Old Soul

He is an old soul, once driven simply by the desire to create. Once alive simply for the creativity, for the ease and simplicity of creating, but now, he is dead.
In the dim light, covered in a thick blanket of dust and all things old he is seated, a large oak desk stained from lack of light, coated in dust sits in front of him. Directly in the center is an old typewriter, stained old paper in the ring, a ream of just as ancient paper in a neat file sitting next to it.
His final resting place for hundreds of days and nights, he sits, back slightly hunched, forearms resting barely on the desk hands positioned over the typewriter keys unmoving. His body, though not dead, is not alive, his hands once great conductors, magicians of creation, are shriveled, dead and useless for an unknown time they rest.
His body, though unalive does not suffer the same fate as his hands, for they were the instruments, the creators of stories of tales of things unknown. It sleeps, unmoving, slowly and steadily growing older, it needs no nourishment, it is alive but dead.
But now, in the dead of the night, it happens, the fingers unmoved for decades twitch, they curl, the bones and joints creaking from lack of use move.
In a Blur they come alive, atrophy forgotten, and go to work, creativity flowing, powering them as they move effortlessly across the keys, they dance along leaving just a click of the keys behind, as they begin their newest story.

What Scares Me Most

the things that scare me most, are not your typical fears. they are not the boogey man, or that one house down the street, they are not spiders, or snakes, heights or rain.
What scares me most, is when i close my eyes, your voice rings through my ears, i open them, and you are not there.
what i fear most you could not possibly understand, if i sat, and talked, and described to you what happens when my eyes close, you could not understand, you would not understand, it is a nightmare in intself.
what scares me most, are the memories i have, not the sweet ones i look to when i see something that reminds me, but the foul ones, the ones that i dare not speak aloud, for even writing them brings a cold sweat to my forhead.
what truly terrorizes me the most, is when i remember how nonchalantly you told me the things i did not want to hear, how you so easily described the things you did, and how it seemd to have no effect, when inside my soul was being ripped to shreds.
What i fear, is not knowing what is going on, not following your life, not knowing if you are in need of the help you are to proud to ask me for.
What i fear, are the things you did, the ways you did them, and the fact that i once was sure beyond a doubt, with every fiber of my being that you would never do those things but now i am not.
What terrorizes my body when my eyes close, are things that should not be there, things that time should have stolen away.
when i close my eyes my nightmare begins, although i rarely sleep, my body has found a way to betray me, it does not need the sleep it once did, closing my eyes is sufficient for the nightmares to consume my ever thought.
What scares me most, is that you still visit me, you flaunt these things in my face and every nightmare i have seems to remind me that i am not yours anymore.
That, is what scares me most.

Love and Hate

In Love.
Each blink of the eye records the moments which matter most, each breath brings reason to move throughout the day, reason to see that source of love. Each moment is cherished and seen with new eyes, each word is saved in the mind. A special bond between the heart exists, and that person, the one you see differently then the others, makes that love possible.That person is everything, that person is air, and food, and life, and that person is never forgotten.

In Hate.
The soul turns a different color, a nasty vile creature is what it becomes. It shames itself with impure thoughts, thoughts of death, and murder, regrets. It feeds on the emotions those fear, it kills and maims, it does not please. For those weak enough, it consumes, fueling a journey of weak and sad things, of horrible and disgusting decisions, insecurities and imperfections.

In Life.
Both exist.

The Funny Things.

How much longer will we play this game?

to go on with our lives like nothing has changed, is to accept defeat and begin to cope with it. But how then, can i not accept defeat? death? perhaps a sweet shallow quick fix? a quick solution to the problem? but in death there is no life, so how can i live if i decide that one day there might be hope.

