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brevity, callous. unmotivated

It’s tough reading things i’ve wrote.
It’s tough because when i read what i’ve written lots of thoughts are left empty of the words needed to fully describe itself.

Im not much further along than I have been in the last few months.
The winter blues are gone ~maybe. ~winters gone anyway… maybe. We’ve had a few cool nights once getting around frost temperatures.

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strange. IM standing still and nothing is happening.

It’s been a long time since i posted here.

But I have come to question whether I need to, and I havent come to terms with that idea/fact.

So I start here.

I Want to write so hard the words feel very rough. Absorbed by the emotion, the data can always be questionable. So here looking at myself, needing help and relief, look to this form of writing with skepticism, because on top of writing one thing, another layer to that idea could be wrote. Ideas have the potential to morph, relization of what im thinking takes form and it cues my senses to be aware of the ego.

All this may be good and bad, the major problem is that i know of no tools to help me.

a question pops into my head; seek the bible?

Ideals and morals of the bible are goood but no need to follow.

I struggle. I have not gone to work in over 3weeks. my jobs there maybe… but wtf is wrong with a person, sitting at home playing video games and procrastinating. addicted to video games and marijuana. 😦 this is not normal of myself. but this has been a down time for me.

i am rude
i am … not nice to myself or the people around me.

i seek attention and sedation and yet seclude as much as possible

i am burning bridges.

this shit i put myself through must have cause or reason? no? this hurts to be so indebted to people. gross sickening feeling.

I dont eat very healthy
I think  i cant i think i can i think i cant
an ever playing battle.

 

Must help myself.

Legend Dust

The man rests his weight on the arm of his throne.
Another mans’ arm once rested here, then he was beheaded for treason.
A great change has been made, lives have been renewed and the land restored.

Left alone to rot, the corpse of a bastard king falls into the grand pecking order.

His paul bearers remove his wealth and boots.
The peasents pillage the clothing prior to nightfall.
Finally, from the forest the darkness subdues the remains, and into the night it is pulled. No thing is left.

“…Betraying your people will bury you!” These fragments echo inside
“Leading for wealth and land will leave you truly powerless” its a subtle art of war
“To make your dreams fly, free your people of their rusted forgotten shackles and watch the world turn by their wings.”
I must do this! IT MUST BE DONE!!!

Sunny days are gone. Dark clouds loom over head. The endless burning rages over the lands.
Screaming children in the distance, marauders rape and pillage.
A broken kingdom; No man or animal unscathed.
No home -no field no-where the fingers of flame can’t tickle,
One hero now stands up out of the graveling peasents

A man, A flood to wash away the scourge
A hero, washed to shore cold and leaking
A god, Power wielded with words and steel, a visceral battle extravaganza

His fearlessness and will accept all foe’s. his strength and wits keep harm at bay, his passion and love -wild like his power utilized with the finesse of a soaring eagle. his job insurmountable!

” I call on you lord! the path is dark and it is a thick treacherous journey. I need your guidance! I am without strength my faith is weak and i see no end in this forest. my arms bloody cut up, my legs are bitten it’s a sea of pain, and my body famished too weak to ache. I am head strong! My purpose is clear and my determination is a shimmering blade amongst my fallen brethren. Father of the sky, founder of the sea, the lord of men, I am alive. Bless me O’Lord! Amen!”

The tipping point becomes a memory, remembered but later forgotten.

Creation Relation into devestation….

Today is day 23, I’ve been casted for atrocities I’ve put against me.
The capacity to do is in great demand, but fades away lazily.
For i do not prey, my brains shakin from the rye-whiskey.
The Rum gives me solace; i can set aside past knowledge, i’m drinkin myself drummer than a muvver frucker in a frield of appleton breeze. *slur spit*

*poof*
It’s come to me like a dream, a terrific thought of magic and glory.
A power inside me, eclipsing my doubt, my fear, my love of beer and the strangers i see in the mirror.
Some say it’s clear to an open ear.
Sounds well i thought, but it’s not.
What i got is if your not up to give up every mislead thought that you got of what you think you aughta flaunt on the spot.
Then sir you need a desire.
A power hungry mammoth for your desire.
focused on a focal point unimaginably bright, and everlastingly sweet.
The sweetest song bird of the east.
A holly prayer made by the priest.
A mass blessed and layed to rest,
their sins wash away, hells gates rust away.

For a warrior shall say to his wounded assailant, I live, and i will love.
My duty will be served, my commitment to my service is my blade, the strike; absolution.
May this place be blessed with you and my fallen brothers.
Blessed be the smith who honed this blade.

——–
This was sitting in the drafts for a while.

wHUUUUH

The problem goes boom. Lady steps outside herself and breaks the mold no one could suspect the devastation sweeping the land. Like a car to a wall, pieces fly and places go bye. under her lid the beauty she is races on, harder harder harder. the atrosities witnessed along the wall, road rash, flesh trash, the human torch extinguished.
huckity yuck yuck, what a fuck up.
seat belts, roll cage, danger pay, the first entree makes for a long day. a dead super hero, a past moment, witnesses to never mourn like the family spectators talk, speculation from the cast, telegraphed to the family over cable TV. What a shame who can you blame.

ARRRRAWWWWWW!!

My frustration. Locked in.
Strong neuron pathways.
BATTLE! BATTLE! BATTLE!
Work it! Exasperated efforts. A mere Burn Out.
This Heavy Pit.
Overlooked, clouded, a magical mind ay dormant.
A magic 8 ball on a store shelf new in box
Tyrant at work in me. A fool to the gold. Foolish with gold.
Misdirected; seeking fools gold.
No love, Lazy dwarf of my self.

Myself; successful
cloaked under a moist suffocating filth
Powerful and mysterious.
Time erodes the vale,
Glimpses of power work through.
Brief moments of potential. A brilliance of light,
the vast power of the earths potential engulfs the breakthroughs.
echos heard:
Press on, Go forth
TRY TRY AGAIN.
Never say Never
You got your back

Frustrated over Frustration over …
Poof ( ? ) ….
…A needless battle.
Good golly miss molly…
all this… counts to being jolly. someday

frickle frackle actual fractual

moons pull. my patience stretched. along a board walk of tables and marble lamp posts, the macaroni in my mouth hardens with prickles of pickles juice counted individually on taste buds. crash the dish swipe the ta-blue with oxy-moronics and sleven meanings of inferiority. recognizing similarities of pros, this is a con, conjuring aimlessly for master race shuns of ego aboard a flightless bird effortlessly falling in it’s natural direction. drunk drunk drunk till i protend a ceremony of loved ones. IT WAS ALWAYS THE EFFORT THAT COUNTS. journey to be told in tales. the outcome lived every day. missed friends all along there comes a time to spill the beans. i hope the chili is adorned and gobbled for what its worth the worth of this is just as so to that of the birthing of a healthy green giant soon to swoop through the stores of life effortlessly swaying people to his enormous garden of buck veggies canned and aged so it can make it to a belly in need.

Try as you might with all your might and try try again to succeed is a feeling of love of the self. always fail more than once at all interests success is a door to door salesmen knocking repeatedly on deaf doors