College, Man.

The Flow

Sometimes the rivers all I know,
and that's one thing I'll always find,
'Cause all that matters is the flow,
all that matters is what's on my mind.

Today the sky was clear and blue,
with a chance of thunderstorms.
And I didn't know what to do,
except hide out in my dorm.

Because the risk is all too much,
the rain is all too cold.
I don't have the magic touch,
and these days are getting old.

The weather man fooled me,
when the summer came to end.
He showed the forecast sunny,
but forgot the storm at hand.

I guess I shouldn't blame him,
I guess everything's all right.
Who thought something grim,
could stay on past the night?

Nobody in all of existence,
would've predicted all of this.

We prayed for this rain,
we hoped for the harvest.
But we forgot to seed the gain,
and everything we'd promised.

Now this river flows,
Deep inside of my head.
Now the truth shows,
what reality is instead.

It's the constant changing,
the water's ever moving.
I'm always rearranging,
and never improving.

It's Dark clouds at Summer's end,
like coffee before bed:
Sleep becomes pretend,
thoughts flowing through my head.

Retribution and Rebirth

Retribution and Rebirth

The day is coming soon, she says,
The day I break through and will know,
Pain is a four letter word in this poisoned haze,
clouding over me like all others in its flow.

I screamed for mercy, some sign of remorse,
but I couldn't hear myself over breaking glass.
I fell down in pieces, my voice had become hoarse,
and I stood over my shattered self in victorious bask.

Accomplished in destroying my own means,
The complexity met reality and I started to bleed.
Glass never breaks smoothly; it's sharp at the seams,
the blood staining my fists taught me to take heed.

The wounds healed and the time passed quick.
My history stayed only enough to teach.
But that shattered me just seemed to stick,
bleeding me dry like remorse was a leech.

Eventually my intentions grew distant,
revolutions of long past forgotten.
Inarticulacy became my close assistant,
and only rebellion was ever begotten.

That's when I realized, wearing a smirk,
I was in the mirror now, looking out at justice.
And then I broke myself to make it work,
and the irony understood enough to trust us.

So I screamed again for mercy, some sign of remorse,
and again I watched myself shatter to the floor.
This time, however, my edges were coarse,
and scratched the hands breaking in for more.

And the funny thing is, no matter which side of the mirror-
the eyes always looked the same.

Valentine

What men/this guy want/s,

I believe, even though I'm still just a teenager, that I have discovered some of the things men want from in a relationship with a woman.

First, and most basically, we want someone to lean on. Life's a battle,
and no battle goes on without support. When stuff gets bad, guys need someone (like a field surgeon) to tell them that things are going to be all right, that no challenge is too much for us.

Which leads to the next thing we want. Guys want someone to appreciate them. For some reason, we need tangible feedback that, yea, even though a game of foosball isn't comparable to the super bowl, we've done something worthwhile. Bowl a strike, good job. Lift something heavy, so strong! Kill a spider, my hero! It feels good to know that your daily efforts aren't for nothing.

So we want someone who understands us, whether we understand that concept or not. Breakthroughs happen when something never heard of is supported. I'm thinking maybe half of all the crazy people who turned out to be geniuses we're told otherwise by their wives. Behind every great man is a great woman and all that.

Which means that next, men want a respectable woman. Even though the cheap and risque girls of our fancy are tempting, men ultimately know in the end that all of that skin is just a facade for someone's insecurity. The term trophy wife doesn't mean a girl who makes a man's friends salivate. What men really want deep down is someone they can always brag about, always show off no matter what, someone with class. The term beauty is on the inside just doesn't quite say it. Men want a woman they can be proud of on more than just a physical level.

And that means lastly, we want loyalty. Loyalty just about sums up all the other parts of what men want, but there's just something incomplete with the whole explanation if loyalty isn't included. I'm not talking about the way a dog or some other pet is loyal. I'm talking about allegiance. Undying faithfulness, compassion, patience, understanding, and necessity for us. We need someone who will stand by us even when things get tough or we screw up pretty bad. We want someone to be right there through all that stands in our way. We want a friend.

