They're always quite tricky to grasp.
Why should I even have to ask
for a moment, just to
consider what
they mean?

Tears, or some
other genuine display,
something that could prove
that I truly do care, and that I'm
not some ever-unloving sycophant.

But as I come back to my responses,
only an hour later do I find regret.
They are not like me, and they
cannot understand
why I am so.

It does mean
something, not
only to them, but to
everyone. That is why
we continue to act these ways.

She shared one of these with me, you know,
and yet as I told her that I was thankful,
not a tear, or genuine smile, or any
thing other than disapproval
appeared in my eyes.

All that you see is free
this one is not
their experiences equal weigh

I am not to any one as I am to an other.
It is fair to say that I am not any "one" to most.
With their consistently skewed perspective,
what have I won that there is to boast?

I am not to anyone as I am to myself.
What does it matter what I am to me?
The only presence of my sort sensible
is as I am allowed to be.

As alone as any other, I hide from progress.
Anonymity is best served to the indecisive.
Should I be remembered by a name?
Is my life merely organized in crises?

My story is only told in this time
because there are listeners.
Should I go unobserved...
should I go unobserved?

I miss seconds, and then days.
Time moves on without me,
and I am not of interest,
I am no idol.

Stares and glares alike bind me,
condemnation outside the realm
of what is verbal harms me so.
How pitiful and weak.

I wish to understand the world,
and so I seek to understand myself,
for my world, should it be important
is nowhere else but within,

Yet I remain unobserved,
a victim of my own kind.
This life, and the next,
to remember these codes five.

The jack of all trades is unacknowledged,
but he works for the betterment of man.
The master of none is desperate,
he will take all that he can.

Sadness is a quite particular ailment.
More persistent than an infection,
Easier to treat than a disorder,
Not so unavoidable as a syndrome.

Deceitful, however, it calls to the weak-minded.
The temporarily disadvantaged find shelter in its grasp,
they are consumed by rationale, and allowed
to simply cease to be. Quite the lucrative offer.

The proponent of sadness is truth,
When extraneity is left and cognition remains,
we recount the sorrow intrinsic to our existence,
and we take solace in this recognition.

Strangely, I am freer in this present than any other,
care and worry's steel no longer binds me.
Yet escaped from my cell I only find the sun blinding;
It will not accommodate me, and I return burnt.

How I long to be truly yours for only a moment more,
Hosanna

At this time, I must confess.
This miss has caused quite some stress.?
How I long to one day turn her to a missus,?
only then will I not have to ask for her kisses.?

The day's sunlight, and its shade of brown?
that same gleam, it keeps me falling down.
Blinding, but in all the right spots and places
turning other faces to distant memories
when I see hers'

I must confess
I must distress
I simply
cannot

do this anymore.

****** yourselves upon me,
ye needy and broken souls.
Let me alleviate this cycle of harm
and free you with indisputable truth.

Care not for the broken beside you,
only for the damage you have caused,
wait, in unbothered isolation for that moment,
the very same.

Lend me your ears two,
for hearing is a gift seldom usèd.
The deaf are subject to the will of those abled,
but the abled are subject to will alone.

Give your eyes for which to see,
this fact cannot merely be expressed.
The languages comprised of man
are for our convenience, not comprehension.

Allow these words to pierce your mind,
and forever on remain, repeat, and remember
each experience in a different light,
it is now your obligation.

I am no man, nor a thing at all,
a simple existence best defines me.
This same existence appears, consistently
in each and every one.

Sincerely and most truly, for everyone,
Chance

a story does not follow its protagonist, and act as its protector. the story is told, the protagonist is whoever we hear.

2. stories are in every crevice of a second, uncountable tales spread across infinite time, only the ones told are of interest, and only at the time those stories are interesting.

3. rules are dependencies, the free-willed experience the world as it truly is, and all life below them is subject to that will.

4. everything is conceptual. empiricism fails when we use words, for they are the greatest construct of all.

5. do not listen to the miserable, despite whatever they tell you, they are helpless. they will bring about the end of all held dear.

6. beware the jack of all trades, for he was never acknowledged.