Do i give in and accept defeat? a strategy i set into motion so that one day things may be as they once where? or do i realize that through my hopes and wishes i must see that things can never be, so death? or life with defeat?

regrets? or be free?

but can i really choose the latter? can i simply say i will be free, and be free? can saying the words outloud take from inside the regrets i hold already? will i be free simply because i want it badly enough? no.

though i can paint, and have become very good at telling stories, i can create my outer, because my inner is nothing, i can paint a picture to match your expectations, and weave a tale so thick, disbelief does not exist when the words lay upon your ears.

but happiness is not approachable, only imitable, it is not truly living to live with defeat, it's merely acting, a fine performance it shall be.

Her

She laughs. She listens and she watches,and she drinks and she drives. She cries.
she does the things she thinks will make her seem alive.She lies.

She laughs only when they do, and listenes not to them, but to herself, she watches the others, in their fluid unappealing manners, she drinks to alleviate the pain, she drives in hopes tonight is the night.

She lives. But she is dead, a walkin nothingness consumes her, she hides.

She realizes, perhaps a little to late, that life in it's grandest mysteries is often times considered great.

through pain painstakingly beautiful eyes she watches, she does what she assumes is expected, she lives.But she is dead.

When the pain comes, she allows it swallow her essence, to rip apart the very fibers of her heart, to shred the very threads of her mind, she wishes for closure, for acceptance, for recognition, it does not come.

She is no more than a droid, life is but a game, one she has mastered, she knows it's rules and abides them, she knows its boundries and does not test them.

She Lives. But She Is Dead.

5/21/09 - Rain

They all say it's dangerous, no doubt it is.
That even then, with all the thunder and lighting, i cant help but sit in the big couch at the front of the house, staring directly into the street.

it's raining, hard.

and even though they say the big tall trees that loom in front of the drive way, as if protecting the house from all danger, will be the first to know the sting of the lightning, i cant help but wonder, and think to myself, statistics cant always be right.

It's a storm outside, wind,and rain, and thunder, and of course ligthning. thought it is majestic, and hold a beauty of its own, i know what hides within it, past the blue and white dazzle of it's treacherous mask, danger.

They tell me it's dangerous, but i cant help feeling the need to stand, and slip outside, slowly and very sneaky like a fox, to take my chances standing in the middle of the street, where no tall trees can shield my body, where the powerful wind can whip the tiny drops of rain into me, and where thunder can boom at me from high above, as if warning that it brings danger with it's loud beastly roar.
Take my chances i think, with the powerful lightning, fast and deadly, majestic and beautiful in it's own way, and breathtakingly dangerous. i cant help but wonder what it would feel like, if perhaps on accident i were to find myself a little lost tonight, i wonder if i would feel the pain. if i would remember my deepest darkest thoughts, and feel once more before my heart exploded in my chest, a great and beautiful love.

They tell me the wind, and rain, and thunder, and most of all the lightning are dangerous, but i find the wondering most dangerous of all.

5/16/09 - I've Finally Realized

Im in love with her, but it is not you, though it may look like you on the outside, by all means resemble you on the outside, physically of course it is you, but I don't love you, my love is for her. I never realized how it was staring me in the face, they say people change, I've never believed that, but you once told me so yourself, you said that you've changed, and I turned a blind eye to it.
I see now that I was wrong and you, like so many other times were right, it is not you I love, not this person you have become, this thing you call yourself,this imposter. It was her, indeed you are as beautiful, physically, if not more, but the things I loved of you are gone now, lost or perhaps hidden deep inside, but love to me was not the physicalality of you, it was what you were made of, your beliefs, your values, your inner child, your innocence, and that,you have seen to it, was destroyed.
Its like a million pound weight has been lifted from within me, I finally realize the things one fights for when in love, only become clear with time. It was then that I would have given my life for you, though I dare say that is still so, it was then that anything you wished for would have been yours, though you would have fought me no doubt against it, it was then that you loved me equally if not more than I did you.

So I realize now, it was then that you will live in my head and my heart, it was then that you were the most precious thing I have ever known, and will ever know, it was then that I chose to love you forever, and although we have gone our separate ways, it is then that you live on for me, but it is now, that I feel I must tell you, I hate what you've become.

