I've always admitted to myself I'm a coward.
I get nervous and anxiety easier than it is to buy a whore with a buck. i cant throw a punch. and spiders still make me wanna piss myself.
i can take a hit but id rather not get hit and for some reason still flinch.
and i always laugh at the fact that i've had men 3 times my size stare me down ready to fight. i've had lanky shits with bony fists ready to fight. i've had white trash 6th year seniors, muscular shits, who probably bro grope their hockey buds, get right up into my face with their stinky ass shit breath and threaten to beat me so hard to some sort of analogy of near death or unrecognizable condition.
and every time this happens. i puff my chest and stare them down back.
i dont get why i actually do it. i know most of the shit i say is all bull. i'm sure they could call my bluff. and minus one punch from a kid who later in life got raped in juvie ive never been caught up in a fight. for some odd reason they all ended the same way.
they walk away orsome girl stops them or someone with the idea of authority steps in.
but i've always acted tough back. tell them to bring it. i call them pussies, white trash, fat shits, stupid fuckheads and try to puff out my skinny non buff chest.
and when it's done and nothing happened. sometimes people come up to me and tell me how shocked they were at how i acted. how they knew i was going to lose.
ive never been in a real fight. i've always dodged them. i'm a fucking coward. i dont care that im a coward. these kids kept telling me they thought i was stupid but brave. and i always laughed at that cause these assholes never saw how bad my knees shook.

self obsveration

my brain is snapping away like a bottle rocket.
speewwwwwin sparks about in flowery like shapes too.
air around paying attention less.
these things never mattered. i'm burning the grass as i hit bottom.
the heat rose me up. warmth in my chest.
it may sound crazy but i think i actually got somewhere.
metaphorically i mean.

at this point...
lines etched and scratched thru were all apart of the same flat appearance that i witnessed.
nothing felt disconnected or separated. all just a slap of different shades. i didn't feel like i reached the rise in this scenery. just avoided the lumps of people in the way.
but it's funny how different people see themselves to me. it really is.

ruff draff

i've never had the usual sort of problems people deal with. correction. i dont have what people think are problems to bitch about.
-i sat here. alone. looking out a window where a breeze took control of the clouds directions. i didn't feel right.-
my issues were spiritual conflicts. inner self. connections with the world. myself. how i saw things. what i felt were right.
-i heard birds chirping. i blared my music up higher and read a book. the words felt more powerful when the outside world had no effect on me.-
everything in my brain was cluttered. in my opinion felt more cluttered than the rest of the worlds clutter. simple things were strenuous mentally for me.
-pages werent blank. but they ended up so anyways. i toss aside the book. i step outside and let the breeze take me away with the clouds.-
i felt like i needed answers. i didnt want desires for answers. i killed my desire for structored beleifs. heading that way in life too.
-my music still blared. the street felt non existant thru my shoes. i could feel the heat tho. and the humidity in the wind. i felt like i was dying.-
everything else in life was starting to become unimportant. anything i didnt feel connected too felt like an illusion. my connections were running thin.
-i saw cars burst by. saw people walking the road. strangers in a single shell roaming to me what felt aimlessly. i wondered who they were. their stories they could tell.-
i felt more apathetic. my road felt paved but now was turning to gravel and dirt. i shifted in my thoughts more than what i think people normally did. i would never really know.
-minus the heat and wet air i think today is beautiful. it felt that way in the way a subtle breeze does. it wasnt like hitting a wall. life was just swirling around me and i loved it more for being unkown to me.-
i was more alone than i ever was. like sitting on a bus full of close friends slowly getting off their stops going their way. i felt like i existed alone. riding out this line.
-the wind carried me as far as it would. i stepped down and carried myself back to my house. my eyes adjusted to this shell of a home. it never felt sweet. just relaxing.-
i didn't care. my joys were coming in new colors i think. i am a child. young in thought. always will be. ill learn and destroy knowledge. i didn't have problems. i was lost.
being lost is fine. frustrating. but fine. im evolving. im a child. just searching for a smile.

old writing ruff draff

the ways of my past came up to me pretending to be perfected angels. i was sick of it. i spent my time ignoring it. but they crept in closer and closer touching the very energy of being inside me. i couldnt contain it some days. they were trying to convince me it was the way, the path to salvation.
"fuck that! ive burnt away the way, ive stampeded over it. ive destroyed salvation and found my own way. there is no way but where i step and create it with my own blistering feet!"
but ghost never go away. i could tell they wouldnt any time soon. so i searched for my demons so i could live like a free man. i searched for sages to feel the true balance. i searched for buddhas to find my own enlightment. i searched for mother earth to feel one with my roots. i talked to philosiphers, teachers, mentors, burnt their flame on a candle then licked it out.
"im escaping" i keep whispering to myself. im getting closer. but ghosts never go away. and i can still feel them gripping at my heart. so i keep on walking and walking. blazing trails as i go along. trying to step a little further ahead.
"am i getting there?" i keep asking myself "am i really getting there?"
in closey behind my ear i hear a faint whipser "no..."...and then there was silence.

why i enjoy being drunk so much...

if my thoughts were many different colors of paint.
take the paint and dab many dots all around a blank surface that would be my brain.
cover it in a chaotic mess overlapping and cluttering everything.
then take a brush which would be the alcohol and swirl and swish all the paint.
into one blurry slick mess.
thats why.