Wednesday

I needed that anchor in my life
A reminder of my days when I was better, brighter
In your magical steps and playful heart, you were that anchor for me
You
We are forever captured in time, frozen in that Summer
One of the best one's of our life
But you can't be that anchor anymore
I won't let you

Back then I didn't know shit
And I don't know shit now
I be going through things
But who would know?
I shouldn't question my strength
Most of this stuff is my fault
Yet
Everyone else knows its really not

And it's taking me apart
The terrible truth of being too young
And having to choose between you
and what the rest of the world could offer me
What do you do when you don't want to choose

Later Days, Longer Nights

Forrest Gump

It's really my social life holding me back.
Makes me a little bit depressed.

My love life is becoming an unfunny joke.
You gotta ease your way out of the lion's mouth.

Think alcohol is not enough.

Later.

21

Ahh yea, this is a momentous occasion, one for celebration and joy. Today, the worries of going into a liquor store and fearing rejection at the counter fade away into oblivion. Today, my anxiety over whether or not a bouncer will honor my unconventional I.D. as proof of my "legal to drink" status dissolves as I finally attain the age of 21. To all my friends, I won't hold us down any longer in our pursuit of a great night. To strangers, I love to dance and sip on Irish Trashcans, wassup? And to all of you who are either older, younger, or the same age as me, reading this and thinking "Wow, this guy is really hype to turn 21, getcha life son," I say yes, I am hype. I have not let the past fortunate instances of purchasing alcohol or getting into a bar/club without proper identification spoil the luxury of today and beyond, so before I go, I say to you all the same thing I said to the bouncer last night, the same bouncer who wouldn't let me into a bar a couple of weeks ago due to my age: "Blackjack Bitches".

 

It's My Birthday and I'll Go Wild If I Want To.

 

Later Days, Longer Nights

Before

I'm going to wake up everyday with an energy that never dies.
Roll around bed, yelling aloud what I want to get done for the day.
Then I hop up, take a shower, eat breakfast and hit the door for classes.
Sit through the lectures, give my speech, come home, eat lunch, and head out for the rest.
Bus to work. Work. Bus from work. Home. And I'll do it all with this energy.

I picked it up about 2 weeks back.
For one of my classes, we had to sit and listen to a guest speaker.
He used to play for the Philly Flyers, lost his job, lost a lot of money, but built himself back up.
He was pretty funny, amazingly sharp, and amidst everything he said, one note stood out.

He said there are two types of people, energy sources and energy vampires.
We can be either one at any time, but the source will always trump the vampire.
Then it hit me:

Ever since I got to Temple, I was a vampire.

I felt out of place,

None of my friends had the same class at me. My alopecia is still visible in one part of my hair.

I was just weirded out.

I was finally in the place I wanted to be since I was 17, 

Now I got it, and I'm terrified of what people might think of me, if they already don't have a notion.

I don't tend to make the best first impression.

And this anxiety started to hamper my behavior. 

I was sluggish, no head high, no smirk, just moving. With the rest of the zombies in crowds.

Well, I found a cure.

A cure in the past.

Before I cared.

It was in the before.

Now, I'm way better.

Keep a source. Keep a vampire.

One to be. One to be wary of.

Later Days, Longer Nights

Riding On My Back, Skating Past Neon Lights

I gotta get a grip on this new school and the environment that comes along with it.

You guys know I love getting lost, in what I'm doing, in what I'm becoming...

And I find myself attracted to destructive people, because we know how to create the best.

I wonder myself when I will stop writing in this thing, writing like I don't know what I want to say,

But I always do.
I keep it right here though. With you. Because you see....

I feel like we all need to create something outside of ourselves.

I read this guy's blog, he was in the army and chronicled his time in it.
I read from start to finish in one sitting....
Seemed like he did it all: commanded squads, captured terrorists, and he was able to keep his mind through it all,
Never once letting his system get to him.

It didn't end well though.

His last post was over a year or two ago and it ended with him needing surgery or something. Seemed like he would get discharged.
Amidst his posts, he had a link to a friend of his who was also in the army.

I almost started reading all his posts as well, until I read the latest one.
He was killed in combat.
But his memories and words were still out here, in cyber space. For a year and some now.

