Run as fast as you like, live like there is no tomorrow.
And tomorrow, when you wake up...hungover, broken, bloody..alone.
You will know that you are alive, in all that it entails.
Keep running, run as fast as you can.
Close your eyes, hold your breath...run as fast as you can.
When the illusion of your fantasy breaks..when you wake up just like us.
Then you will see, and be free.
The brick wall isn't the end of your life...well,
That is to say it isn't the day you die.
It's your first day ALIVE.
The first time you didn't run.
You may be too tired, you may be too scared.
You may realize that your marathon has barely started.
The grim realization of mortality, or in your case...
Your first understanding of death, The finality.
To awaken broken is now more appealing to you than not waking at all.
You have run your course.
You are now walking with the dead, alive only by comparison.

I don't write much anymore, I don't have anything to say.
I write when it hurts, but I don't feel a thing. I don't know if that scares me yet.
Sometimes I feel things, sometimes I am numb...most times I am wondering if there is anything I forgot, anything i missed.
I look at pictures, recent and old. I drift in and out of memories.
Sometimes I can't remember what it was like being me, when I knew who I was.
Or maybe I know now, but wish it wasn't so.
Words fail to find me in void, a thousand thoughts live in every second. So hard to pick them apart.
I just want to feel alive again, even if it means suffering the pain that walks hand in hand with existence.
The numbness is maddening.
Always touching something, yet feeling nothing.
This is the state I am in, the purgatory of thought...the void of contemplation.
A temporary situation without a doubt. I am not dead. I am not done.
The thrill of life has not left me, I am just thinking too much...too often.
Thinking without acting. I need a break.
I think I need an icecream.

I am a bad writer.
I don't write badly,
I write lazily.
I never do what I should do
when I should do it.
I rarely do
what I'm not supposed to
As long as no one is looking
I do and do
till the work is through
on days the sun is black
I hide my pride
and die inside
whenever it comes back
A vacant mind,
a masterpiece.
a clouded mind,
sincere.
cynical, indeed
in all that I hold dear
Write a thousand stories
script a million scenes
pen your way
to lesser pain
Digress with virgin means


It's a fucking cycle I am stuck in, and the real kick in the teeth came when I learned we were all in the same rut.
I move so much, and so fast...my roots are always transparent and flacid. Usurped from the dignity of a controlled medium, a clean slate, a vacant mind. To let flow brilliance on a whim, to spread knowledge as easily as ignorance infects. These would be the strings and bow for the orchestra in my mind, which clamors on like the cacophony it is doomed to be until inspiration finds me. DO I think that I can change the world? Of course, every thing, no matter how mundane, changes the world simply by existing.
Do I think my change would be more important than the next? Absolutely not. I'm too lazy to be a revolutionary, and too tired to be a radical. I shall rebel in my own mind, where the majority of my greatest accomplishments will house themselves...and praise themselves...Veterans of a foreign war, death rattle, pat on the back.

Redemption comes with a price. Will you pay it? I have seen the eyes of men with no fear, seen into the souls of men with nothing to lose. Unable to reach them, people give up on those poor hapless souls. The irony would be in their lack of concern for the dire state in which they exist. You see them everyday, in church, at work, taking their kids to soccer practice.....they are sitting in your room, making your breakfast. People who have fallen so far into a life with no meaning, and no awareness of the temporary gift of being.
WE could spend our entire lives going through the motions of survival, or we could breathe in the cold air and feel the wind on our faces.
We could live again.
There are adventures everywhere, most times in the most mundane of circumstances.
What are you going to do when you die? Rot. Whatever happens to the soul, happens to the soul. Your body is just a spent cartridge, a burnt out bulb. Live while you exist, no need to die before you're dead.
Zombies.
Don't let the weight of the world keep your eyes on the ground, there is so much out there worth experiencing. Go live a little, sleep better tonight knowing you have another day waiting for you when you wake up.

I have had the Mario Brothers' theme song stuck in my head for about a week now, I also have had a migraine for about the same amount of time. I blame Jesus. If he hadn't died for our sins, and brought about a new world realization, we wouldn't know the joys of pointless death and mass marketing. Jesus was the first slogan, the first logo, the first C.E.O. So thanks to him, I have a headache, and a God-awful song in my head..on repeat.

I am back in JL world. SO, yeah.....ahem. That's what's going on.