r3lz

The feeling in the pit of my stomach: it’s not right.
The wrong song is playing.
The light is too strong.
My right knee knows there is something wrong.
My bones are slightly less dense than they should be.
My eyelid understands the amount of offness there seems to be.
And I’m pretty sure I’ve started to invent words.

The world
spiiiiiiiiiiiins.
Today my stomach is incredibly unstable
I’m incredibly happy
content
I want to write an eleven page letter.
I want to tell you everything.
I’m dancing.
Thinking about hair.
Wanting paper and pen and thinking in sentences that make no sense.
I’m tired
and hyper
and slowly slipping
into the empty vases
laid around the room
Flowers fading in and out
not solid
not really there
illusions?
My mind is probably too intense for you
BAM.

Being a teenager sometimes means being a vampire. Sleeping all day and having this ridiculous energy at night.

My room is clean.
My grande peppermint mocha is gone.
My book has turned to the last page.
My notebook is only halfway full.
My computer is singing to me.
The dog is restless.
The lights are quivering in the dark.
My mind is racing.
The reporters are anxious.
The journalists are scurrying through their articles.
Late night college students study through pages and pages of knowledge.
Coffee in hand, light on desk, warm socks, and the comfort of a future.
The musician with his hand on the neck of a beautiful guitar,
Plays renditions of past loves and future tidings.
Strangers brush shoulders.
Fingerprints slip through library books.
Taken and forgotten under a pile of thoughts left eschew on carpeted floor.

The world is strange.
Definitely at 3 in the morning
From this angle.

And as I lay in a cemetery of fallen monuments
History restores itself
Damp grass making its way through my tights
Sharp drops of rain assailing.

Washington on a horse charging through broken statues
The sun breaking through the cracks
In an honest Abe.

Freedom in the march of men from slavery
Who seem to be the same grey cement color
As any other man in this establishment.

Scriptures placed between tombstones of treaties and agreements
When the Lusitania sank it left fingerprints on the oceans edge
Just enough for a guest book placed somewhere in this cemetery
Broken under a cherry tree
Too sweet for the wine.
The poison of a generation
The harsh burn down throats
But darling, don’t worry, speak easy sleep easy.

The fall of a nation
The rise of dust
The clouds of smoke carved into marble
As the houses go down the unity erects
The faith bestows
Strength in numbers
And numbers in strength.

Bugs laced through gates of water
Trust lost through open ears
Because ignorance is bliss
And no one wants to be happy

In this point blank paradigm
I’m watching as Uncle Sam
Wants me
To fly through colors
And stain tidal waves of blood into the thread of countries
Sewn together
Torn apart.

When the only reason I’m shivering in November
Is the ice edge of Russia’s cold trust
Spying nations
Slamming iron fists
And creating equality for the worse
For the theory of
Tenderness
Stricken through streets
Burning footprints into sidewalks
Creating lists
Of shaky hands and accusing fingers
Prisoners in your own country
Thought behind bars
Think inside of the box
Outside of the box
As long as the outside and inside have no thought of communism.

I’m watching the sky change colors
And the cemetery turn dark
I’m hearing the voices of our forefathers
And the thoughts of our citizens
I watch as our economy digs a grave
And the men in the orange coats
Camouflage jackets
Paid by our tax money
Taxed by our payers
Dig up the cemetery of our history
Crack the statues of our morals
Tear down the scriptures of our truth
To check if there is any oil
Underneath this bare stricken earth.

Do I like paper and pen more than clicks and a hand that can keep up with my mind?
I’m trying to find where my dreams went
Lost in the piles of clothes and crumpled paper
on my floor?
Locked in a jar beneath the floor boards of my room?
On a chair in an airport where I waited for a little too long
Thinking a little too much.