I think this is how a part of me will stay alive, past my mortality.
Did you ever know, I want to be immortal.

But I feel like a fool, thinking immortality means never dying.

Later Days, Longer Nights

Before The Second Thoughts

Today after the gym, i was walking home and had to cross the street.

It was a 4 way intersection with no light,

just a stop sign

and i went to cross the street and this guy in this red and white striped Camaro

came blazing up the street and almost hit me, before throwing on his brakes

 I looked at the car, then at him

and nodded my head and went across the street

but while i did that,

I had these really primal thoughts

I saw myself throwing my jug of water that I was carrying at his car

and then, i thought about jumpin on top of the hood of his car

and breaking in the windshield.

Then afterwards, I saw myself draggin him out the car by his hair 

(he was one of those Arabic guys who think they are really fly and have shaggy and unkempt hair)

and driving his face into the concrete road. 

His nose was bloody in my head and I laughed at him trying to clean it with my hand still twisted, gripping his hair.

And then I blinked, or something, and kept on my way.

But after I snapped back, I felt bad.

Is this who I really am before the second thoughts?

Probably not, probably not at all,

But I don't want those thoughts.

Later Days, Longer Nights

We Trying

This city really takes your days.

It'll give you your nights, but the sunlight is never your's here.

I have no idea where I've been

But the idea is fun.

Please forgive me.

I need your attention when your love wanes.

I need your skin when the covers don't amount.

Saying everything right, never doing it though.

Don't let it swallow me.

Dear goodness, don't let this city eat me whole,

If at all.

I forget a lot. I drop the ball. I breathe. Repeat.

Later Days, Longer Nights

Out of Time

I'm trying to get back to this place.
I was going to write last night while I was in some kind of mood, but life took me elsewhere.
This is a short one, not to annoy or vex
But to let you know I did not forget.

Later Days, Longer Nights

We are not ready for what is out there.

I think about dying a lot.

More than I should.

I figured it out...

I'm too in love with life to ever

 meet it's dreadful father.

This commitment I'm in

This lifestyle they want me to adapt to,

I can never really do.

I'm not the hero type, obviously...

Guess what?

It's just me and my family.

So what am I fighting for?

This place makes me feel hopeless.

Such an odd transformation

Akin to Superman going back to Clark Kent

I take that uniform, put it on,

losing everything that makes me.

In this vessel inserted with regulations, responsibilities, a forced image,

I lose my hair, literally.

The stress takes and I daydream of how it was before,

before another nightmare speaks to me.

Do you know what the color black represents?

Red is passion,

White innocence,

and black is the absence of all that.

The absence of anything.

When I listen,

that's all I see when I imagine a future where they own me.

I'm a fool.

 Honestly.

I don't think bullets can hurt me.

Explosions only occur in Michael Bay flicks,

with the lead escaping certain doom in every scene.

This isn't a gun I carry.

Just another joke bruh.

There goes the enemy.

Black.

 

Empty Glasses

I haven't had a drink since July 11th.

I'm in here listening to "Hold My Liquor" by Kanye West and with each pounding bass beat striking my ear, I can feel myself breathing that deep thought:

The one when you're going to the edge.
Where you see that tipsy line.
You see that you passed it a long time ago.
It's a line made of shadow, cast by the Sun,
but it's dusk now.

An overhead fan whisks around, watering my eyes to a blurred vision.

Need one. Now.
More than ever.
Anything.
Even absinthe.
I hate absinthe.

All those times,
previous,
are memories. Faint, yet sweet on my mind.

Sweet because when I return....
I'll breathe it all in again.

Deeper.

Fall in love all over again, with someone I never really knew.

Later Days, Longer Nights

Korea, Italy, Africa, Germany, Kuwait, Afghanistan, and The U.S.

I'm so through with saying "I love you"

I don't know where to go from here

You should come with me no matter

Proving how I feel has never been so difficult

As I think about how many things can tear us apart

While I'm out drinking with friends or

Smoking a black & mild

And I can't send another text

That doesn't show how much of a jump I'm trying to take with you


When saying the word loses its flavor

All I want to know is when

When will you chew me out

During one rough night where

I can't keep my cool

You don't hold your tongue

Those dark thoughts underneath crack our skin

I just don't want to be a waste of your time



Later Days, Longer Nights

Concrete Clouds

Yesterday,
I smoked a Black and some random gave me some cookies
I was aite.

