When's the last time you did something for the first time?

I try so hard to stay within my own bubble, to stay far far away from those who are wounded. wounded guys I mean. but ughhhh something about them is so damn tasty. something about their broken wings makes something inside of me stir. it makes my feel like I can do it. like I can both revel and live within my trut,h while saving the guy that I can so clearly see I had a past life with in another lifetime -at some point. but why now? why must we meet like this in this lifetime? why did we cross paths when we did, and how the hell can I go back in time, so that I could've stayed at my event later to have manipulated my footing so that brushing shoulders with you wouldn't have come into fruitation, because what if I wanted to keep all of my fruits for myself. I hate sharing when I'm the one who eats so little. but anyways, stay put. and grab a snack or two or perhaps a drink or three and lets see if my very nature will either facilitate a new version of myself, or impede th...

I think the "what if's" are dangerous, yet so delicious. it's the knowing and the unknown that bends the reality within us causing our thoughts to explore unseen realms. I'm always running mental marathons around the polarity in "what if's", and how without them I would feel so lost, but when it's entirety surrounds my orbit it makes me want to vomit. I needed to express myself, and the only way I knew how was to switch on my bedroom light, while choosing to type away. I never know what to say, but still I always find myself here -in the same place. The place that allows me to be, me. so what if, I end it here. what if I stop typing and end the words here, or what if I keep going. who will I be a second from now, or even an hour from now -if I let it all out? and what could stop me if I was too gullible to see past the illusions. to see past the designs created by others who are also wrapped in the "what if's". this short but ver...

Who am I, to you. better question. Who was I, to you, when you weren't too busy trying to bait me. To catch a sea creature that wasn't meant to be caught. to only be simply admired. you tried to over take me by constantly over stepping my boundaries. you were indeed selfish. always taking four steps instead of just two. you became familiar with my character for all the wrong reasons. you weren't looking at me in admiration, you were looking at me in hopes of studying me. in hopes of anazlying my greatness. to catch any sign of availability to engage in petty little dramas. but saying you waited untill I was available is a total lie, because half the time you were only inviting yourself into my plans, to ruin them. to destroy my contentment, by baiting me in things, I swore to myself in private never to entertain. ever again. it's like you were stalking me, only to take notes to put me on trial, later on. later when you insecurities became too much to sit within, o...

You thought that you ruined me. stopped me. changed me. You thought your confusion, manipulation, and projected insecurities altered me, and my state of reality. you blended both overbearing love with fatal attraction, making you the perfect fusion of both unrealistic demands, and the need to sabotage who you admired me to be -before you knew just how extreme my aura could be. and for a while I thought so too. I thought you reversed the greatness that was instilled in me, and for some time I was afraid, and what was even more damaging, was the fact that I was afraid to admit this. I was scared to admit this to myself. and this is when I stopped creating. stopped believing that I had stories to tell. I couldn't even create one story. one single story. your negativity was heavy, and even though you showed me how your mind worked, and how much peace you weren't allowing yourself to live within -your cynicism wasn't meant to pierce me indefinitely into severing what I was al...

I'm here, long awaited... yes, but I'm still here. I'm no longer surviving; I've been thriving, but in the mist of finally living, I still haven't been speaking. I'm still not talking, and when we're not talking, how can we possibly even create. Express. Self- expression is everything, but it becomes a hard burden to shake if you're allowing your body to crumble instead of rebuilding itself, by doing what we have always done -evolve. We were placed here to evolve, and to grow into sometihng great beyond the human consciousness could ever fathom, and although some of us have already grasped that concept -a lot of us are still just scratching the surface. but how long will we stay where we've outgrown, knowing that all its ever done is kill us, by striking us down. I've been getting these nasty rashes on my throat, and I've been getting them for years, off and on, and although I have been creating, I haven't been releasing as m...