#like wtf do you mean im not allowed to have sharp objects
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chains4w-gutzfuckk · 9 days ago
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can't wait till I move out and can be self destructive again
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triumphorce · 6 years ago
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                   under stars that feel as far as
                               real does..
at the moment.
at any moment..
kidnap me.
any chance presented  
& in moments prior.
spent alone
in 
zone.
far from progress.
stasis,
stationed next to
hope & regret.
on either side.
stamina. breathe now
to breathe more.
no free will.
i got to survive.
i got to make it,
especially if i just change aim
change rim-height,
relate with reality
change chin height,
keep head up,
lower expectations
keep pen up.
can’t make shit up,
so i make this shit up
dig deep, drain soon as i wake up
from sleep, or conscious nap..
break up
buildup
of words
that
feel
like
millions.
euphoric
ultimatum;
write,
or just
waste.
can’t wait
to post, create.
post haste
long ass roads that really dont have
an end, or means to.
I just become more of
whatever comes;
whatever emotions
i allow;
however
i react;
to
whoever,wherever,
when tf ever
‘cause all i am
is now, here.
a little more conscious..
that’s it.
&the more i remember,
the more i forget.
gotta pick and choose.
careful.
careful, please.
carefully
 cut ties, choose way
‘cause by the time it's time to remember
new knew's
once was' just can’t keep up
and i accidentally
delete something
important,
or distort it..
gotta
slow down
life...
ssssshhheesh
i once was in less pieces,
&I at least, once, knew peace, but didn’t know it,
more than likely still do
staring at sky blue.
so blue..
eyes find it soothes
waiting on.
bus late.
contemplating, mind rages
sea
lost in deep
hue pool
sharp, wind wrapping body.
waitin on,
waiting on.
contemplating. gone.
daydreamin way thru life.
thru the little things
i always belittled.
cause I thought I had what i needed. or what I had was mine to keep.
...just because.
i need a little more somethin
a little more new, more original stop cliches, tropes,& archetypes in general
droll,
repetition equals learning, well i'll just lurn-less
beg to differ, by beggin questions, even when forced to tread slow,&only do so in head.
we’re all middlemen.
just fiddlin’
‘round in world,
in universe,
riddled withh riddles,
that
trickle,
drip
in
complex
descent
from cognitive
  beginnings.
ephemeral glimpses of outside-nighttime-world,
through blinds in bed, as a child to now, still just as far from.
as far as real feels.
feelin nothing like how I do now.
but pain passes,
so it just must be my brain's capacity for trust shrank. & elaborates time taken for to cross neural pathways,
not get lost, and make it back safe save, all at the same time, while i attempt to ignore age
pay mind solely to the idea i can do, &I don't have to prove.
to become honest, so potential growth is optimum to be one with me, and know I can't ever be anything but and no idea is ever done, no matter finished, no grey matter greyer, no more dr. bender's, no more directions, no more winners, reflect on self, &what it means-to be better, i deflect defects w/ skylark teeth,  
a truer sense of.. truth
a higher level basic
newfound fundamentals
that all the world and creation in it,
then, now, or later
are truly small
&
no life was ever finished
nobody wants to give it up,but we learn to
and as a consequence return to world what we wish to see beyond our existence
to find trust again love again feel again believe again hurry up, clock's tickin
get it, grind look and find get inspired go inspire go perspire run a mile two three four
five seconds six seconds
gotta go for it gotta get better, 
 never listen only instrumentalz for me
in a room   aspire to be able to define my every rhyme and reason behind thoughts had,
itchin to stay consistent, keep on writing and don't worry about why, keep on filing tomes of dreams, ordering guides to self, from one idea to a whole library of shit I did,
 like,
"oh, damn kid, you wrote that?"
damn right I did.
conversations that I have in my head
while I reread pieces
an elixir, a pensive remedy
for when I feel reluctant toward
reality, when in reality
it's really just the people around me that I trusted, busted ass for, gave up past for filled up gigabytes, sticky notes, notepads for designed a whole world for,
put off parties, friends, a part of me I never gave a chance for. became an outcast for. put on mask for.
to be compared and not contrasted warned and not encouraged critiqued but not heard
made me want
to tell, create a story and not give a damn about glory.
although i worry how i come off..sometimes..
made me
change style time after time for some time, now..
made me have
to boost own confidence, own own ego; inflate like raft, & float to shore,
common ground with action &
focused on
how I'm amounting in life.