Went into my room and I felt like shit
Chest tight, lungs filled with airy concrete, and I was not in the best state for a guy
Who hasn't smoked in a couple of months

It was perfect

I am slightly (and secretly) in love with feeling impaired

There's a calm comfort in knowing that with my head high I can still move
Not literally move, but
I can't explain.
Suppose it harkens back to my fascination with destroying myself
A minimal way of enacting that desire
Because I bounce back from it all the time
It be like that,
Some days (or nights) I just need to kill myself a little bit

It's more than just functioning to me
The word "just" is one of my favorite words
Off topic
I digress

No closed caption

Later Days and Longer Nights

Lights Out

I'm stuck in between two thoughts right now.
The lights are out and the mind gets to brewing...

1. Am I a selfish nomad? I'm always on the go and sometimes, I don't even need to go to these places. Dreaming of making a home,yet I don't know how it's suppose to happen. Can you ever take reign of someone's heart who's always too far away from yours?
I treat people bad. I revel in the experience. I regret the act. I repeat.
I forgive. I roam. I think. I want to believe in more, even when I have no clue of what's to come.
Keeping you here, with me, maybe...
Might work out.
You hear me from afar, but I forget my own name from time to time.
Who do hear when you think of me?
Someone who has been dead for a while...probably.
I live up to date,
the version you know is obsolete. 
Savor what I'm falling for? I don't get that gift.
There will always be this cold inside me.

2. Are these actions justified? I get it already... I get busy, 
and I'm only leaving to make sure that when i come back, I got it...

everything I'm looking for in life: 

financial stability, 

success, 

none of this stress,

and maybe, when all those things come to me, the one who held me down while I was running around, will be there still, to get her crown and ring.

I think I know what I'm doing

and

even though I have sowed doubt within the first two words,

it's more than you know.

This is for the greater good, decadent activities included for the release and capture of an unknown.

I still have so much love for what can be, when it becomes.

And I'll be surprised if anyone sticks around.

 

"You could love me if I knew how to lie
But who could love me?
I am out of my mind
Throwing a line out to sea
To see if I can catch a dream"

Later Days, Longer Nights

 

I Know That You Will, Or At Least You Should Try

I had a nice idea yesterday.

Maybe drugs are discarded human souls.

Each trip is someone's life experience, taking you through a short roller coaster of their emotions when confronted with their demise.

Or maybe it’s how they feel in the afterlife, whether that be above or below.

__________________________________________

I got messages unread, pain that’s unsaid

Here’s some old stuff:

Towson Years

Chapter

New School

It was January 6^th, 2009

I was 16

            Today was it. 69 Cedar Avenue, Towson, Maryland 21286...the new school. I woke up at 6:30 am, ready to step into public education. That morning held mixed emotions of excitement and nervousness. Mind you, I had been attending private, all boys schools since 6^th grade. I was a second semester high school junior stepping into the world of co-ed education for the first time in 5 years. You can only faintly grasp the extent of my anxiousness.

            Another thing that was unusual that day was my uniform. For 5 years, I had a set uniform. Tie, slacks, button up shirt, dress shoes. Nothing else. While I walked the path from my new Towson home to Towson High, I felt a little sense of freedom and dread with my attire. It felt like a step closer to the real world with my jeans and basic tee on. I could wear whatever I wanted, but with that, I had to contend with teenage threads and trends. I let that latter thought fade from my mind and continued on the path to school.

            I arrived. The school was off into the distance, surrounded by concrete and grass. Walking onto the grounds, I peeped out the baseball field diagonal from the actually school building. Near the entrance was a tennis court and another larger field off to the left of the school doors. Coming to a burgundy door that lead to the cafeteria, I stepped inside and noticed I was early. Really early. School started at 7:50 am and It was 7:10 am. I saw no use in turning back, so I walked around the bottom portion of the school to get acquainted with the halls. It looked exactly like an episode of Saved By the Bell! The hallways were adorned with school sanctioned club flyers, lockers with peeling paint, and dust in every corner. Classrooms were littered with hard chairs and paper crumpled into balls. The ceilings of the school had digital clocks and the bathrooms were decorated with sharpie amateur drawn graffiti. I walked in a big circle and ended up back at the cafeteria and I could only think to myself “Is that it?”

