The Butterfly.

The flower’s bloom outside, as we sit and socialize, the minutes turn to hours… the weather shifts to anew, like our complicated relationship…it’s ever-changing, and very enjoyable – within a forest, i look around, and begin to protect myself from those around. i embrace her being, her whit, her unusual personality, she’s began to fly, and visit within the forestry. i’ve cocooned – i’m not in a rush to deconstruct my thick protective layer – it suits me for the time being, a wall to keep those around out, as she ventures and flourishes and mingles with the other wildlife, i sit, wrapped in a layer of social-repellent.  However i become emotionally down due to the fact that we’re apart in maturity…. she sees me as lesser i see her as forever.  Which compels me to make things different, change, grow. as she heightens like the trees around, so do i… but she has years on me and at times i feel as a kid. and that’s the way she views me, friend zoned by a grand friend.


Running Into Feelings.

Why’s she running from me, why’s she so distant, cold? i can’t comprehend what goes through her mind, she gives signals like a radio station, high, lows. supreme feelings, but lack of effort. i admitted long ago I’m in-love. but perhaps she’s using me, I’m within a show and she’s the star, i’m a co-star in her romantic comedy. It’s hilarious for her cast, but it huts deeply, it affects me drastically, i keep chasing the love she’s promised… but she’s running and gaining speed, gaining momentum and distance… i’m feeling lost and hopeless, is she missing me? does she care? i pray that she does, i ask god for another chance, another interaction, but they’re becoming less as my heart races for her smell, her presence, her smile. her.

Narssisistic feelings.

Down in the warmth of my heart stands a beautiful, brown hair, blue eyed woman. With a gorgeous smile, a sweet, intoxicating smile that welcomes with openness. a deadly smart mind, letting you know it will be fine, you can overcome much. she carries herself with strength and individualism. she says that I’m all she wants, but i often wonder if I’m enough, if I’m worthy of such an outstanding individualist. a fine gem that overcomes one with a rush of warmth, loveliness and incredible feelings. as i describe the emotions that circulate my body – or so it feels. it often reminds me that words cannot describe something magical, they can only give a false impression, they can only hurt what magic she upholds – my soulmate.


Enemies turn friends… those who i called snakes and wolves… those who attacked and belittled me, are now on my side, fighting the battles of life with me, raising to further their vibrations. id like them to do well, conqoure their fears and make their dreams come true… they stabbed me in the back, they turned to demons, trying to make me dependent on crack. But i have a soft spot in my heart for them… and eventually all the bad theyve done, will be further-forgiven, but ill never forget what happened… ill protect myself, and always be suspicious…  wolves that were behind in life, fighting their own negative habits… need to be overwelmed and put into their spots… although theyre wolves they still know a good opportunity for a feasting… and meat we will earn… and challenges we will conqoure.

The Illusion of Thoughts.

Everyday feels warmer and brighter… each day feels anew, different, it keeps getting better than the previous day, that’s all that really matters, i tell myself. the difference creates a game-like-feel, it definitely frightens me, to be within the game of life, or possibly outside. it doesn’t change the feeling that these days are preparing me for a journey, within the higher ranks of society…. a higher position, or so the illusions tell me. I feel like an eagle amongst pigeons, or so it feels. but each day that gets better-and-better, could possibly be an illusion built upon fake beliefs, and fake memories, because each memory stems from the brain, and i have schizophrenia…. a life built upon the fakes of a mind, is unstable, and could possibly come down with a swift-blow. it’s traumatizing to think of, so i never really do any serious thinking upon that question… i live to heighten my perspective; learning, thinking. although its funny that i do so much work on my mind yet i’m very insecure about the stability of my mind… but it’s what i fell in-love with, within my life… and it is enjoyable to think that your brain could make a drastic difference within life. or be a complete failure… I’m standing on a thin line, between n reality and fiction and sometimes those two collide, illogical-logical, mindset. built around extremely crazy phobias. makes you wonder if all this is for nothing… 


Friendless, broken, money’s short…. if i could re-write time, i would have chosen another path…. a less enlightened one… a simple life…. if i could rewrite time… i would have gone to school for my passion, sure the passion would be non existent or so it seems.but is mine more well? or is it simply an illusion. it would have been much different, instead of being chosen to go about tasks, i would have simply went about tasks… i wouldn’t be drinking this beer, until i need a liver transplant… but it makes me think of peace… so i keep this ’round… in this grime apartment, searching for a light to come save me… i would be able to save myself… and it would have felt right, my personality would have felt right… instead if feels skewed, not consistent with what i think… the only thing that makes this miserable… “enlightened” path worth keeping, worth being alive with. is my girl… but the annoying part, I’m unsure whether or not she wants me… she could be another illusion gripping me to another life, another personality… some hopeless hope. my life founded on mirrors, many illusion, reconstructing my view, personality… a change that has been happening my whole life… I’m not happy i tell myself.