..apparently
im just climbing up invisible
mountains
but i don't let it make or break me,
used to,
but no more ,& nowit's just me.
&that's just crazy..
so im focused
on how im a mountain lion to moles tryna troll, but       most the time, tho                    I'm...focused on settling score with where               I've failed
& failed to respond to failure well
                                    let go
of initiative,   hung to anger
in orbit  around regret towards doors left unopened, words unspoken to people gone, that could've changed life, if only They could hear these thoughts.. if only I had someone to talk to besides myself, & people that talk to high-five themselves; given approval never sought, advice for battles never fought, in a room for most of youth, stuck in head, so much to see, explore lore of stories never written, so much done even before i decided to pick pen up, before i decided I was ready for commitment decisions in head turn to an every 5 minute thing,
                  stuck in holes    deeper than before
tell-tale signs around sub-subconscious                         that Im chasin nothin..
apparitions..
in front of people
waitin somethin fierce
for me to
summon what's already there
a mirror image of miracle from thinnest air from holes put in life for pride in pages of jumbled thoughts gaps in memories for drafts that define ironic, describing fine lines I believe are there, in thinnest mirror, between me and experience in eyes that remind me i am less, i am more i am worse, i am better everything in between all and nothing, not objective, but an object capable of observation, own purpose assigned no more worth than yours, no more than I have dealt my self chances missed to live for product tossed or lost in the end
x's & lines through a mind confused,              backspaces                       scribbles       procrastinating daily, delaying the inevitable,                                           staring at.. ...coffee steam            and letters linked in ink curves and ink in nerves
        on nights only sleep's deferred as vivid as yesterdays and scenes in head of tomorrows            mixed in with skips in consciousness     obvious options almost always missed second guesses linger in gut like wtf
what the fuck am i doing everyday, if I don't contribute to future
to believe, or not to believe i was in control of will was the whole problem let go of all it hone on goals. fly low, that is...
as far a stretch as breath of desire to contribute to the world   believing if chance exists, i will succeed I will fulfill promises thru notepads & audience
a caged bird singing
do or do not.
seems all I've done is try, it seems to try isnt good enough, seems what they want from me wasn't what I was told they want, which is for me to want from me & instead what they want to see is what they want to see
me to become this and not my own, no matter how many hours spent, no matter the font, text, or etiquette formed to gain attention, but apparently a proper use of improper use of prose prospered overtime & i kept my posture, keep me from losing self, going crazy, letting people make me think something's not okay, or wrong with me, or out of whack off top, not taken seriously
priorities of the majority of society made it difficult to captivate eyes, and garner respect, because of conflictive internal contradictions to set out for what I thought was spreading message, but was embedding judgment of self, & effort, looking at motives that been made a home in heart like they suspect, but they was who fucked with me when I wouldn't even fuck with me, wanna be someone else, something else, like what you want clave?
to wait for mine..
psh, nnn’eh, thinking I was good enough to be taken seriously ..
thinking there was nothing to do, but to do, but something changed course, one day,
 one day atta time
thinking that I was right behind, could just lift up arm and touch but that wasn't the case, ever, constant race
     couldn't hold on, couldn't hide the pain to psyche out greatest opponent, me
                   didn't want to, saw no point
   repeating and repeating, over and again
so on and so forth, thus forth destroying self                               convinced I couldn't help it      and still am
and still can't
accept I ever gave in,   broke under pressure, buckled under what some would chuckle over, no pity, just recognition of jimity's petition to push when pushed, with thoughts into written gale force, in a position to always hope, so when foundation crumbles, there's another one up under
if not, I use earth to wander.
whether with excess of momentum or subsiding in subtle realization of sustenance behind life's work
purpose on course set to find reward I'm told I'm looking for..
fin
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