              I took a seat and let my head fall into my arms. This school was going to eat me alive. I knew it. I just wasn’t ready for the change. High school had all these familiar, non existent rules that I didn’t know of. I left my brothers at Loyola for strangers. It was a new field. I was a new player. I knew when the school buses started reeling in, I would be able to sort everyone into three categories: That guy, that girl, and that cute girl. To them, I was only one thing: that new boy. In my mind, it was Degrassi and I was a new cast member. 

            7:25 am had rolled around and the school buses started unloading the little social miscreants known as teenagers. In a matter of minutes, the once empty cafeteria was bustling with noise and lights. It felt like all the students had brought some color to a blank canvas. By 7:38 am, the noise had died down a little, but I could tell everyone had settled into their normal seating areas, except me. The cafeteria was shaped like a box and each section had a ruling clique. At the top left corner, the Jews and quirky art kids were sitting around each other and telling jokes, laughing loudly. Down towards the bottom were the “cool” black guys, kicking their feet out and just chilling before class. On the other side were jocks and an assortment of other people I didn’t take care to look at because I realized my table was a blessing and a curse. My table was housed directly across from the “cool” black girls table. My eyelids expanded in awe and I had fight my jaw from dropping at their beauty (mind you, once again, I’ve been around all boys in school for 5 years). In retrospect, I can imagine that I over exaggerated their appearance, but at that exact time, I wasn’t. Those girls were stunning, so gorgeous. I believed that they could even make the Greek goddess Aphrodite jealous with their weave flowing in the still air, New York runway tops stretched across inflated breasts, and complimentary make up powdered on their faces. They were perfect. Perfectly plastic. But I didn’t care. I faded off into my head and imagined that they all left their table of utopia and sat with me, feeding me green grapes and caressing my face with their soft touch.

            RINNNGGG!!! RINNNGGG!!!  That damn bell struck. It was only 7:43, but as I soon found out, that was the early bell. Everyone started to file into the hallway, looking for their class. I walked upstairs to the guidance office, waiting for my counselor to give me my schedule. I dropped my head to my chest and silently twiddled my thumbs in that office chair, nervously. People streamed in and out of the room, taking secret peeks at me, making me more nervous. It felt like everyone knew that I was new. I didn’t like that.

            “Hey, you must be Dominick. Well hello, Im your counselor Mr. Smith.”

            I turned my head to see an extending, wrinkled hand towards my face. I stood up and shook it with feigned ease. I followed him into his office and sat down in another chair soon after. He quickly asked me a couple of questions and started to print out my schedule. His balding head and caring demeanor had irked me for some reason. I couldn’t explain it, but he felt like a weak man in a strong environment. I asked him a couple of questions in regard to my classes and he only nodded his head at all my questions. He lost my respect the first day I met him.

            Mr. Smith had a student come to the office and show me around to all my classes. She led me out of the office and off into the wide world known as Towson High. By this time, I started to really get a feel of the school. It had a decent sized library, a special room for cooking class, not-so-hidden cameras on every floor, and so many secret corners that someone could duck into to escape class. She dropped me off at my math class, which was outside in a trailer, and wished me luck. I entered class and the teacher turned from the chalk board and asked who I was.

            “Hey, my name is Dominick. This is my first class and Im new.”

            “Oh ok, take a seat.”

           

            She took back to her chalk board and I rustled over to a seat close to the heater. The whole classroom turned around and followed my steps with their eyes. I figured this was the inspecting period, where the kids decided if they wanted to befriend me or not. I didn’t care. I hated math and wanted school to be done with, so I could go home.

            It was about 6 minutes before class ended and no one had said anything to me. I found myself looking around at each of my classmates faces to see if I could find a potential hot girl to make small chit-chat with. I looked up to the left side of the class and saw a thin petite Mexican girl. I swear, man… I cracked my neck trying to see her face. I could only see the back of her and a little bit of her side, but I was already convinced that she was the one for me.

            “Aye yo, you tryna take peeks at Raven?”

            I directed my attention to the guy two seats in front of me asking the question.

            “Yeah, she look straight.”

            “ I know yo, she can get it. You new here?”

            “Chea.”