5/16/09 - She is The One

She is the one
The one who hides from her past
The one who puts on her facade each and every morning
The worlds best actress.
She lives her life as if her past didn't happen, she smiles when things hurt, and laughs when she feels like crying, she is sad inside, but doesn't show it. She is the one who goes through her day, thinking about her past, and the stupid choices she made. She goes on living, if it can be called that, happy on the outside, dying on the inside. She is the one who answers no when someone asks if she's ever been in love. Her days are happy and cheerful, noone is the wiser.
Her nights however, are dreadful, she dreams the past she hides so well, memories she tries to forget, not because of the pain, but because she feels the need to punish herself. She cries most nights, until she falls asleep, slow sad tears stream her face, she hides it well, making no noise, but inside she is screaming. And on those days, when she answers no, her dreams are the worst, his face fills her mind, his voice fills her ears, and their memories become hers again.
She is the one
The one that loves no more.

5/15/09 - Love Me?

On nights like this, when I get home late, exhausted, and weary, nothing pleases me more than to find you asleep in our bed. No matter how tired I am, I can't help to lay next to you, and watch you sleep for a few minutes, the relaxed look on your face, the faint smell of your perfume, puts me to sleep with a smile on my face, and only one question in my mind, will you still love me tomorrow?

On days like this, when the sky is dark, the clouds are gray, and the sun shines bright, it makes me wonder if god can't make up his mind. A gentle peaceful view, as if he cannot decide on sun or rain, and in those clouds, surrounded by the brightest sunlight, I see your face, as if god is sure of one thing, the sun shines bright, It brings a smile to my face and I know today will be a good day.but I hope that maybe you'll still love me tomorrow?

5/7/09 - Everything Is Changing

My world is changing, and not for the better. The things I once knew are gone, people, friends, family, everything isn't how it used to be. I look around and don't recognize anything the same, I fear for the future. People I once cared about are becoming filth, decisions made in the spur of the moment are affecting their lives. People I used to love o hardly recognize anymore, people I despised give me more reason to. Did I make a bad decision? Why can't I seem to be where I want?

5/4/09 - Her Book

When she got tired of all the bad things, of all the nights spent awake crying in bed, remembering the bad relationships she's had so many of, the endless days spent doubting good things, she laid on her floor with a book in her hand.

A book she'd started a long time ago when things were decent and she had hope for herself. A long time had passed since then and page after page was filled with names and numbers, each bringing back memories she'd rather forget, faces she'd long hoped not to see again, and pain from mistakes she'd unintentionally made. After what seemed like many hours passed by, time spent feeling down, saddened by the many bad relationships she'd put herself through, she stumbled, quite accidently, upon a single piece of folded yellow paper nudged in between two pages. This opened to reveal yet another name and number, this particular name and number however was very different from the rest, in that she felt saddened by this memory only because it was perhaps the only one of all that made her sad because she had let him go, he had been the one good memory of the bunch

5/1/09 - What If?

What if I cried? Where would you be with your words of comfort? What if I cut myself? Where would your gentle hands be to fix me up? What if I killed myself? Would you even care? Would you maybe shed a tear or would you just think it a shame and feel nothing else. What if I sleep, and wake up with nothing on my mind, not even you. Would you wonder where you want? And why you don't dominate my thoughts again? What if I asked you once more, to tell me you care? What if you didn't? What if I moved away without a word and never spoke to you again? Would you lie awake at night wondering where I was, and if you might be on my mind? What if you didn't care? Would I need to exist anymore? What if I felt alone? And turned to you and you weren't there? What if I still loved you? What if .........

