I keep forgetting titles.
So, on this allpoetry site that Emma introduced me to, I posted a poem I thought I'd share, only because my last post was so God-awful pointless.
So, here it beezzz. Warning: it's long. You'll understand what I mean if you take a look at it.
Stream of Consciousness, So Unconscious
written 02.19.06
Where direction always anticipates the
mindless blunders and
the
jumbled mess of
borrowed lies that
contribute to
the
fantasy of
living in
a
world where
death is
common and
fear is
the
norm when
nothing's going right and
all your fears are
played off as
something that can be
cured with
a
pill or
a
bullet and
the
crash of
a
car is
the
last thing you think of
when you're closing your eyes and
falling into
darkness because
you're so
afraid of
sleep and
you're so
afraid of
life and
it's all become
the
same when
pain is
numbing you and
the numbness isn't
working to
dispell the
fear and
everything comes back to
grab you by
the
wrist and
twist and
pull you far into
everything you wish to
disappear but
it will not
it cannot
what will it
take
what can it
make when
you sell this
to yourself in
order to
understand why nothing's going right and
it just grows and
grows inside
because it
cannot be
given light because
it may cause the
others to see that
you think you're just
a waste of
breath
a waste of
time
a waste of
space
and there's no ending to
see and
there's no punctuation to
signal a
pause because
this is
how
you think inside
your own mind this is
how
you feel when
you're ecstatic and
you're crushed and
you cannot understand so
you cannot expect others to
empathize when
it all runs together in
little rivers of
ice and
silver slivers of
this
composed reality that
doesn't present any real argument for
its own existence
------------
See, it's pretty long.
I guess that's really all.
Wow, two posts in one day, I'm on a roll. Or something.
Edit @ 5:05 p.m. - I'm so glad that there's a Wikipedia entry on mc chris. Haha. ^.^!
So, here it beezzz. Warning: it's long. You'll understand what I mean if you take a look at it.
Stream of Consciousness, So Unconscious
written 02.19.06
Where direction always anticipates the
mindless blunders and
the
jumbled mess of
borrowed lies that
contribute to
the
fantasy of
living in
a
world where
death is
common and
fear is
the
norm when
nothing's going right and
all your fears are
played off as
something that can be
cured with
a
pill or
a
bullet and
the
crash of
a
car is
the
last thing you think of
when you're closing your eyes and
falling into
darkness because
you're so
afraid of
sleep and
you're so
afraid of
life and
it's all become
the
same when
pain is
numbing you and
the numbness isn't
working to
dispell the
fear and
everything comes back to
grab you by
the
wrist and
twist and
pull you far into
everything you wish to
disappear but
it will not
it cannot
what will it
take
what can it
make when
you sell this
to yourself in
order to
understand why nothing's going right and
it just grows and
grows inside
because it
cannot be
given light because
it may cause the
others to see that
you think you're just
a waste of
breath
a waste of
time
a waste of
space
and there's no ending to
see and
there's no punctuation to
signal a
pause because
this is
how
you think inside
your own mind this is
how
you feel when
you're ecstatic and
you're crushed and
you cannot understand so
you cannot expect others to
empathize when
it all runs together in
little rivers of
ice and
silver slivers of
this
composed reality that
doesn't present any real argument for
its own existence
------------
See, it's pretty long.
I guess that's really all.
Wow, two posts in one day, I'm on a roll. Or something.
Edit @ 5:05 p.m. - I'm so glad that there's a Wikipedia entry on mc chris. Haha. ^.^!