Runaway

He escapes into the forest as the runaway flee's from his lost home. The shinning moon graces his presence as he steps over a fallen tree. The only sound he hears is crickets and the cold leaves shiver in the December air. He's completely alone. He looks into the stars eyes for more. Direction. He follows suit, as he finds his way to a set of old trains at a station that are barley still running. he decides instantly to jump into a empty cargo train car, wrapping himself in a old bag for warmth. His stomach growls even louder when he looks down and notices that it is in fact; a empty rice bag.

digging My Own grave

My shovel is made from gold
the ground is quicksand
my gravestone reads "blank"
damn this wasn't the plan
I need an escape
so i grab a snakes hand
he pulls me up at first
then he bites at me, so i ran
back to the quicksand
eternally i'm damned
my endless digging continues
as the night becomes day
the sun looks at me
and says there's another way
she says in a soothing voice "The deeper you dig the deeper you get, you grave only becomes wider and harder to miss. Stop your journey now and let it begin. The end is near, this is your last dying sin."
So let it begin, I think to myself
She is as wise as beautiful so I listened with care
As the night falls again I let the sand begin it's tare
it's cold and it's everywhere

it suffocates me dry and dazes my eyes
so i close my eyes and hope for the pain to be realized
but then I feel a breeze
The soft wind on my cheek
I open to see myself sitting on a street
Between a fork in the road, and a kid all alone
Alone on the dirt road
looking for a bus ride
just trying to find a way home.



(When I say "I" in my writing i'm never talking about myself in this moment. This is never about myself. Just emotions of people. And things I've seen and heard.)

I look up to see nothing but caged animals let free as they rush to the scene, blood pumps through their veins and adrenalin is taking control. They jump up and down in a frenzy of laughter and cheers at the battle below the tables they stand on. I take a step back and lean against the wall, not looking at the reason of the frenzy but the animals enjoying the chaos. Blindness sweeps them as they continue to watch the battle rage on, one punch two punch three, a animal's down. Cheers and laughter roar from the crowd as the animals begin stomping on the tables and laughing, caught up in the situation that's become a TV show for me. I can't relate. I'm not saying I've never become a animal before, I can never say I won't again. I can't predict the future. But I still regret it though, as we all say we regret how we don't realize how fast time goes by. I'n the end it makes me wonder how I relate to the animals running and jumping on tables laughing at others pain. It worries me for the future, and it frightens me that we don't know our past. I could say I rather be isolated from it all, live on some island somewhere and kick my feet up and read a decent book; but in reality I need that connection. We all do, it keeps our human connection. It's disappointing but those animals I was talking about are still our brothers, sisters, neighbors, and fathers. They're everyone. But one day I wish not to worry about someones foot kicking my tray off the table because they're standing on top of it yelling. But hey, It's just some fight at lunch. I should just enjoy the free entertainment.

The Cover

"This cover is fantastic, the art and beauty behind such a masterpiece of literature is astounding, to think that someone put in so much effort and imagination into this breathtaking piece of work. I don't think I've ever seen something so magnificently well done, do you see how he created the figure into it right here? Just astonishing." Chelsea says with amazement.

"Yeah it's something alright-" Jake angrily exclaims.

"It's nearly undefinable." 

"-Yeah, but what do you think of mine?"

"You're cover?"

"Yes, did you like how I put it together?" Jake then pulls his cover out. A crudely drawn sunrise with tall trees and cool waves from a beach coming in to greet you as the morning rises. 

"Well... It's a start, it doesn't pop nearly as much as that God like masterpiece over there... but it's ok."

"Oh. Well did you see what was inside his cover?" 

"No No, that's not important; that cover-" 

"Well just take a quick look, It may surprise you." He says with a annoyed look.
"Well you're rose inside your cover was fabulous, I don't see why I have to... Oh."

"Oh?"  He yells sarcastically. 

As she looked inside the cover, all she saw was a small dull ridged piece of coal.

"Well... That's very disappointing" She says with a frown. 

With a laugh Jake says "His exterior beauty can only cover up so many lies. Bye."

Jake then walks away leaving her with a beautiful cover rapped around a dirty piece of coal. After a few minutes she already begins missing his rose, and runs after him. She drops the cover on the ground, destroying some of the beauty she claimed she loved so deeply only a few minutes ago. A piece of the coal is noticed from the top of the cover, and everyone that passes by notices the clear beauty, but also notices the clear wrongness. Everyone avoids it.

In a perfect world. Only In a perfect world.

Four Clean White Walls and A Ceiling

Was once your room but now it's a namless shame. All you see is faces laughing at your so called reign, but these walls are so plain, what gives them a right to laugh at my pain? Can't they see they're to blame, giving me looks of indecision and flame. Don't they deserve the same? I was just looking for the fame, they always are trying to take that away. But the walls get louder the more I notice them, they sufficate me deep and I just hold it in, I stay to myself trapped in what I created then. No exits here just holes of self patroling sins. So why do I speak of the evil that's clearly within. Why can't they just soar away like the cool wind. The four clean white walls and the ceiling to match, have no name and are clearly intact. In every home of every person they claim to rest. waiting for the day of the fool to become depressed. They'll suck you in and look at you with blank eyes, and say to you "you need to really recognize. This isn't a self profiling prophesize life of lies, you're creating it because you can't just visuallize a world without these horrid cries. Just close your eyes and sleep and don't stare at me, because just like you I don't know why children are starved to the point that the only thing unbony is their cheeks. So rest your head, and let your mind free. your slumber will free you from that wunder.

Reflections, Mirrors, and Illusion

Mirrors have always interested me, from simiply how they work to a simple idea of looking at ones self. It's a reflection of what you are in the universes eyes. But at the same time there are those mirrors you see at carnivals that are disorted reflections and illusions of what your eyes are creating. It's not what really is, It's a illuison that your eyes create. You're really not in 20 places in the mirror room, it's just you and a room of mirrored reflections. So is it the universe that has created these prospectives or just the eyes attatched to our brains? But if it was our brains alone that created these images of who we are wouldn't they be perfection to us? Wouldn't there never be a person who felt "fat" or "ugly"? Maybe we're programmed to see different things, just as we see ideas differently and all have different interests. Maybe it's only relevent to the people that think about it. But if you arn't thinking about what or who you are, it seems you'll never realize where you're going.

What do you think you're doing?

Interesting line, makes me think. Just think about that statement... "What do you think you're doing?" I know exactly what i'm doing and why I'm doing. But maybe my 'thinking' is off. Maybe my whole 'philosophy' is wrong. But hey, I'm the only person to tell myself I'm screwing up. Then again, who cares what anyone else's thinks unless it harms them. Right? I could just say only God can judge me, but that's a lie. We all have our own perspective at what's decent or right in this society. But in the end we're all islands, just hit by the waves that surround us. So I guess It's unavoidable. Something we deal with as people. Our plain eyes can never see the back of our head, Only another. We depend on others for the feedback but hate when we receive it in a negative light. The consequence of honesty is a riddle that we all must find the answer to. But let's not over analyze a simple set of words. It's just a simple question. What do you think you're doing?