Me?
A secret.
Too complicated to explain
Whenever people ask.

if i die young, know i died unhappy and life’s unfair,
if i grow old and die traditionally,
know i died unhappy and life was a misery

i’d tell you a tale
of all of my life’s history
but it would all be derailed and all sound pale
in the words of my mouths contradictory
so i’ll leave you with my frail words for the cemetery;

if i die young, know i died unhappy and life’s unfair,
if i grow old and die traditionally,
know i died unhappy and life was a misery

when i’ll die, i’ll die artistically
candle lights, speaking words lyrically
and if youll ask me if i could go back and do it all again, if i’d make a change,
i’d say in a heartbeat
and if i did, i wouldn’t have to repeat

if i die young, know i died unhappy and life’s unfair,
if i grow old and die traditionally,
know i died unhappy and life was a misery

for i didn’t do it my way,
i did it life’s way
if a decision could have swayed
me in another direction,
i would be happier, in the life of my correction,
that got lost and died with life
while i waited to come back to mine

so if i die young, know i died unhappy and life’s unfair,
if i grow old and die traditionally,
know i died unhappy and life was a misery

and to my life, i miss you
and to my cat-child, i miss you
and to my moms eyes, i miss you
and to my sister-child, i miss you
and to what was once mine, i miss you

Pensativo estaba el Cid   viéndose de pocos años
para vengar a su padre   matando al conde Lozano;
miraba el bando temido   del poderoso contrario
que tenía en las montañas   mil amigos asturianos;
miraba cómo en la corte   de ese buen rey Don Fernando
era su voto el primero,   y en guerra el mejor su brazo;
todo le parece poco   para vengar este agravio,
el primero que se ha hecho   a la sangre de Lain Calvo;
no cura de su niñez,   que en el alma del hidalgo
el valor para crecer   no tiene cuenta a los años.
Descolgó una espada vieja   de Mudarra el castellano,
que estaba toda mohosa,   por la muerte de su amo.
«Haz cuenta, valiente espada,   que es de Mudarra mi brazo
y que con su brazo riñes   porque suyo es el agravio.
Bien puede ser que te corras   de verte así en la mi mano,
mas no te podrás correr   de volver atrás un paso.
Tan fuerte como tu acero   me verás en campo armado;
tan bueno como el primero,   segundo dueño has cobrado;
y cuando alguno te venza,   del torpe hecho enojado,
hasta la cruz en mi pecho   te esconderé muy airado.
Vamos al campo, que es hora   de dar al conde Lozano
el castigo que merece   tan infame lengua y mano».
Determinado va el Cid,   y va tan determinado,
que en espacio de una hora   mató al conde y fue vengado.

******* ****** demons.. they're everywhere.
And I've known it about this site
for so ******* long.

And the witches..  Jesus Christ--
control freaks,   every one of you.

What..
do you think your creativity 'substantiates'  you?
They're   just   *******   words.
Your creativity comes with an accountability..

but you won't have any part of that..   will you?

If your demons are so ******* powerful,
why do they hide inside of you?
Like a pathetic  excuse of a man, stepfather--

Using..  using..  using.. his wife's beautiful daughter..
over and over and over and over again.

It is no different with these Unholy shitbags also..

("Oh, but don't I gather the most followers with my words?")

It's just empty ******* babble.
In the Realms,  it means nothing.

Absolutely.   *******.   Nothing.

The *******, inhabitor is just an extension of your
empty, ever-controlling..  soul stealing Mother--

   It's an extremely-closed loop, Beavis.
                End of ******* story.


******* ******* demons..
the pathetic ******* are everywhere..

when a heart finds love is flutters there inside
such a lovely feeling from it you cant hide
makes you feel so happy makes you feel brand new
this is what will happen when love comes to you

getting even stronger each and everyday
stay forever true and never fade away
there inside your heart your love will always be
for now and evermore for eternity

oh, the strong urge to be young again—
pinches my heart so deep within.
isn't it great being young?

oh, i still remember,
the knee bruises while playing,
such chaos has never appeared again—
isn't it great being young?

a child wouldn't mourn
for love, care.
world loves them.
everything appears fine until
they grow up.
isn't it great being young?

the child knows nothing,
neither the world nor the cost of living.
but, the joy in being;
happiness to them is inevitable.
isn't it great being young?

younger ones often get uplifted—
might own many hobbies,
perceived as an "over-achiever."
isn't it great being young?

the same child grows up, realizes
suffering is inevitable.
they deal with unfeasible expectations
for the world,
once an over-achiever, always an over-achiever.
younger ones never had it easy
isn't it great being young?

now, the suffering feels permanent,
while joy is temporary.
growing up, they realize—
didn't everything change?
so, is it great being young?

a younger child—akshitha.

