into the idea
that i don't really need you.
i've made it this long
on what i've learned to be true.
my knowledge gained thus far
hasn't been handed to me.
i've earned each of these scars
from lessons forced upon me.
why do i feel so alone
on a planet swarming with insects
eating away the evidence
of a world that should've existed.
allowing ghosts of the past
to suffocate any hope of the future,
ripping away at the spirit,
misleading the mindless and unsure,
promising castles of gold in the clouds
for the blind and faithful to follow
or damnation in a flaming eternity,
leaders caught in the shadows and swallowed,
enveloping any orignial ideas
in desparation and fear,
choking away the messages
meant for the meek ones to hear.
the path is laid before me
offering directions of the lost
of the travelers who've come before me
and all the souls that it cost
while all along the sides
rests undiscovered land
waiting for a rebellious soul
to create a virgin path.
never step in someone else's prints.
don't do as the others do.
be not afraid to know yourself
to learn the truth about you.
don't be so quick to fall in line
since the end is always the same.
seek the answers and question everything.
don't be catagorized by your name.
your ancestors got it all wrong.
did they pass on anything real?
the next generation is even further
from knowing exactly what to feel.
over the last hundred years
all human connection has faded,
Love is not as simple as life
Breathing is natural
Heartache should not be
Connections lost by dusk
And by dawn there is no memory
A night of contentment and deception
A time to be forgotten
tear down these walls
and hope for the new day
Carry on dwelling and remember nothing
I don't care what you have to say
I don't need to know what you think of me
I like who I am, and I know where I should be
2008 brushes by leaving dabs smeared with crys..
Dragging into the next leaves deeper falls of greater importance,
A person left with a head full of memories,
And the things in between lye there waiting to be clinged,
These choices all around..you hear em..they make sound,
But is it real? is it true?
Hurry they're waiting! waiting for you,
I don't want to go, can I stay here lost,
I would love some time to ponder,
Distant eyes filled of lies,
The difference between nonscence and reality,
Just a tad bit more complicated than it seems,
Simple things in life mean more,
Little attractions bring bigger reactions,
I feel empty but I look whole,
Maybe some day I'll truly know,
Looking Looking Looking..
But seeing isnt believing,
Free me, Free me,
I would want it so badly if faces wouldnt look at me so madly