Termites in my bones I can feel them devour
there were onlookers present in my final hour
the "life" was intense and I watched it shatter
lights flickering revealed what no longer mattered
I no longer wait in the house on the hill
I've cheated the game with an impulse to kill
myself as the victim and also the villain
good riddance to me, and the hell I was born in.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
If Only Isn't Going to Happen, Hombre
Oh I am at a loss in this world that we live and breathe and breed and boast. I am torn between believing and deceiving and being altogether at ease, (soldier.)
Balance of all these things would be so grand, if only I would open these brown eyes. And when I say open, I mean use them for looking, instead of hiding behind them. Putting up the drywall for my thoughts to marinate and then be useless. How many times must you be slapped in the face before you are awake? You're in a coma really.
And a rambling I went.
I have spent too much time in the dark, no matter what the time of day. I feel I have been questioning my every move and always want to say that there are deeper meanings, instead of just true meanings. True meanings to uncover. Or on the other hand, not to uncover, to allow in. A realization at it's utmost. And then I literally asked myself, "did I really just discover the meaning of life? To just allow things to happen as they flourish?" And what I mean by that is, not that you as a viewer cannot read and have your own input, is that when you're busy as hell, always trying to get something done, always trying to figure out why you had to go through something, you are just wasting time. And it is present each and everyday until you block it out. And we all go through it. It can be as meek as waiting too long at the drive thru, finally getting your crispy chicken deluxe, get tomatoes on it, though you specifically asked them nicely to remove the god forsaken useless vegetable, dump half of it onto your brand new shirt that you had to search high and low for and with that, your life is ruined. Just absolutely in shambles. And if only you were better taken care of as a child you could accomplish the littlest task with the greatest of ease. If only. "If only" isn't going to happen, hombre. If only is the idea that you can go back in time and change it. Unless you're Marty McFly you are shit out of luck. If only states that you could change if you weren't already stuck in a definitive path. Paths get rerouted everyday. You have the shovel and pavement to reroute your own.
There is a twist on this whole scenario, however. Everything that I have just typed up is clarity for my own sweet and disturbing life. It is something I wish I could just wake up knowing everyday. A realization only takes place when you haven't been living it. And with that, the drywall comes crumbling down and I am overjoyed. I must practice what I preach. It is only possible to change yourself, once you have innocently experienced the holes in the earth. The fears of what dark doesn't uncover. The disapointment of a so-called hero's true intentions. Because after you are exposed, you become aware. And when you become aware, you have all the power in the world. You dream for a purpose. Not just to get away.
If one could nurture their younger self, we would be cleansed and caring and oh so understanding of the strength possessed yet buried so deep. I can only hope when I have a child that I would do everything in my power, sought out through the dangers of regret to make that happen for this new to me, yet already existing in a dream, little mind. This new chance to give away the secrets I have learned by locking myself in a room, curling up into a ball and praying to nothing, to feel something. Isn't that what we wanted all along as mothers? Isn't that why we are humans in the first place? Are minds are far too developed to be animals. And that almost makes it harder. Animals have instinct. We have constant change and circumstance. Animals do not have to think about religion and money, and in saying so, that is obvious, but not an often thought that comes upon me. We are given options, and would like to say that we didn't know that it would hurt. We didn't know that it would be so hard to raise, to give life, to show the way. And because of that, we blame. We blame so hard that it hurts. Well if I may go back to the first thought, is it impossible to have balance? Do we really need answers? Or can we just take it all in and be thankful, yet careful. Prideful yet insecure? Happy, yet questionably so? I think so. And I hope for all that I'm worth that I experience more in my life then I block it out.
We will never have a religion, except to accept. Except to accept. I truly believe if anybody could be missing one quality, one quality, as if any human could be missing a quality, we were all born differently, but if we could be forgetting one trait to shine forth before all others, it would be acceptance. To ourselves, and to others. Don't believe that a god, an entity, a figured out structure, has got it set up for you. Believe in the unexplainable. Believe in a reason to be, because nobody has got it figured out. If you tell yourself something enough, and if you hear something enough, your brain has no choice but to believe it. And to be quite boastful myself, I think that it is tremendous to believe that. I am proud to believe, without traveling, without experiencing enough of outside occurrences, that I would know that. I would know this to be true.