All of these things I have found to be fundamentally universal among men. Whether some of us realize it or not, these are the most basic desires in our souls about women. And all of these wants come with the understanding that women want things too, and on that subject, I believe it is safe to say I am mostly in the dark.

Chemistry

If the hardest things to accept,
are just the hypothetical;
then just why am I so inept,
at the plain and rhetorical?

Take a stone and cast it,
the ripples cast a shadow too.
But if the sky was never lit,
the ripples would cast down on you.

Can you hear the grass growing?
Can you even see it happen?
The worst part of all is knowing
this ship set sail without a captain.

The brain runs while the fridge hums,
thinking on the next move to make.
Then the answer finally comes,
and meets the frigid reality.

Words don't and won't explain confusion,
No one was worse off than those two.
But I'll stop a second for the intrusion,
if I have the time for clues.

Never close the mouth and bolt the mind,
and no one will take your words for truth.
Don't mind your mind falling behind,
like cracked ideas falling off a rotten wisdom tooth.

You knock and there's no one to answer,
so you kick the door down and shout:
"What is this ignorant cancer,
and which way in here is out?"

Just remember you were warned,
with a cherry on top of a pretty please:
the early bird gets the worm,
but the second mouse gets the cheese.

Don't be disappointed much,
the mind can't run forever.
And once it comes back for lunch,
we'll learn some chemistry together.

So just close the door and sit down,
we'll wait here together.
When my mind comes back to town,
maybe things will get better.

Go ahead,James, sip the tea.
Pick up your paper and read.
I promise that its all free.
I'll be right here like a weed.

But while we're here,
could you please lend me your ear,
lately I've been wondering things,
and I'd like to know what you bring.

You see Whiz, you're here in my skull,
and I know to you it looks dull.
So I have to wonder, and wonder I will,
Just what is it you want while we sit still?

Because at this point I can not lie,
I'd take a bullet for you and die.
But I have to wonder if its for what I know,
or to go ahead and lie down below?

As I swim inside the goo left in my brain,
and you continue to read through the stains,
I look for the end of this trial,
and I wonder if its all worthwhile?

You know, we can beat all odds you say.
well yes even the mad king had his day.
But two hundred and ninety nine died,
and one lived to tell how he tried.

Maybe that's it, maybe we're all just mad.
God knows there once was a chance I had.
But that was long ago, I was a young fool,
and look at me now, swimming in this pool.

Is it really just that hard to take,
or is it just the point that you're trying to make?
Things you wrote down, the very things we saw,
are the things we piece together like jigsaw.

But sip your coffee James,
and we'll hold the names.
When this is all said and done too,
I'll wish I'd stopped in for lunch with you.

Question

Question

"Hypothetical" moral question?

If you pray to God for help because you have been out of work for a while and need money to get by, then the next day, an ATM spits out a bunch of extra money, is taking the money stealing or an answer to your prayer?

Your Answer:

Haha nice paradox.

but you are forgetting the actual theme here.

Now, granted this is highly unlikely / lucky :] .

The point is that God will take care of his flock no matter what. Maybe he did allow the atm to breakdown. But for your benefit? Maybe not. It would be stealing, and the bank would look for you.

Money is not always the answer to your problems. By doing good for others, it follows that good will come back to you. This follows the basic principles laid down by jesus.

Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your mind and with all your strength. Love your neighbors as yourself.

these are the greatest commandments.

A pile of money dumped into your hands would cause corruption of the soul.

Message from God: I don't want to give you a fish. I want to teach you how to fish.



(and yes emely, i did steal that one :] )

My Greatest Fear

Senses Fail

Through those glazed and blurry eyes, nothing seemed real at all. As the time flew by, existence seemed to slip through my own hands like so many grains of sand, each second taking more and more of the contents of my life's hour glass. Life - drifting through me like the wind, gently nudging me to the edge of the grave. No bends, no rocks, nothing in my way. All there ever was just… was. In my state of mind, I could not feel, yet I was vividly aware of everything that was happening. I did not and could not notice how altered I had become.

