There is nothing so trepidating
as the emptiness

The blank canvas
the ghost-white page
the empty stage

There is nothing so trepidating
as the silence

Just looking
eye to eye, heart to heart,
for connection

There is nothing so liberating
as the void

the vast white desert of the canvas
the glaring blank of a page
the unadorned blackbox theater

There is nothing so liberating
as the silence

Just the rhythm
of  beating hearts
breathing

There is
nothing

There is nothing
so trepidating

There is nothing
so liberating

You know what they say about bleeding hearts.
Should’ve walled it in,
stitched it up from the start.
Shouldn’t be such a basket case
carry worry and pain
in every line of your face.
Should’ve walked upright
line your eyes,
keep your smile light.
Lock your heart inside
and if it leaks,
be sure to pin a smile,
on your cheeks.

3/20/2020

One against the world.
Fighting your change.
Would anyone care if you made it?
Wouldn’t they rather you fail?
Oh, they’d feel better about themselves.

One against yourself.
Fighting His change.
Would you care to let go?
Who are you even working for?
Your progress has to be between you and God.

One against your past.
Fighting your change.
Would it make a difference,
If you turned the boat around?
Could you even find your way back?

One against emotions.
Fighting their change.
Doesn’t the anger feel good,
When it wrecks your life?
Don’t you think you should hate hate?

One against a soul.
Fighting the change.
They need you, you know.
You aren’t what you’re meant to be,
It’s about time you changed course.

You’re almost ready,
So I’ll give you more time,
But I can’t promise it’ll last forever…

The trick to self-analysis is self-alerting awareness.
Thus the cliché: know yo'own self.
Each you you ever be, see you be you.

Each self makes a bio, builds a being viable on earth.
Thus the click, on earth as…
always brings to mind in heaven, which is

--quotes are useless, it's like a choir of…
--- Hermes fans all fanning at once call for…

where,
did Jesus say? The kingdom of truth is within you.
No way,
Jah, wei

we know, we tasted. Wanna bet, your interesting times?
Inter-cept
ception receive the key from long before,
now is as we are
aware,
free to be anything imaginable
or if
we find whole lives memorizable, realizable
at the speed of thought, you live as long
as you wish,
to act as if you have the mind of any one mental
able-knowing
thing
- mortal thing, we can't imagine immortality
- by law limiting speed of thought to
- the inner edge of the bell curve on
- mindless oblivion or nirvana, some call it.

imagine you are fed and clothed, because you survived,
no other measure of your worth,
or mine,
we survived, we can do good knowing,
knowing we know hell is a test all the best pass thru.
Fix your mind's hero story, you're it.
You are your mind's hero story hero, not mine.

I sold mine, did I not make that clear, when this game began,
I took you at you word, truth has a mind, so I sold the
mindless ***** NPC and blew my own bubble
to be in truth with a word accepted as true,
it cannot lie, I took it to heart,
like magic… new ifity

and I'm me. Not a fan of any name, tho' I do call Jesus friend.
{pre-facebook kinda friend, big deal in du-Sie times o'yor|

then you wish to die, and you do.
Before you do,

that's the trick. The other one.

Perform
Per form
Performing
Per forming
Putting yourself into a form, forming
Putting your intangible, expansive, nebulous, spiraling, luminous being
Into a format
Expressing yourself in a way that transmits
A form that transmits
Per forming
Per form
Perform

there she went,
back into her mind
the noiseless depths of anticipation.
her reactions?
controlled.

Close the curtains
Turn off the lights
Take off the make up
Hang up the costume

I’m done
Done being the girl you want
I’m done pretending
I don’t want to be an actress

This is me.
I’m imperfect
My skin isn’t flawless
And my body doesn’t look like hers.

I change everyday
Some days I can’t get out of bed
And others I feel like I can touch the sky
Sometimes I don’t know who I am.

Am I the girl who shows her colours with pride?
Or the girl who hides her scars?
Maybe I’m the girl who hides behind a book
But I’ll ever be the girl who hides behind a man.

I will find myself some day
I’ll show the colours that suit me
I’ll show the world my pain
I will be me.

But for now, I’m done
No more shame
No more fear
No more acting

I just want my liberty
I want to kiss her without fear
To wear my clothes without harassments
To be free.

I wished for sympathy from the crowd in some sense
A soliloquy would reveal my morbid intent
Then tear burned lenses would hold a reflection
Curving their contempt towards my affection

I sought after sympathy from the crowd in some way
That a minor character might die in my play
A supporting actress would cry her last chorus
And I readied to draw tears for the both of us

I coveted sympathy from the crowd in some fashion
But she dropped to the floor before assumed "action!"
Curtains now drawing, how should I act?
The audience sees clearly, dry eyes still intact

I demand sympathy from the crowd at last
Disbelief's broadcast came grouped in a gasp
"This is not the tragedy, her character did not die!
Only the mask that wears her, please stand by"