4/26/09 - If Death

If death came for me tonight, on black winged horses of death, I would surely welcome him.
I would bow my head in his presence, and allow my soul to be takin.
If death came for me tonight, I would ask not to be chained with rusted spiked chains of torment, but follow of my own accord, slowly and with no doubt in my mind.
If death came for me tonight, I would myself clamber into his carriage of lost souls, to be takin away with no fight or commotion, I would merely seat myself at his side ready and willing.
If death came for me tonight, I would ask only one favor, to allow me one moment in time which I could erase, in exchange I would willingly endure the pain I am promised.
If death came for me tonight, I would not fear his hooded black figure, nor would I run and cower, I would tell him only this, a lovers hell is within, to love is to be tormented.
If death came for me tonight, I would smile and be thankful to no longer have to bare being toyed with by your foulness.
If death came for me tonight, I would be ready

4/26/09 - Forlorn

Up until yesterday there was hope, some faint inclination in my mind that said even though this "break" is on, that we'll still end up together. Its not the first time, that this particular brand of hope has flowed through my veins, nor is it the first time I've given up on it.
Because the things my eyes casually stumbled over yesterday morning were enough to rid me of the small amount of hope I had left, enough to strip me of any feelings I have left for you.
It is with great regret that I am writing this, because I find as I spill more and more of it into a physical state, I condemn myself to reality, I ensure that the thing I fear most is coming true.
I had all the hope in the world for us, but because of you all that's left is doubt

4/26/09 - Empty Inside

Lately I feel cold inside, even on days when the sun is up and shining bright. I feel like I've lost my motivation, school doesn't seem important, its distant, like a dream or a memory im having a hard time remembering. I wonder if it will come back, my will to live, because honestly life's dull without it.
I've been thinking of school, it doesn't seem important, its as if I don't want it, it's gotten confusing and I find myself thinking is this something I really want to do with my life? Then I tell myself to think of all the time and money I've already put into it, and how much of a waste it 0would be to just stop going.
Im not social, but that's nothing new, people interest me,but I think id rather watch than interact, close friends dissappear, again nothing new. I think perhaps a new life is something im looking for, but let's face it, that's not happening anytime soon.
I think of love and hate, and how much they go hand in hand, I feel I've lost my love, like the sense to love has disappeared from her, but im scared that if I try and fight for it back, I may instead be fighting to push it away instead. Why is it that the one thing you want the most of you must have the least of? Why is it that if you can't except that little bit then you can't have any at all? The things that matter the most to me in life aren't clear right now, I know what I want, but there's a difference between the things one wants, and the things one needs, I wish I could have a moment of clarity, I wish I could just understand

4/26/09 - A Dream

Last night I went for a walk
It was late and the weather seemed to be reflecting my emotions, as there was a terrible storm in the air.
As I've done many times before I left the house for my walk with no cover, no shield against the weather, I allowed the stormy rain and winds to beat upon me in all direction, lost in my own thoughts.
It was then that I happened upon an empty parking lot, or so I thought at first glance.
Strolling through I realized that of the few cars calling this empty lot home there was one alone that stood apart from them all,the lights were on.
At a distance I could make nothing of the scene, but upon approach I noticed two females inside, apparently alone.
Perhaps they needed help I do not know, but that is the assumption I made as I stealthily made my way closer.
But I was not alone on this night, as a cloaked figure reached my destination before I could.
Although still at a distance, I could see it was a man of fairly muscular build, poking his head through the window to ask for a moment of their time.
At once he thrust his hand into the cracked window and proceeded to claw at the women furtively.
I was there quickly, my hands grasping his coat firmly I tossed him to the side as the women came from within the car.
Upon his hunched figure I leaped, fury in my heart at the scum that would take advantage of these women.
I stood him and with furious fists began to cut down this late night attacker, from behind a kick I landed, my hands pushing him away as he began to realize this fight had purpose.
Into his open jaw I thrust my hands, prying one in each direction as if to open his roar wider, I used all my force, while yelling at the small women at my side to call the police.
With a thrust I spun him around and into a nearby tree, upon which he shattered to my amazement like a porcelain doll.
Staring at the only reminants, his cloak and hood, I turned to stare upon the would be victims of his vicious attack.
I was met by a beautiful woman, now soaked, who embraced me in a longing manner, and repeated her thanks upon me, her so entitled savior.
Even with the pelting rain and wind I could make out her lips, and I found myself longing to embrace this strange woman in what I was sure would be a kiss the likes of which I had never felt.
Instead however, she looked me directly in the eyes and smiled, a beautifully stunning awe inspiring smile, and with that I woke up from my dream.0

