Tired

Fuck this shit, I’m tired

I just want to sleep

Fuck what you have to say because all you feed me is false dreams

You don’t play with my head

You don’t give me something to play with

You exist an object that embodies the impact interactions with normal people are meant to have on the individual: death on the inside

We kill ourselves trying to give to others because the world truly doesn’t care

While someone in a classroom somewhere ineffectively commands a room with empty words another person feels the reality that no one else truly understands them

We have out own demons, crazy we don’t have one

Ever wondered why we have more than one demon?

The world is full of them

No religion can keep them away because we are the demons

We exist to kill each other and find meaningless connections in a reality too complex for our small brains

And no one actually cares enough to help unless the’yre benefitting

So fuck you if you think that talking to me will help

You are a demon, and bitch like everyone else

I’ll stop saying fuck when I’m dead

And I’ll only stop then because when I’m dead I can’t be fucking tired of people’s shit

Kill Words

Everything is a process,

Everything takes time,

Rome wasn’t built in a day

There are only twenty four hours in the day

Whatever other shit people say doesn’t make me find motivation

I’m all over the place and still can’t feel motivated

What I do for myself is what drives me to be creative

My creativity is not born from happiness, and it’s my worst flaw

It means I draw on being unhappy to create, and in turn I dive deeper into that dark place

The strange result of diving into the darkness inside my mind is that I feel better

But feeling better and motivated are two different things

I want to find motivation but don’t know where it is

No one can provide it for me, so I have to find it myself

Fuck your words because they sure as fuck don’t help

If I explain what I’m feeling then it as an excuse to go ignore me and seek solice in someone else

Words kill

Actions motviate

Kill words and let actions speak

Two Hands

Two hands ended our relationship

Two hands started our relationship

My hands touched yours

Your hands touched mine

I felt an undeniable connection with you

And that connection I feel like we’ll have for life

We learned to use our hands to hurt

We used our hands to love

The connection between us was so strong I could almost call you a drug

You were the one on top, almost always taking the lead

Always taking the time it was you looking out for what I needed

Time has made me a strange mixture of the results of time with you and interactions with the world

The world sucks

You were right about the world: what you like and how you feel things should be done do not match up

We’re the ones on the outside of society because our beats are drastically different than what they march to

We don’t march

We shoot our intentions into the air and hope that nothing happens to us or anyone else as they fall

We care, but we care in a different way

We don’t want a lot of damage but somehow it always happens

I can speak for both of us and say that we want each other’s hands again

You still probably punch like a guy.

Tell My Story

You made every campfire a blazing inferno by walking in the room

It was like you had an undeniable heat that made flames dance as if you commanded them

I’m surprised that I wasn’t a burn victim after four years with you!

You knew everything about me and understood what to do when I had no clue what was going on

You took the reigns when I decided to put them down and drove me in the right direction

You told me things in the way I understood and didn’t think twice

You were and always will be my number one

Going back to you isn’t an option

We would have too many kids and nowhere near enough money or time to acommodate all of them

Life was an adventure with you that was not a chore

You taught me to be fearless

After you I wanted to be the fearless one who took the world on without thinking twice

It took a long time to get there, but I think I found what I wanted

Fear held me back for a long time, and you kept me going when times got rough

There’s someone who does that for me now and reminds me a lot of you, she’s the best

You put me on a tough path, but it was the one I needed

Thank you

I want you to tell my story

Miss not good Enough

I like to think that you know you’re more than good enough,

But you don’t see it, and I wonder if you ever will

Raised to survive instead of thrive you learned to settle

If life was about settling, then you would be set

Nothing is ever easy, and convenience will make you lazy

What you feel in your mind is not always right,

Your mind is your deadliest weapon and worst enemy

I doubt that’s somehing you’ll ever see

Where you are is relative, and how you think is absolute

Believe something strongly enough, positive or negitive, and it will materialize

But talking to ourselves is the hardest part

Sometimes we talk to other people in an attempt to fix something when we need to talk to ourselves

Tell yourself that you need discipline to the point that you kill the people who care about you is no way to accomplish your goal

Discipline is not deprivation

Discipline is knowing yourself enough to see the world for what it is, and know who and what to avoid

One harsh reality is that no one is perfect,

Another is that people who care will be there, even if you don’t want them to be sometimes,

And they mey even tell you a lot of things that go over your head until you are at your lowest point

Value those people and realize their flaws are only there to make you like them more for everything they do to be there when it seems like no one else will

You’re good enough.

You don’t tell yourself that when you should

You’re critical when compassion should take its place

You are a good person who isn’t in a great situation

You’re the only person who can say “I’m good enough”

And no matter what, I want to hear you say it

You think you’re born to lose, but we aren’t born to fail

We learn to think that we can fail, and it hurts us in the long term if no one helps us understand how to grow as a person,

And grow in our own way

You’re good enough.

Say it with me.

My Routine is Swimming in the Pipe

You tell me to find comfort in routine

I can establish that for myself

But somehow I’m supposed to be content with someone selling me pipe dreams

Most people end up smoking something out of a pipe outside of your tiny world called a classroom

I think you’re responsible for leading them to that self-destructive pipe

The world is my classroom

You confine me to your miserable corner of the universe where you claim to be helping the world by rules

And the rules are only there to reinforce obedience

And the people who reinforce those rules are not the ones who like them, but they use them to claim respect

They went to college and earned a degree only to grow old and be shat on by society

People want freedom

A lot of people refuse to chase freedom

Freedom is not what we want, but what we make

Routine keeps us sane, but it is not what we think it is

Routine by definition is structure, but structure only provides us with legs to stand on

I would rather habe my own legs and know what they’re made of rather than deal with the shit you give me

You value other people based off of what you can get and see the opinions of others as gold

Some people are to be treated like gold, and others are simply there to sit under you

Only a fool sits in a classroom and stays under someone who probably isn’t happy with their life

Provide all the knowledge you want but don’t make it from a book

Teach about life, and provide real tools that help someone succeed.

You’ve failed as a teacher if your students don’t go out into the world with a new perspective

Fuck your books.

Fuck your tests.  

Life tests me more than any book ever will.

And I want to pass the test of life.

Too bad I can’t study for that.

Fuck your school.