But I can't describe a feeling, some might think too good to be true. Some being myself.
My life is a run-on sentence. And I'm not ashamed to not be the slightest bit disturbed by my dialogue errors.
Balance of all these things would be so grand, if only I would open these brown eyes. And when I say open, I mean use them for looking, instead of hiding behind them. Putting up the drywall for my thoughts to marinate and then be useless. How many times must you be slapped in the face before you are awake? You're in a coma really.
And a rambling I went.
I have spent too much time in the dark, no matter what the time of day. I feel I have been questioning my every move and always want to say that there are deeper meanings, instead of just true meanings. True meanings to uncover. Or on the other hand, not to uncover, to allow in. A realization at it's utmost. And then I literally asked myself, "did I really just discover the meaning of life? To just allow things to happen as they flourish?" And what I mean by that is, not that you as a viewer cannot read and have your own input, is that when you're busy as hell, always trying to get something done, always trying to figure out why you had to go through something, you are just wasting time. And it is present each and everyday until you block it out. And we all go through it. It can be as meek as waiting too long at the drive thru, finally getting your crispy chicken deluxe, get tomatoes on it, though you specifically asked them nicely to remove the god forsaken useless vegetable, dump half of it onto your brand new shirt that you had to search high and low for and with that, your life is ruined. Just absolutely in shambles. And if only you were better taken care of as a child you could accomplish the littlest task with the greatest of ease. If only. "If only" isn't going to happen, hombre. If only is the idea that you can go back in time and change it. Unless you're Marty McFly you are shit out of luck. If only states that you could change if you weren't already stuck in a definitive path. Paths get rerouted everyday. You have the shovel and pavement to reroute your own.
There is a twist on this whole scenario, however. Everything that I have just typed up is clarity for my own sweet and disturbing life. It is something I wish I could just wake up knowing everyday. A realization only takes place when you haven't been living it. And with that, the drywall comes crumbling down and I am overjoyed. I must practice what I preach. It is only possible to change yourself, once you have innocently experienced the holes in the earth. The fears of what dark doesn't uncover. The disapointment of a so-called hero's true intentions. Because after you are exposed, you become aware. And when you become aware, you have all the power in the world. You dream for a purpose. Not just to get away.
If one could nurture their younger self, we would be cleansed and caring and oh so understanding of the strength possessed yet buried so deep. I can only hope when I have a child that I would do everything in my power, sought out through the dangers of regret to make that happen for this new to me, yet already existing in a dream, little mind. This new chance to give away the secrets I have learned by locking myself in a room, curling up into a ball and praying to nothing, to feel something. Isn't that what we wanted all along as mothers? Isn't that why we are humans in the first place? Are minds are far too developed to be animals. And that almost makes it harder. Animals have instinct. We have constant change and circumstance. Animals do not have to think about religion and money, and in saying so, that is obvious, but not an often thought that comes upon me. We are given options, and would like to say that we didn't know that it would hurt. We didn't know that it would be so hard to raise, to give life, to show the way. And because of that, we blame. We blame so hard that it hurts. Well if I may go back to the first thought, is it impossible to have balance? Do we really need answers? Or can we just take it all in and be thankful, yet careful. Prideful yet insecure? Happy, yet questionably so? I think so. And I hope for all that I'm worth that I experience more in my life then I block it out.
We will never have a religion, except to accept. Except to accept. I truly believe if anybody could be missing one quality, one quality, as if any human could be missing a quality, we were all born differently, but if we could be forgetting one trait to shine forth before all others, it would be acceptance. To ourselves, and to others. Don't believe that a god, an entity, a figured out structure, has got it set up for you. Believe in the unexplainable. Believe in a reason to be, because nobody has got it figured out. If you tell yourself something enough, and if you hear something enough, your brain has no choice but to believe it. And to be quite boastful myself, I think that it is tremendous to believe that. I am proud to believe, without traveling, without experiencing enough of outside occurrences, that I would know that. I would know this to be true.
But I can't describe a feeling, some might think too good to be true. Some being myself.
