Ques?ion

you smell nice,
you look good,
you're smart,

You're hungry,
I have food.

I hate you,
You hate it when people hate you.

I own a puppy...

no ships to protect
this lump
of coal.

Chewed up,
digested,
forgotten.

Cast off into a leaky abyss,
forced to mingle,
forced to dilute,
forced to merge.

lost himself
within others
with others
without himself.

But I will return.
I have returned,
and though forgotten,
I do not care.

One little shit cannot fight the strength
of one massive wave.
So I tear myself apart,
and put myself back together.

then, I return.
Digest me again.

oh what a funny thing
is sight.

when those with sight
go blind.
then regain their sight,

what do they miss most?

no Mistakes,
,hathaway. Miss
no Mistakes.

naughledge is a slow runner,
-or fast jogger

as slowstidious is the opposite of scorn
AM i THE OPPOSITE OF TRUST.

this is ME
Me am untrustful of I
I am untrstworthy
what sayest thee?

iF THOU TRUSTETH ME
then shall myself will I trust
then in myself I will trust

dear sir.
of what nonsense dost thou speak?

oh ms.pORTMAN
of the fifth of novembeR
remember, remember,
shall i now recall?

must i now remember
the fifth of november?
the failed fireworks
fraught full of frail
ferocity?

elated emotion emerging,
even excessively...

deemed dillusional,
distracted,
down, drab,

captured.

now now,
all will remember
the fifth of november
not for the success
but the failure.

dear sir.
what is this metafor phor?

That's a
bizzare scar.

She said.

I looked in the mirror.
yah.

yes, that IS narcissism J
but what would you be like
without it?

i know i can,
i know i can,
i swear i can,
i know i am.

waste, and want.
but there is always want.

want is good.
want motivates, and dictates
success.

But what is more narcissistic;
acceptance of failure
or denial of it?

I accept it as a token, a trade off
for future success.
so is it logic? or is that logic flawed?

Until I know,
into the pool
i look...

tell me if i sound
like an 8 year old
broken hearted
tear soaked child.

because
on some days
the 8 year old
broken hearted
tear soaked child

needs to be free to cry.

fall upon my blade
as it does pierce

planting tolerance,
intolerance,
sound nourishment.

soft
when the heart
has forgiv'n

call romeo,
he'll tell you.

death can never
do us part

no win.
no fun.

who plays
to lose?

who plays
to tie?

losing is
not fun.

who loses,
loses fun.

who ties
loses fun.

the win
is fun.

who plays
to lose?

think vitals
is it vital? no.

same topic, later time
is it vital? yes.

such is my reality

emotions run thick through the demented fog,
the offspring,
the children of obsession.

the gentle brother insomnia,
the graceful sister paranoia,
the humble sister infatuation.

This is the scion of obsession.
This triple bladed sword.
The woe men
construct into
misconstrued dillusions.

the cries that converse,
bend,
create illusion.

Disapprove desires,
my fair lady,
and they will follow.
oh yes,
they will follow

no time to be profound
smoke less
more coffee
less sleep
too much time

this city never sleeps
toronto is me

the concrete slabs
the buildings
reach out
like rock-hard vines
and embrace...


3AM downtown lights
speak of a sorrowful determination

the buildings
cages
the trapped
freedom
all the time in the world
still rushing

such is this paradox
such is my city

why can i not write
four fucking nights
it just doesnt happen

does this essay matter?
does it effect anything remotely important to me?
no.

So what the fuck.

but wait

what the fuck is remotely important to me?

the haze falls
covering the covenant.
it's getting late

slow the compressions.
slowly leave impressions.
slowly, surely sink,
until loss of effervescence.

agnosticism is not of my soul,
yet no longer do I dictate,
determine,
or resemble,
control.

Scratch that last bit about the Raptors winning

No sex.
No Drugs.
No Rock n' Roll.

atleast the Raptors are winning...

Speak before you can talk
Run before you can walk
Kill before you can hurt
Smile before you can feel.
Smile before you can feel..
Smile...

This hunger,
this insatiable hunger.
Still unsatisfied,
it's been forever
yet still rotting within.
not viceral, no.
wrought. wrought by desire.
I'm still hungry

I used to believe that i knew all that the world had to offer, but since then I've soon learned otherwise. I've learned that the world is a big place. I've learned that, in this world, getting hurt isn't just a part of life, but rather a fact of it.

I've learned the value of friends, of family, and of living for tomorrow, not yesterday. I've learned to trust myself; but most of all, I've learned to trust God.