4/26/09 - Tell Me

Sometimes I wonder
Do I despise u? Do I make you uncomfortable? Is it something about the way iam that repulses you so?
And do not try to act otherwise, I see it in the way you are, in the very essence of your being, from the way you walk to the way you laugh, it is apparent to me that something is being held back.
But if that's true why is it that you cannot simply say "leave me alone", is it really that difficult to say how you really feel? Instead each time im around your voice changes, your attitude becomes dark, your eyes twinkle with hate, or disgust, or some other emotion that does not agree with me.
Why do you talk that way? Why is there such feeling into the way you act when im there, when I speak and move, and walk, and breathe even. Why do I see you shudder when my mouth opens to say something, why do you pretend to laugh at things that once made your beautiful smile surface? Why do you hang up on me so abruptly when we're on the Phone?
If its me please let me know, how can you go on pretending to care, or enjoy the company I give you day after day, don't you understand I can visibly see when something bothers you? Can you be so cruel to continue this joke you call adoration? Why not be true? Why not tell me how I make you feel inside? How I make your stomach turn and your mouth go dry, why do you continue to act as if I don't see the reality in your words?
Why do I continue to love you so?

4/26/09 - Itching

There is a pain in my chest, an itching feeling. Sometimes its not so bad, but when it is, I feel as if ripping the very skin off my bones would be the only cure to my affliction. Oh how it itches! If only you could see, if only I could give it away, pass it on so that it doesn't rack my brain at all hours of the day, unable to be scratched, unwilling to stop, I am not human.
You might hear me say that im hungry, but in reality I feel no hunger, I eat because this body I occupy needs the nourishment. You might perhaps run across me on a day when I yawn and exclaim how tired I am, but to be honest I do not feel the need to sleep. I am not sleepy, I am awake at all times of the day, even in the early morning hours following a sleepless night I feel no fatigue.
You see me smile and laugh but I am not happy, I do these things because it is normal to feel and to show these emotions, I do not enjoy things. You may think im dull, no hunger, no sleep, no happiness, but I don't know any better, I wish to give away this illness of mine, but remember I am not human

3/24/09 - Serenade

Each night, promptly at 11 he awakens, dresses, and attains his
instrument. He begins his walk of twenty minutes so that he is at his
destination with 10 minutes to spare, he uses these 10 minutes to set up
his instrument, and so begins the serenade.


She once was his lover, his passion, his reason to be awake and alive in
the day, but through uncontrollable circumstances she is lost, but he
cannot give up. He sings to her these nights, five of the seven of each
week, songs of love and sorrow, he weaves her vocal tales of his pain
and pleasure at her expanse, he vows to make her love him once again.
For one hour each night he pours his soul out through his words and
sweet melodies, singing to her silhouette sitting still in the 2nd story
window.

When he is finished he bids her farewell, with promises to love her
forever and ever, and with the further promises that she will hear from
him the next night.


Each night, promptly at eleven forty five she awakens, stirred by her
dreams of melodies and sorrow, she gets up and dresses in her night
gown, seats herself at her window and glances into the yard next door,
she see's him arrive and begin to set up his instrument, as he begins to
play she closes her eyes and wishes only he would remember the right
house.

3/23/09 - The Inner Depths Of The Heart

The human heart is known as the strongest muscle in the body, it is made
up of many vessels and hundreds of capillaries. But deep in the center
there exists a space, a cavity directly in the center that is hollow
inside, it is known as The Inner Depth Of The Heart.


This Space is allowed to one person in your lifetime, and only one, it
is the space allowed for your first true love, the love that is never
forgotten.

It is the reason why, when things don't always turn out the way you
hope, your first love is never forgotten. It is the reason why memories
come easily from the days when that love was new.

It Is Never Forgotten.