            “Oh ok, my name Marteze. This school some ass.”

            I laughed at the obvious and said, “I’m Dominick.” 

Later Days, Longer Nights

Till I Get On Back Home

Still out in the world trying to get back
September 4th
Keeping low until then

Later Nights, Longer Days

Boiling Point

I'm an angry young man with no home, no dad
No sweet words of hope, speaking of a different life
Where things go right

Nights on a silent phone
Like I need to hear my thoughts
I go from place to place with the music loud to get away from those monsters
Everyone should know ghosts haunt your mind
Behind your eyelids
Where things get dark

Darker than she thought
So I don't express how I ever feel
Cause she can't even handle the abyss

Life is in color
Splashes of rage red
Connected to passion
And innocent white
Where my actions exist
Throw in black to contradict, thus creating the absence of all that

Boil boil, little human pot of toil and trouble
Get away to that weekend where you have time to escape
You're know Superman nor Spidey
And damn sure no saint
Your heroes aren't real
Why?
The best things I've seen were all fake

Maniac maniac,
This is where you tell the truth
All out in the open
Like being that baby boy escaping the coffin called the womb

Later Days, Longer Nights

The True Value of A Dollar

In a dollar there is

4 quarters
10 dimes
20 nickles
100 pennies

Any combination of figures from .01 cents to .99 is yours to make and yours to break.

The true value of a dollar lies in its singular pieces.
This one bill can do some things, but not all.
The more you gather up, the more options you have to affect your life, among others.

You can change the world with money, even a dollar, and that truth alone is utterly disgusting.

You can buy your mum a new house
Pay to have someone killed
And even lose all the money you have and become a derelict

And I don't think the masses find this odd.
It all starts with a dollar, no matter how much you gain.
It all starts with one dollar.

Later Days, Longer Nights

Greatness

Later Days, Longer Nights

Chill Wave

Later Days, Longer Nights

*******

Please forgive me upcoming random posts..they do not represent how I am really feeling at the moment.

Someone is after me, but staying at bay simultaneously.

They know about this place, so I rather not communicate with them through this medium.
I won't say when this refrain will be over,
you (the reader) will just know.
_______________________________________

Today I walked from the grocery store in the sweltering humidity of Philadelphia's grip.
With a new pair of work shoes to my left and a gallon of milk to my right, I pushed through the heat wave.

I felt my handle on the gallon of milk slipping very quickly, so I threw it up to my chest, feeling the chill emanate my skin. It was a great relief, albeit a quick one.

And then it hit me.

I miss trivial pleasures like that.

The true little things in life.

Shade under a big tree, blocking the Sun's rays.
A kind gesture added to a compliment.

When did satisfaction become overridden by my pursuit of material goods (and I count money as one too)?
I do not know.
I do not want to know,
I only wish to return.

Later Days, Longer Nights

Saturday

An old poem I found while digging through my books. I want to remember it so, here ya go.

__________________________________________________________________________________

No light from the Heavens
No fire from hell
I am the great nothing in between
Screaming out for more drinks mixed with codeine
Or Robitussin
One night to fade my mind
Walking in my own personal bottomless sea
My thoughts are a million little movies
All just trying to be released at once
If I'm just skin and bones
Then this feeling is worth it all
Blending desires with my actions
A step closer to immortality
Breath closer to oblivion
With the ground feeling endless
As I lay on it

Later Days, Longer Nights 

Next

It feels surreal.
Tomorrow, I'll be moving to Philadelphia, to crazy days and city lights.

And why can't I accept it? My family is still here in Baltimore, but I can't stay, due to some events.
It's either leave or paying some storage unit to hold my old yearbooks and yugioh cards.

This is such a waste, for a pretty face.

And while I'm out there (in PA), it won't be easy street either. I have to work and grind and try to graduate, all by myself.
No help; although Im accustomed to this, failure will yield more horrendous results.

It's survival starting tomorrow and I just want to claw my way to the top.

Today wasn't that cool either.
I was blessed with a situation that was so new, it disgusted me with its creativity.
I was angry, but it was a sad type of anger that cooled me off.

I want to expound on the scenario  
But it appears I will end here.