I did notice, with neither surprise nor acceptance, that I was indeed warm, but also that I was hollow. It felt as though I was living in an accelerated world, but I was moving slower than usual. My hands stretched before me without command, and I blurredly perceived that I was gazing at and even observing the motions of my hands. My finger tips moved about the fog that was my world and my body remained horizontal. It seemed as though I truthfully wanted to sleep, but could not, and therefore stayed in the drowsy half-existence I had succumbed to warily.

I stayed in this state for quite some time, searching the hollow that was my body for any sign of emotion that I could stop from spreading, but the door knocked and I was no longer alone in my stupor.

With some effort, I managed to lug my body into an upright position on the bed. I steadied myself before attempting a walk, and soon I was headed towards the door. As I walked, my deceleration in the world had become surprisingly apparent, and I had to grab hold of many objects before I reached the doorknob. I turned it, and opened the door.

Before me stood a woman not much older than myself, with signs of a youthful beauty long past. Her long red hair was tied into pigtails, seeming to hint at the girlish figure I once had known. I gazed at her stupidly with half-open eyes, and thought that the state of my vision was appropriate for my past with her. We had been high school sweet hearts, but that had been long ago. At present, she stood in horror.

"I should have known."

"W-... what?" Was my stupid reply.

"You know very well 'what'- you idiot." Her feet stamped rapidly on the porch as she eyed me with those still intense eyes. She may have been older, but the distinct features of who she was still outshined the changes in her physical appearance - including her temper. Likewise, my stupidity and lack of execution when better judgment was concerned remained unsurprisingly consistent.

"Can you come back later?" I wasn't so much concerned with inconveniencing her. I was more concerned with myself, wanting nothing more but to go back to my musing uninterrupted. She was quick to catch on.

"You know what? No. I don't think I will. This has gone on far too long and you know it." She pushed me with more force than her usually gentle shove. I stared at her momentarily with the hollow shells that used to be so deep, so understanding. She stared back at me, and though she was clearly searching – found nothing. Empty. Void. She shook her head.

"I should have never tried to help you. You have never been one to man-up you lazy, good for nothing, piece of trash." Her cheeks flushed and her eyes watered with these last insults. It seemed for a moment that she would take these harsh words back, but at second consideration she decided to let them take effect.

But in my hazed expression there was no sign of pain, not a trace of guilt, or even of abandonment. I was hollow. No emotions flowed into or out of me. At least not at the moment they didn't. I verbalized my state of mind more precisely than I would have later liked.

"Okay then, just don't let the door hit you on your way out." And I said these words with such smooth casualness that I didn’t even notice how sharp they sounded.

With that little remark, she was gone within the minute. She turned, stalked a few feet away, turned around, slapped me not once – but twice, and drove away in her car. I was left by the door, watching my past drive swiftly away, probably never to return.

It only took a few minutes, but I stood there for some time, listening to the still air and the ringing of the silence against my ears. My longings got the better of me, and I went back inside. I was halfway through the living room and on my way to the bedroom when I noticed my world coming back to speed.

A shot of panic hit my spine and traveled up to my mind. This chill in itself was enough to alert me of the wildfire spreading through the hollow caverns of my body. It was the pain. The unmistakably horrifying pain. I could not stand on the tracks of fate and face down that destructive train today, I could not take another hit, not after what had happened earlier. I rushed to the cabinets in the kitchen, and pulled out a set of familiar glasses from them. I reached for some bottles, and poured them out into the glasses liberally.

"Not today," I thought, "Never today, or tomorrow, or ever."

I held my nose, ready for the onslaught that was to take place inside of myself. I tilted my head back, and downed the numbing elixir. Then, I did another, and another, until the line was finished.