My life is a run-on sentence. And I'm not ashamed to not be the slightest bit disturbed by my dialogue errors.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Reverse the Sewage
Sweet surrender in the calm and the kiss of a snake,
I believed the foul stench of the past caused the quake
but as the pressure grew slowly I felt him tense up
and the longer I waited the less he fessed up
and the more I felt nurtured in the ill blessed society
sad burdens would find a small opening inside me
the inconvience to be young around cruel fed disturbance
should've brought me to silence and to question true romance
so I bleed out my innocence till one question unfolds
face an upheaval of strength, or shiver in the cold?
You cry for an answer when you're feeling so thin
you reach for a hand that's been tampered within
the roots pull you down deep into dirty shagged carpet
but you say "oh fuck this" and kick crazy at that shit
straight trippin on graves of your love's buried dreams
and your heart is so worn it is ripped at the seams
you're foolin' your self if you think that you've lost
cuz you're building your character, no matter the cost.
Upheaval
1.) upheaval of war, strong change or disturbance, usually in society
2.) an act of upheaving, usually in the earth's crust.
Silly Little Poems by Chad.
I believed the foul stench of the past caused the quake
but as the pressure grew slowly I felt him tense up
and the longer I waited the less he fessed up
and the more I felt nurtured in the ill blessed society
sad burdens would find a small opening inside me
the inconvience to be young around cruel fed disturbance
should've brought me to silence and to question true romance
so I bleed out my innocence till one question unfolds
face an upheaval of strength, or shiver in the cold?
You cry for an answer when you're feeling so thin
you reach for a hand that's been tampered within
the roots pull you down deep into dirty shagged carpet
but you say "oh fuck this" and kick crazy at that shit
straight trippin on graves of your love's buried dreams
and your heart is so worn it is ripped at the seams
you're foolin' your self if you think that you've lost
cuz you're building your character, no matter the cost.
Upheaval
1.) upheaval of war, strong change or disturbance, usually in society
2.) an act of upheaving, usually in the earth's crust.
Silly Little Poems by Chad.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
From Apple Jazz to Job and Smack
What the hell was that you just read? Oh yes, it is a mystery. This brain, as an entirety is a mystery, but you asked the question. Or did I?
I went to subway in the skyway of my sixth floor apartment in downtown St Paul, sick from work, and feeling quite delirious, which, and can I be quite honest here, is my favorite way to feel. I'm laying in my bed, all hungry and junk, and thought, well, I was given the resources to go acquire some grub, I don't ALWAYS have to wait for my mom to bring it to me. (Living x amount of miles away from her.) Yes, let us (me and my body) make this happen for ourselves. So I go to the closet and pick out an outfit that isn't Nintendo characters on backwards boxers and a stretched out shirt from sleeping, and think eh? Well that is what I came out of the womb looking like then. Skinny as hell with a silly little gut, which has been given a name by my best friend. So my ponch and I decide the best outfit for the occasion.... Anything that covers me! Let's go I'm friggen starvin ova heeaaaah! (In the most mobster voice I can possibly muster, hand pinching the air in a cupped position.) I finally get all my gear together, because let's not talk about how many times I leave and then re-enter my apartment for my lost keys, phone, brain, shoe, pants, etc. (Each getting a tad more personal on things I've forgotten before I left the privacy of my own home.) Take that elevator down to the skyway baby!! That majestic elevator that always has a mystery odor, or substance or human inside, so you win no matter what floor you end up on, if not only to say, get me the HELL out of there. I'll skip the part of me walking to subway, because lets just say it was harder to do than anticipated, dodging swinging legs and stumbling characters, business men thinking they mac and at least 12 very obese individuals that I really just wanted to give a truffle shuffle to. Got to subway, remember now, del-eeer-eee-uuuus (Just as Prince might let you know) and decided that now was a good time to ask for an application, being an ex-sandwich artist. Damn, was I just proud to say that? So I talk with the dude, "the dude" being manager, about getting an online app, and how I was trained to do these duties, and blah de blooo, and then I get the meal with my flat bread. Trying to be cool and knowledgeable I ask if it was still 2 cookies instead of chips of my choosing. Yes it is. Okay then, 2 white chip macadamia nut cookies please. Here is my money, badda bing badda boom. So with that, after carefully collecting my goodies, I still go for the chips. I spend careful time choosing my dill pickle chips, still unsure of how it is fathomable that I enjoy them, since I think pickles are friggen disgusting, but still upset I don't like them, because it seems to be the one thing a lot of people enjoy the most of their sorry little lives. Okay so then I leave. Oh shit I forgot my drink, so I walk back in there and explain I am sick and out of it, where is my cup. So not only do I turn rude and vicious about my glass for beverage, but I already unknowingly stole chips. The line I went over in my head as I walked away, thinking of things I could have said to make me still seem responsible, was "Sorry, you got me all nervous talking about the job and smack." Job and smack?? Instead of job and stuff? Was that gonna make it a turn for the better? And do I really call apple juice, apple jazz and think its the coolest thing since Aerosmith? Chad, you are a different breed. And you may ask yourself how did I get here? Just kidding that is a Talking Heads song, good though am I right? But really, you may ask yourself why did I just read all of this? I may be asking myself why I wrote it. But I will tell you this, having a sick day from work was totes worth it. And the mayhem guy from the Allstate commercials is questionably sexy, being him much older than I. Damn you, Allstate. Makin me feel all NaStY.