Later Days, Longer Nights

Midnight's Fool

It's been a whole day and I still turned out to be the Midnight's Fool

No word, no whisper, no mention

Whereas my heart recalls all the good times

Your mind can't let the problems subside

I kept a close eye on my phone from noon to now

And I've been granted the title of the Midnight's Fool

For thinking you would make me smile

 

Jay Gatsby (The Light)

The old letters gave me a renewed hope.

A valley of one vision that I still hold.

How we both take a deep breath before leaping out that airplane, fluttering over my hometown.

Cut to a candle light dinner under twinkle skies, you in a dress that I love, but despise.

I love it because you're in it. I hate it because I have to wait to undress you from it.

And myself in full on "romance" attire. 

I always allow you to wonder.

Transition to more scenes and different dreams that are easy to grasp;

Time isn't on my side when forever's all I need

As I think next to this desktop lamp of what you could have thought I meant when I said it.

Forever.

Leaving my lips.

The old letters gave me hope.

I hate to lessen this light.

What did she think when I said it all those times?

Later Days, Longer Nights

Jay Gatsby (The Dark)

Why did you leave me when I'm at my lowest?
There is nothing you can say that will allow me to forgive.

I'm coming from nothing, but I will have much. More than I'll ever care to own.
I'll share, invest, reinvest, and ensure that I'll never go back to my humble beginnings.

But unlike Gatsby, it won't be for you.
I won't lie, I won't die.

Perhaps you have another you secretly covet.
One of those pressed clean, bright tie chaps that parade around university.
These are lies are tell myself to reward the ugly truth.
It's just me. I'm the issue.

But I can't lie, I can't die.

Only love and try to understand why.
And only if you read this with your heart, then you might be able to see

How big of a mistake you've made.

Later Days, Longer Nights

This is it

I've had my head in the wet mud many times in life.

Since I was 12, I think I knew that this would be a bumpy ride.

Then it turned into exactly what I expected, but something I could never predict.

Now I'm back to being fine.

Im okay with everything that's been happening.

4 days ago, I wasn't.

I was angry

Sad

Just asking why me. 

Why me?

Well, I got my answer:

___________________________________________________________________________________

Because I think God really wouldn't give me anything that I couldn't handle.

I know I rarely bring up spiritual or religious matters to this blog, but I do have my beliefs and I try my hardest to stick to them.

But gosh, I really couldn't understand why everything had fallen in place the way it did.

Today, around 5:37 pm,

I found myself reading old letters from friends and family and love.

I read em all.

From 2002, I read the confessions, testimonials, and secrets of all these people who care (some cared) about me and it got me level headed.

I've always had people to love me, even when I thought the opposite.

So, Im back to it. Doing what I need to do, while trying out new things.

For one, I'm going to do something I've never thought to attempt, but I'll have fun nonetheless.

I'm going to be sober. I'm going to take this destructive energy I've cultivated and use it for positivity.

I'm going to do other things and throw myself back into old activities and new passions.

So, for one, expect more posts, and secondly, prepare to see progress.

I'll document all the temptation I'll encounter during this mission of course.

Later Days, Longer Nights

 

Is This It?

Due to another (and ever piling) series of unfortunate events...

I'm moving to Philadelphia. 

Far away from the Norfolk concrete curbs, just north of Baltimore's humming dull activity, closer to Delaware's obscurity. 

I have a job. A place. A plan. 

And I can only tilt my rested head back and wonder if this is the end.

I have to leave two people.

One had it coming.

The other doesn't deserve her fate.

And although Im biased due to both of their totally different situations, 

those two opinions could easily be exchanged.

But it's my life that I have to live because as one wise, fucked up rap artist preached to a legion of misfits,

"At the end, who's there? You"

I want it all to be alright. Or perhaps I need (more) me time.

I get enough of it already, but this change will be my most challenging honestly. 

And it's not happening for me.

I can't get afraid. 

I take that back, I can, but just not enough.

There's that cloud, 

that dark, infinite smog that rains forever.

It's cold embrace screams it all too well.

Screaming that everything "won't" be alright. 

Later Days, Longer Nights   

My life is a story of how I wasn't meant to be raised

Im in search of somewhere I belong.
like it hasn't been coming this long for me to figure out the correct pattern, formation of those words.

Wish I had a nice cellphone that would let me blog on the go.
I lose a lot of my thoughts to time spent on the highway.

