Conquering Love? Or Loving To Conquer?

I feel like I’ve failed to express myself as of late.  As if my views have been left dry due to self-pity and perhaps a bit of fear about the reality I am presenting myself as.  I had to pause the other night due to ‘the cup throwing incident’ and reflect on it.  I questioned myself, “self…. am I ready for this? Is this the fact that I see fit for myself?” It took me only a couple of hours to fully convince myself that yes,  I am on the right path.  To give up would only lead me back to where I started.  Back to a place where I don’t feel comfortable being who I am.  A place that I feel more empty than is ever imaginable to sustain emotional survival.

I wonder, though, what it is that I seek still.  I haven’t quite found myself, but I’ve jumped that hurdle by now.  I lack any sort of goal, though.  I at the very least need a goal.  There is no point to anything really if I don’t have a goal.  Even the idea that I’m just going to enjoy life has that simple ideal of a goal:  ENJOY.  I lack even that.  I feel like I seek too often the acceptance of others who  have already given every inch of acceptance.  I still feel like a broken wheel.  Like I am just something of a defect.  I have no one in my life to go to for that deep emotional comfort you get with love.

I love my family.  I love my son.  I love my friends.  To not have a person close enough to even flirt with is disastrous to a soul in my opinion.  There is a lot of expression that happens through that.  You don’t need a relationship to enjoy the simple feeling that you seek and label as ‘love.’ Love comes and goes like a flower.  It blossoms.  It dies.  Sometimes it comes back in that same spot, but sometimes a seed has been spread and a very similar flower blossoms elsewhere.  I am at a point where I feel like all my seeds of love have died.  I don’t feel like I can find enough comfort in my own self to allow someone to love me.  I don’t want to feel like I am the reason for someone’s life not going in the direction they want to go.  Most of the time… I let the worst of society get to me and I just feel utter disgust in myself as a person.  This is the struggle I feel daily.

All I do anymore is go week to week without any set goal other than pay my bills.  I’ve situated myself into a lifestyle where I can get away from the typical work, sleep, work, sleep routine.  I have not yet found a comfortable medium on how to enjoy my life.  I don’t.  I still don’t enjoy what I have.  I like who I am at this point, but I really don’t know how get out of this shell.  I am hiding and I don’t know what I’m hiding from any more.

Then again there is also the question of ‘when is it love and when is it lust?’  This is very difficult to decipher.  I do feel both go together well, but I want to know (for my own personal reasons) does this person have what I need and do I have something to offer?  I fully believe there is a void in everyone’s life that is filled by that special type of love.  In most relationships that I see fail it is very evident that at least one party is not doing well with the situation.  I think in love you must want to fill that void for your partner, but not in order for you to fill your own.  Selfishness is one of the biggest things I see wrong when people come to me with there relationship problems.  If you can want to bring something to someone without ever expecting a return then you have defeated the selfish action that most people take, though, this still does not constitute to perfection.  You must still be able to meet the needs of the other and vice versa, thus why it is called ‘compatibility.’

I don’t really want much more than to know that someone smiles because of me.  It is a feeling I truly miss.  No one is here for me in good or bad.  No one knows I cry.  No one knows I smile.  I just continue on as another person walking the streets (a passer-by per say) saying hello and goodbye to people that mean something, but not as much as the meaning could be if that person was the one who lives because of me.

What I want in itself is selfish.  WANT.  It just is selfish in its own meaning.  I like to look at it as ‘need.’  I need this love so I can feel stable in life.  It is how I function to my fullest.

My life is dormant and sick because I no longer function well.
My heart is a workhorse for a needless soul.
I defeat myself with constant sorrow.
A sorrow grown from negligence of my self,
And my true being that I am afraid to own.



I Never Had It Right, I Never Had It Wrong

I’ve faked my fate,
Filtered through the pain,
Found myself crying,
Huddled in myself.
My words were speaking,
But the mumbles were faint,
Gasping for breaths,
Between my crying out for you.
Atrocious the world,
Sets standards unfair,
For the fate of us all.
We all have secrets of our own.

Depth Beneath Me

A death of a persona,
My own.
I have lost my hope,
In being ever again in control.
I have faced the world,
With the truth that I still hold.
With each breath,
I lose a little more of my soul.
I fight for substance,
A test I take on my own.
I agreed to move,
But I have lost all that I’ve known.


Unto this world we find ourselves,



Ignorant of what we don’t know is there.

There are no answers,

Only solutions.

What we are will become what we were.

What we were and what once was,

May once again be real.

Future is only a time;

And presence may just be as well.

Existence is a reality.

I need no god to believe that.

I don’t live for a lord,

But for myself.

If there may be life after death,

Or even a creator,

“He”, whoever or whatever IT may be,

Did not intend for self worship.

That is arrogance.

What proof has He shown.

Nature is there and has it’s ways.

That is all I need:

A belief…that anything may happen,

When ever,

Where ever,

How ever.

That is reality.

Things happen,

And every good thing is never a miracle,

But luck.

Be happy for what you receive,

For life may be taken,

Be it you or a love,

When you think you have it all there.

For you are alive in a single amount of times.

That number is…


Ineptly Placed Personas

Such beautiful souls,

With voices,


And remarkably different goals.

A journey to be accepted,

But only as their own.

Ineptly placed personas,

Trying to fit their,

Unperfected bodies,

To break the social boundary,

And make the world their own.

To follow is denial,

Of such creative thinking,

Like opinions,


And being an identifiable entity.


Paste the claim of needed salvation,
Stuck to my skin like I don’t keep trying.
I’m not giving up ’cause that means dying.
I’m not giving up ’cause that means crying.
I’m not giving up ’cause your words are your own battle.
Your words are nothing near the truth.
False prophecies held in place by glue.

Defiant of all sense of reason,
You stretch out ‘your’ truth to get your reaction.
Creating failure by distraction.
I refuse to take to factions.
For the first time in my life, I thought for myself,
I struggled with expression,
But to you it was just ‘pathetic’.

I hold tight to the reigns.
My words are my dying expressions.. my untold progressions.
After all we are losing satisfaction.
We are losing practical family attraction.
I always knew you’d eventually tell me to get out the door.
I never knew I’d be the first one to move.
I never knew I’d lose so much to a word.

Chase Your Demons… I’m Chasing My Dreams.

I tasted my confession,
As I sat bleeding my truths all over the floor.
I’ve been alone biting my tongue,
For at least an hour now or more.

My secrets I have kept them hidden,
You hate me ’cause my words are not all for you….anymore.
I’ve grown and moved along.
I’m doing more and more and more and more!

Does it scare you to see me?
Do you have a heart that is beating?
I’ve been your child since I started breathing.
None of it ever makes any sense at all!
What kind of standards do you wish for….
What kind of standards do you wish for me?

Nothing more than simple,
I’d prefer to keep from any extra complication.
“Do what makes you happy”
My “happy” is far from your perfection.

You words were surely sore,
I tasted the sour as I slowly closed the door.
Unattached now to your presence,
Miserable, lonely, and simply forlorn.

Effort Like Its Out Of Style

The Sun, the Earth, the moon, and stars are set apart.
We link them through the power of light and dark.
Accept the truth that this is who we are.
We cite the day the world can see our scars.

Reckless are the words that seem to scream,
“We are the world and we’re at peace!”
The minds of all made up from words that we don’t think.
The voice of those who claim to be

The All Mighty Ones,
The leaders of our cause,
The supreme dictators for us all.
No one can see,
If no one can speak,
A word truthful to what they mean.
We all live in war.
Where guns are useless for,
Persuading the world to open doors.