I made my way to the bedroom and sat myself back on the bed where I had been before, my world slowing down to the pace I had become accustomed to. The fires which had raged inside of me quieted down, and soon I noticed that I was beginning to fall into a deep slumber. I perceived three things before I fell victim to my toxic mixture: The first was unsettling, the second was disturbing, and the third was enough to nullify my efforts towards complete numbness.

As I reclined on my bedside, I noticed the uniform I used to work in was covering the clock and making it impossible to tell the time. The uniform had been from my father’s business. I remembered the high expectations my family, friends, and I had for my young life. Then I saw the dust collecting on the suit, and I turned my head away.

As I turned, not man enough to face those oncoming feelings of failure, I saw a picture of myself and the woman who had previously visited me. We were gazing intently into each others eyes with concentrated yet content dispositions. It was the first Christmas we spent together, the first trip we took together, and the place we had our first kiss. My heart flooded with warm feeling momentarily, but when I noticed the crack in the frame, dividing us right down the middle, all of that feeling drained out like the rest of the hope I once held.

Finally, I buried my face under a pillow, and hid from the world. Safe, alone, and with nothing left to hurt me, I began to succumb to sleep. But the last thing that I knew before my world turned to darkness, before I was tossed into a dreamless and hopeless world, was that there was a teardrop working slowly, diligently, and almost deliberately down my left cheek. And then everything was dark, and I felt no more.

Awaken

Soldiers in boats, the beach not far off. Hellish noises, blazing gunfire pounding their eardrums like unrelenting demons. A place voluntarily come to, comfort sifting loosely through their fingers like lost time in a glass. A thousand fierce eyes, wishing to savagely defend themselves, bearing into the soul of these onlookers. Constant gambling, at any moment an insignificant amount of metal could destroy a life. At any one moment a family will lose some one, a lover left to mourn. And yet, as the boat slows, and the door opens, and, even as those in front of them are

falling like so much timber... somehow... they run ahead.

Blindly going into the hellish nightmare set before them. Willingly taking steps closer to what should seem like an eminent demise. Hot, burning, unforgiving metal chunks zip past. War cries from bloodthirsty throats reign supreme on the field, next to cries of agony. Next in line is the unnecessary call "FORWARD!" the urge to carry onward is in the very core of their existence. The gnashing of teeth seeps through next like the crackle of an inferno...

And yet they press on.

Soldiers are an enigma. They contradict the very essence of human nature. They defy all that holds us sane in this predictably random world. They take self preservation by the throat and stare it down until it submits.

Soldiers.

Brave souls, destined to accomplish what they have set out for. The worst thing to see on your horizon, the last thing you might ever see. Insane. Crazy. Lunatics. Fanatics. Unorthodox, stupidly mistaken, blind, incompetent....... deadly.... Soldiers.



We call them insane, and yet, until we find such lunacy, our lives cannot be completed. Life is simply not worth living without something to die for. Something to believe in which doesn't make total sense at all, for what it calls you to do is not logical either.


WE ALL MUST LIVE.
so
WE ALL MUST FIGHT.
so
WE ALL MUST MARCH FORWARD.
so
WE ALL MUST FACE OUR WORST NIGHTMARES.
so
WE ALL MUST DIE
so that
WE ALL CAN LIVE.

and without death, what was the point of living at all?


We are soldiers. Called to our purpose from the unknown realm of the supernatural. Denial is useless. The thrashing of a child against the ground when its will is impeded. We must fight. Pick up your arms. Don't just walk away into the fiery horizon, accepting what is given to you. Use the tools equipped to your existence and YOU LIGHT UP THE HORIZON. Take your soul and fire back at those barreling infernos. Look those who would have your soul in the eye and call upon His power and FIGHT.


We will not struggle any longer.
We will not go on aimlessly in the dark, unaware of our surroundings.

We're in a fight:

and its time we fought back.


The prize?
Eternal life, not just ours, but others as well.

One fights for all.
All fights for one.

and another is vanquished.

AWAKEN