Surely not the tunes?

~
Lipstick to void. She is a race against time. The beveled past a disruption in her lines of influence.

Travel is dangerous, and tonight it darkens the highway of blood vessels coursing through her extremities. She wants to be luminous and under the skin.

While Dorothy dreams of tornadoes in Kansas, she dreams of remote climbs in lesser Glasgow, of party drugs in Tokyo. How many lights does she see?

In her hair are sixty circuits. But she waits, religiously inclined on the hotel bed. She drove through ghosts to get here wearing nothing but Las Vegas.

So strange at this hour, in a city full of sleepwalkers for the taking, she now dreams she's a bulldozer, she now dreams she's alone in an empty field.
~

What’s worse than loving you
but knowing I can’t have you?
Not the silence,
not the waiting,
not the ache that stretches across nights.

Even the stars fall quiet—
they know
there’s no sorrow deeper
than holding a love
that was never mine to keep.

Today I got a hug, out of the blue                                                             ­     
                                                           ­                                                               
and it even came with an "I love you''                                                            ­    
                                                            ­                                                        
Such a simple kind gesture                                                          ­                                                  
              ­                                                                 ­                               
  It brought me such pleasure                                                         ­                     
                                                                ­                                                          
It picked me up when I felt down                                                             ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­      
  turned my day totally around                                                           ­                 
                                                                ­                                                  
  Just when I thought no one cared                                                            ­            
                                                                ­                                        
someone loved me, someone shared

Wish I'd see dead people
Instead of all this evil

Oh look, that's nice...
Do it again,
Over and over
Continuous loop
Side to side
Over and -
Ow
I guess it's not so
Nice after all

Denim, a durable fabric
Fading over the years
Eventually distressed, frayed
Like warm summer memories of years gone by
Not created to appear that way
But forged over the years
Like an old friend that has lost some luster
But is classically appealing still

True love should be like faded denim
A love of your life should gradually dim and become a classic memory rather than dissipate within months
A shared deep connection should tatter over years like the knees of a comfortable pair of denim jeans
There shouldn't need to be a reason to communicate when you have loved someone deeply
If a reason to communicate is needed months later, perhaps the love wasn't that intense as the care to just connect without a reason would still exist
Just as the color of denim will fade in intensity in time, so should the deep feelings one has. If a loved one vocalized that they would have turned their life upside down for you, it would take years rather than months to be at peace with not speaking frequently

Foam lines move outwards

From oars that pierce stillness

Spreading just to fade.

Is abrupt,
FI AMANILLAH is beautiful,
It means I leave you in the care of Allah,
Who never abandons you.
28/5/2025

loving you is a constant ache
a constant shiver
and a constant wake

loving you is as hard as crying in silence
as running forever
as running in water

keep it sweet
but i just really wanna
grind on your thigh
while your hand
softly strokes my side

i wanna be yours
but we have different interpretations
you wanna be my daddy
but i want you
to be my daddy

i can't help it
you can't help it
you're so excited
kissing my neck
snaking your hands tight around my waist

daddy, daddy, daddy
the endearment is so twisted in my mind
you won't ever be my daddy
but you'll always be my daddy
i'm so, so innocent, but am i really ?

i know she’s more than capable
she left me at the table
the lines we drew won’t intersect
it’s probably best we never met

i wanna scream
and shout
and let it all out

Wind wraps me in a hug

Clouds form a blanket around me

Sun warms like a cup of tea

I wake,

To Heaven’s tears

Dripping down...

Their gentle potter-patter

Kiss the earth--

God’s promises:

To make,

All things new again;

Right.

Suddenly we see
At the corners of our eyes
The cost of our love

Quench your rage with cooking oil,
With powder, or with ***.
Whatever way you quench your rage,
Our world will soon be done.

Calm your nerves with nicotine.
Use narcissism, or use noise.
It will not matter what you’ve used,
When all the world’s destroyed.