Man In Blue

The time is always turning ’round. But not a lot is changing, it’s another season, another time – it feels like i missed half of the year – ive been dedicated and moving along with my many goals, projects… my brain is transforming into some kind of flowery goodness, or so the man on the bus says. my face doesnt seem to be aging, my hands remain vain free. But im still focused on the time disappearing, and my money situation and some of the decisions i make aren’t 100% mine. They are taking the back seat of the bus. One where the driver can no longer see – he’s very aware im within the bus. Im trying to let the driver know that im trying my best to be in his position with my finances, friendships, goals… but he commands that i take my seat… he doesnt quite understand that its not his bus to control.. eventually ill stand up and be the man in blue commanding the bus…. getting others in a place where they’ll eventually be the driver as well… moving towards a big goal, finding their own philosophies as a subsection of mine. Isnt that what a good teacher wants? To have a fleet of half-way followers. They command things, i just motivate. And one day, during one of these disappearing seasons ill do something astonishing for them, the ones i call family and friends. That will give my time disappearance meaning. I have hope and that’s why i keep moving forward with being the man in blue, the man driving the bus… one day, it will all make sense, my life will have much meaning other than achievements and money… and maybe the time will stand still for a few moments… so i can appreciate all that ive done… but this is a dream, but for now the clock moves quickly, i get older and the time moves onwards.


As i walk to the bean, i notice two ducks. within the river, beside the path that id travel, two and back to cafe beans. It was a cold december day, the breeze running through my hair, chilling my body temprature once again… those ducks left my sight, so i continued onwards to the bean. I met up with the others within, as usual i theyd ask me for cigarettes, chat as the smoke decreased in length… and it was gone within 5 minutes… that chat was over…. we all ventured into the bean, i took my seat at the back, them around the table… i felt used once again, in hopes of making a new friendship, as the months grew, our conversations became longer… our communicating seemed rather enjoyable, i felt a bond. One day within the spring, i was walking to the bean once again… and i felt a happiness that i havent felt in a while, it grew as the months grew rapidly. I thought to myself, ive found friends. Theyre great. I saw them once again that day, at a coffee shop i no longer go to… and i said hey todd, the usual happened, the smoke exchange… but this time it felt like we were buddies, they accompinied me home, and we began to converse, back-and-forth, the conversation getting rather deep… i enjoyed the times… the moments we shared grew and grew… to the point where theyd come daily, for 3 days in a row… i was often drunk. But one day they took out a pill, a vallium, i was told it was something lesser, wasnt addictive, decreased anxiety which i needed. So i enjoyed a few of them that day… the next day i saw them again… more pills, more booze. The times were enjoyable i felt an honest friendship between them, did they? The next day… they were hassling me, i didnt think anything different, little hassling, good talks. On our way to grab something, he showed me much, pawn shops, break and entering. we went to a drugdealer with the newly hassled money, another lie…. cocaine… i snorted it. He left in a rush… but left behind some pink pills, the eurphoria, excellated in height, i nodded my head to the music, without a care in the world…


I questioned the shiness and durability of the rock, and my perspective and understanding spiralled into chaos. All of the destructive behaviour that i overlooked all made sense… prositution, break and entry, a fading life and future… as i smoke crack, rock after rock, my future felt fading as the withdrawls became much more, and i felt a panick that ive havent felt in long, all because i wanted a new buddy….


i drink the beer. it remains awful, highly addictive… but the toxicity, and nastiness…. remains a guilty pressure… i grow closer to the deadly substance… as it rips apart the seams of my life… every thread i lose is shortening my time with my loved ones, my girl, the cat… they’re all counting on me to succeed to better their worlds, heighten their horizons, but they don’t know that every sip is the pressure that i can’t say no too… they’re expectations are ripping apart the beautiful fabric of my mind. every sip is interfering with how my brain functions, its killing cells and functions… yet i sip once more… happy with feeling numb, unalert….. relaxed.

The girl

I’m tired of our back-and-forth signs, love. our mysterious, yet concrete, deceptive love. id love to understand the mysteries you hold within, yours flaws, your mistakes, your vulnerable times. they’re important to me, I’ve learned to care about the whole picture of character. the soft details like you’ve showed me, are some of your most magical, because they’re relatable, and add depth to how i see you. you’re building resistance, while I’m trying to conquer them. but you’re becoming more and more mysterious, at the same time who you are is unfolding, i knew i was attached mentally, for sometime, i see your face in other women, i play songs that remind me of your presence over-and-over. they’re upbeat, heart-warming and musical