I went to subway in the skyway of my sixth floor apartment in downtown St Paul, sick from work, and feeling quite delirious, which, and can I be quite honest here, is my favorite way to feel. I'm laying in my bed, all hungry and junk, and thought, well, I was given the resources to go acquire some grub, I don't ALWAYS have to wait for my mom to bring it to me. (Living x amount of miles away from her.) Yes, let us (me and my body) make this happen for ourselves. So I go to the closet and pick out an outfit that isn't Nintendo characters on backwards boxers and a stretched out shirt from sleeping, and think eh? Well that is what I came out of the womb looking like then. Skinny as hell with a silly little gut, which has been given a name by my best friend. So my ponch and I decide the best outfit for the occasion.... Anything that covers me! Let's go I'm friggen starvin ova heeaaaah! (In the most mobster voice I can possibly muster, hand pinching the air in a cupped position.) I finally get all my gear together, because let's not talk about how many times I leave and then re-enter my apartment for my lost keys, phone, brain, shoe, pants, etc. (Each getting a tad more personal on things I've forgotten before I left the privacy of my own home.) Take that elevator down to the skyway baby!! That majestic elevator that always has a mystery odor, or substance or human inside, so you win no matter what floor you end up on, if not only to say, get me the HELL out of there. I'll skip the part of me walking to subway, because lets just say it was harder to do than anticipated, dodging swinging legs and stumbling characters, business men thinking they mac and at least 12 very obese individuals that I really just wanted to give a truffle shuffle to. Got to subway, remember now, del-eeer-eee-uuuus (Just as Prince might let you know) and decided that now was a good time to ask for an application, being an ex-sandwich artist. Damn, was I just proud to say that? So I talk with the dude, "the dude" being manager, about getting an online app, and how I was trained to do these duties, and blah de blooo, and then I get the meal with my flat bread. Trying to be cool and knowledgeable I ask if it was still 2 cookies instead of chips of my choosing. Yes it is. Okay then, 2 white chip macadamia nut cookies please. Here is my money, badda bing badda boom. So with that, after carefully collecting my goodies, I still go for the chips. I spend careful time choosing my dill pickle chips, still unsure of how it is fathomable that I enjoy them, since I think pickles are friggen disgusting, but still upset I don't like them, because it seems to be the one thing a lot of people enjoy the most of their sorry little lives. Okay so then I leave. Oh shit I forgot my drink, so I walk back in there and explain I am sick and out of it, where is my cup. So not only do I turn rude and vicious about my glass for beverage, but I already unknowingly stole chips. The line I went over in my head as I walked away, thinking of things I could have said to make me still seem responsible, was "Sorry, you got me all nervous talking about the job and smack." Job and smack?? Instead of job and stuff? Was that gonna make it a turn for the better? And do I really call apple juice, apple jazz and think its the coolest thing since Aerosmith? Chad, you are a different breed. And you may ask yourself how did I get here? Just kidding that is a Talking Heads song, good though am I right? But really, you may ask yourself why did I just read all of this? I may be asking myself why I wrote it. But I will tell you this, having a sick day from work was totes worth it. And the mayhem guy from the Allstate commercials is questionably sexy, being him much older than I. Damn you, Allstate. Makin me feel all NaStY.
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