I’m trying to remember where I placed my motivation
Lost in the papers full of words
Of goals and future endeavors
Of explanations on life and the universe
In between files and folders tucked away in empty buildings
crawling through metal panels
wiggling its way into the machines that used to creak to life

I’m trying to remember where I lost my path
Dusty roads turned to twists and turns and all of a sudden there was no road beneath my feet
Only rubble and the earth
No man-made guide was resting beneath my gravity pulled feet

My car is out of gas
And my glass is out of tea
My notebook is full
And the new one is laying
SIlent
Untouched

Hi. I’m gonna blog for once. Not write poetry. BLOG. One sec. Bathroom break. Loud Music. Loud Loud Loud. Red Nails. Black Hair. Obsessed with tanning? Maybe. I want to paint. Do you? I’ve changed changing today everyday changing running roaming never ending sentences always running on sentence running on words. Lately my life has been consumed with painting my nails, painting canvas’, writing in notebooks, planning, going to the gym, tanning, and just driving. Driving I love driving. After a long day at work to step on that gas pedal give such satisfaction. Makes me feel like the best pointe dancer on the road. Like the world is a stage and my car is the center piece. Painting strokes with the tires and creating masterpieces in the curves.

That’s all for now.

xoxo

Still objects drag themselves through days
Typewriters are reminded of the not so familiar fingertips that once tapped so elegantly on them
Pieces of paper and daily distractions discard themselves
On plush carpets
while rivulets of time drip through the cracks in the corner of a roof too sturdy to fall
Cold legacies hide in books hiding in overstuffed bookcases fit in too close together to hide their meanings and stories
Vowels shrivel toneless on paper crumbled in neat piles laid eschew next to-under-on top but never inside trash cans
Soldiers walk back and forth between the horizons of life and death and those things no one thinks about
Musicians pick piano keys until the smoothness of silence fills the melody to a perfect standstill
Photographers capture worlds only seen through their eyes and only known by their cameras
A relationship too perfect to describe
The writer sits down to write a masterpiece and through their pens fall words useless to their dream
Children remind themselves to behave and continue the path carved so elegantly for them by those who dont know them
While politicians stare in mirrors remembering when the truth was so easy to decipher

I won’t I won’t give up my minutes
How many minutes until you give up your time
Because inspiration comes in spurts of never being able to tell time
or more, what time are you looking for?
How much do you have?
Why do you have that much and why arent you spending your time doing something more valuable
How can you measure value?
What’s important to you
A twist of words and metaphors that stick into one poem
A poem that flows through one message
A message that means something
Or words
Words are important to you
of Course words are important to you
But how important are the words you use
And if they are so important why doesn’t everyone carry around a dictionary
Just to tell everyone how they really feel
So they can take out their little pocket dictionary while they sift through thoughts and words to EXACTLY express themselves
Express themselves
Why do people need to express themselves
How come our bodies are big enough to handle disease
And water
And blood
And nerves
and the millions and millions of veins and arteries but we can’thandle our own emotions to ourselves
To ourselves
Keep it to yourself
Ok?
Good. Bye.

Has anyone ever said that to you? I’d just like to have a moment of your time.

I’m not sure if I want to give something so precious away.

Random sentences are about to erupt. Ready. Set. Here is our mind.
Chris doesn’t think he is artistic.
This Jamba Juice made my tummy hurt.
It;s starting to get hot.
And cold
Outside
inside.
Chris checks his phone.
Relz neck hurts.
Purple bananas take showers with raspberry sauce.
That’s whats up.
I don’t know, nothing much, you?
Always happens.
Everyone does it.
We got a good thing going.
How come no one likes James Blunt?
Dawg. Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone
Only darkness every day
The sun is setting and the energy drink is fading and it’s time to wake up.
I’ve been asleep for so long.
Long
Enlongment
Random words mispelled.
Occur quiet often in blogs that are soon to be posted for the world.interweb.to see.
Chris has nothing to say.
Say to nothing
Words jumble with their little pinky fingers.
Where are you going in life
Sometimes I don’t know where I’m going and I can’t find which direction I’m heading.
But don’t worry
I have an iPhone app for that
It’s called a compass.
21st century digital boy.
my birthday is extremely soon.
Soon.
Can you tell?
Really soon.
Lets burn an EPIC CD!
Ok?
Yes.
Peace Out.
Comment me random sentences.