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Happiness - hurt - loveLong hours spent with many a sleepless night
Never a single human being in sight because
They all seem like little robots
In their routine worlds
They run about with their Coffey in hand
Running their subroutine lives,
Syntax error, over flow,
Sensory input and output for others is not enough to show,
Careless and wicked
They plot their lives
Running over the people around them, and between
They think that they'll achieve happiness through sex drugs or money or materials,
But there's only one thing that brings happiness,
And there seems to be not enough for people to share
Because they hoard that too,
Like everything else valuable, they hoard their love and take it for granted,
Letting it rot away and fester until it's hatred of the things they once loved,
Because in their pursuit for false happiness,
They kill the things that make them happy.
Meditations of the mindI sit on the beach, i'm not worried about getting sandy, And the sand is warm and beautiful, with a golden-hued color. The sun is warm and it warms me to my soul, though i was cold before i came, i am warm now. There is a breeze along with the sun's warmth, and it feels good. To the front is the water, to my back is a tropical forest, and to the right and left are some rocks and coconut trees. I realize that i dont have to move to see. I merely sit indian-style with my palms face up on my knees and close my eyes, peaceful. I see the forest with its vibrant green colors. I hear the faint sounds of birdsong. the trees give shade to my part of the beach and i thank them for it. I move my focus to the rocks. The rocks have a few crystal clear tidepools filled with every manner of interesting sealife you can find anywhere. I can feel the living things swirling around in t
In a Jar I Keep itI keep my weakness in a jar,
With glowing lights,
And painfull passion,
Along with the dragon called emotion,
Plus it's companion Foolish.
So very bright,
A-glowing in my skull,
Ramming against my cranium,
Not so unlike a bull,
So then i put it in the jar.
So painfully unreal,
Like a fire in my mind it burned,
leaving it like an empty vessel to rebuild,
And then i put it in the jar.
The emotion dragon,
sleeping until i get angry,
It produces the smoke that seems to pour from my ears,
Smoke makes tears,
And the smoke made me choke,
So then i put him in the jar.
It's companion foolish,
was making fun of stupidity,
Stupid ate foolish,
Then walked into the jar,
And then in the jar I enclosed it.
With all these went weakness.
Monsters, O MonstersMonsters, monsters,
where do they come?
O, my monsters, my monsters,
from where art they spawned?
O, my monsters,
O, our monsters,
They are never gone!
They are always in our mind,
So if it is all in your head,
Think you can kill them,
merely think one thought and
No more monsters,
None inside your head,
Nothing but the memories of them remain,
spawning more and more from your brain.
All Here For A ReasonI turned onto a shady, well-manicured driveway that, for all intents and purposes, looked harmless enough. Maple trees lined both sides of the street, and a parade of Canadian geese marched across the road to a wide duck pond with a flamboyant fountain. There were blooming crepe myrtles and rose-of-sharons, and as I grew closer to my destination, neatly trimmed gardens with neatly trimmed bushes.
I stopped to let the geese pass. They looked at me; one hissed. I honked my horn and moved around them.
At the end of the road sat a collection of grayish buildings and a number of signs directing me to the appropriate parking lot. "Welcome to Ten Creeks Hospital," said one of them. "Please enjoy your stay." I parked in the visitor's lot. Surely I wouldn't be staying.
I was shaking when I got out of my car. I had spent the morning getting high. One foot in front of the other, flip-flop noises, hot sidewalk. Mulberry and magnolia trees, freshly shaved grass. A bench and pan for smokers. A set o
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