Because I was thinking about love. And fitting in. And what it means to
sell yourself out in order to be loved.
Or at least liked.

Working twice as hard to only get half as far. As myself mostly.

Is it a problem that I overwhelm people in all aspects?
I have a she that claims it's a problem for her.
Another she says I act up a lot.
But how can you reject someone speaking with their own tongue?

For one second that Saturday night I went black.
A ting of dread spawned tendrils impaling my mind, like a tapeworm burrowing further into my system.
I want to write what I thought about, but it seems too early to disclose.
And that is a true shame that foreshadows a growing threat:

I can't even tell a secret in my public vault.

Later Days, Longer Nights 

Are you ready for another bad poem?

Because I'm just another 20 year old that can't figure it out

How to find the fine line between success and giving up

I could talk more

But writing seems best

That way I can complain

Without anyone hearing a single thing

Planning party Olympics and EDM trips

Those places where I can just jump up and down

No one judges

No one cares

We can make out on the dance floor

No one cares

I'm dancing in this place

With no rhythm to my frame

And I'll wake up with a fun story to tell

But none of my problems fixed

 Some day it'll work my way

Later Days, Longer Nights

Constantly

Constantly, I feel like I'm not a constant in many people's lives.

It's the Amtrak, Megabus, and (most notably) Greyhound trips that make this so
And when I think I've found a home
My bed explodes
My bathroom vanishes
Anything I could've owned becomes no more
So it's back to the road

When you can do anything in the world
Options seem like a very constricting fate
No one giving you directions
Just you and a school computer
Printing out your next destination

Tickets and transfers and layovers
I can't even go buy a drink legally to sift my thoughts through these travels

Constantly, I don't feel like a constant in other people's lives
Constantly

Later Days, Longer Nights

Bleach

I want to breathe
Take in all the air, fresh as water
Untainted by human touch

Because I feel stuck in a stale chair
Where ideas are usually brought on
by "what are we going to eat".
If this is everything I ever wanted,
I need to try harder

The library didn't help me out
So I sit with weird kids
To keep my spirits alive

Now I'm hiding in plain sight
In my dorm
made of brick
painted in white.
If this is staying stable,
then there are beasts outside

It's hard to extract these humming tunes out
a closed stall
Is This It
Is This It
Is This It?
on repeat to give a drab beat
With my language
Cause I've been talking all along

No one speaks

Why?

I come here to create a world of my own.
I don't have a lot of places im involved in.

My mother's world, the army's world, school's world, and many others I won't mention.

But here,
here on this web page is where I can finally take shape without persecution.
These words are only a mere fragment of an universe of thoughts that I could never bring myself to say.

____________________________

Is it a crime to want to hear everyone's story?

I wanna hear em all and take part of your world, even if it's just for a moment.

Lately, I've found myself indulged in my favorite past-time poison, 

travelling.

I hate nothing more than packing again, buying another ticket, 

transfers, layovers, expensive snacks, 

and just going there-wherever "there" may be.

Yet, I sure do love getting there.

Later Days, Longer Nights

Freddie M.

A lonely figure atop a bright mountain has seen me
With no telescope, it can see me and knows how I feel
We might be two of the same

 "Look up to the sky and see"

Matter to me, does this matter to me?

As I listen to his music
Startled by his adolescent emotion
This ancient embrace never was my taste
"Nothing really matters to me"
I want that to be my answer
Then I can give it all away to someone who thinks otherwise
I can't find any value in my baggage

As I listen to this music
Moved by someone else's soul
"Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me"
Please say it aint so
As I come to grips with the true nature of sins
Does it come from the things we did or failed not to do
This is where we live

I don't want that to be my answer today
I love people in my world while
My flesh is slowly
closing, just like tombs before me
Everyone knows where we're going
We just don't know where we're headed
There's dirt
And cold or light


I never want to get there or there
It isn't here

Tried to change the song because it makes me feel uneasy
Yet I played it again, because it actually speaks to me
Unlike anything else I thought I could ever hear 


And I know people think I write nonsense or whiny dribble
But this may be the most revealing post I can ever write
My first manifesto

My thoughts dont stop here. "He could not refrain from going on with them, but it seems to us that we may stop here"

Later Days, Longer Nights