It’s placed at the end of eternity
But the fearful ones try anyway
A faithful reaching done in vain
Their lives that could be, grossly hang
From this old sage, the ancient tree
Thriving ludicrous philosophies
The marked fools are all in line
Dream-full, in their prime and picked to die
I am a distant witness
My excitement keeps me kind
For what each breath may, or not, mean
They still will not ask why, and
I hear the moonlight weep
For all those bodies squashed beneath
The hollow voices of ripened souls
Down this devil’s throat
One of those days I understand too well why I have no friends.
Posted in Art with tags Art, family, Thoughts on November 4, 2009 by imaginaryfears
A painting for my mother…
Went to a volunteer interview today. I’m actually very excited about the department I’ll be assigned (hopefully) a position. The collection and research part of this massive and extremely impressive museum in my city. It’s the perfect distraction from the nowhere my life is going and I’ll learn some new skills about something I’m interested in. Anyway, I won’t speak about everything else that’s been going on for fear of it falling apart before it even gets started….I’m trying to keep myself balanced. Don’t get too high on hope and don’t sink all the way just yet. And for that, I’m ready for whatever happens. If the door opens I’m going through it no matter what, and if not–well I’ve got a good fix for that too.
Are Horrible. Even more so when people, family, have forgotten. But that wouldn’t matter so much if I weren’t around to know it. I just need to be put somewhere.
Get rid of this pain Put my faith into something
Maybe these pills,
Then I’ll be alright
Or this knife; Maybe then I’ll sleep tonight
Within this lonely place
I’ve been still with every lie
And as I sleep in dark escape I’ll wake ready to die.
This is something I painted a few weeks ago. I think it goes with this poem alright enough. It’s also the image I have as my blog header.
To Pieces
Soaked by the falling rain
The bottom of a shoe
Always in my face
The live body
The prison cell
Each heartbeat marks
The bars of hell
Release this fury –trace with knife
Along my throat, along my thigh
Those precious blood ways I outline
Tomorrow at the back of mind
Pull my arms and legs apart,
Peel away my veins
Nowhere am I beautiful
My bruised dead face
I dream the open window
My several stories high
I’ve opened everything up
I’ve eaten all my insides
I’m licking at each bone
I bite to pieces,
Here alone
I really don’t have much to say anymore about my life. I don’t see past a year from now. This doesn’t change. I think I’m going to give up looking for a job right now as I don’t even understand how I’m able to function during the day. There’s nothing keeping me together and to be honest I’m having brief moments where I’m all about the details in how to get rid of myself, they’re getting into my dreams again. Things are just so messed up. I should be seeing the good I’ve been given and try to make something of myself, but I can’t get past just not being able to care, just not wanting to be here in the first place. And I feel I’d be doing everyone a favor if I killed myself–sooner rather than later.
This is the painting I finished a week ago. I wanted to show something about what I hold onto. Everything that hurts basically. And like in the one before this, the person represents one greater than what I am now. What I could be, except in this one she’s with dark around the eyes and a black shape for a mouth representing silence. I didn’t plan this painting out too well, but I think that’s why I liked working on it so much. Even though I didn’t know where I was going with it, I worked in detail, so at least I can feel good about that.
I’ve written more than I have in months from my computer being out so many days. I’ll have some of that up soon hopefully. I’m trying my best not to fall apart as I look back on this past year, my birthday being around the corner and all. I didn’t want the circumstances to be the same, but I have not done enough on my part to deserve a change. And another years is just hard to think about right now.
This is a painting I finished a month ago. It’s taken me that long to really understand what I even created, but I think I know now. This is a figure I take as representing the person I could be being taken down. Attacked, blinded by darkness, without arms representing a lack of control, and the white shape of the mouth represents how the words being spoken are always lost to the surrounding noise and confusion (explaining the white, red, sharp background). Otherwise, it’s just a weird and slightly creepy picture that really has nothing more to offer. I don’t know why I spend time painting anymore really. I don’t do it for money or for people to like me. But maybe it’s so that I can feel I have something to call my own right now. As useless and undeserving as I feel, that’s all I can say.
I wrote something to go along with this that I’ll post later, if I can get my computer to act right for once.
I love this song. Listening to the stings almost makes me cry…lol. The arrangement is so beautiful.
And here is some writing I’ve been working on.
(still no title)
I don’t regret this
Broken stare, and
I won’t forget,
I taste them tearing open
Appalled at my whole life
Those feel of words that flash across your eye
They say to think I’m wrong is right
But still you want into my mind
Yet you’re so scared to see
The changing shades within the haze
You still cannot believe just how
Sick my world is leaning
And as any other fool, not knowing what they do
My darkened presence you’ve excused as weightless
Consuming so few; a spell of common sorrow
—don’t we all go through?
With my fresh wounds
Bright above their blue
Be free and hate me
Better for the truth
And this next one was written for no other purpose except for release. I was so upset when I started it, and it probably makes no sense, but that’s no surprise…
I say ‘be better than you are
Don’t make these kinds of mistakes
These human mishaps-
Don’t be human
But you never do learn.’
Everyone deserves to live? Are you sure?
Ignore what makes you seem like another good being
And tell me the truth
Only if you see it as a gift.
Only if you think there’s nothing’s better than to live
Maybe I’m right where I should be
Here with tears, in misery
I don’t deserve a thing
Looking at myself in this telling mirror
Dim light to catch my face at all the wrong places
I never asked you, God. I never wanted.
Creases here and under there, I am so tired
The lean of that one ugly eye
Just close them both forever
I’m never going to see the way they do, the way I’m told to
There’s been another plan here
Passed slowly, from sin to sin
Like an ice cold cloth ready to shield me
Or a voice kind enough to speak
Of the beauty I do see
In death , of end, in all conclusions
For all that’s not allowed to breathe
You save me from this trouble
Each failure, every future sun
Tall in their rejection,
I am lit and brightened
Easily burned away
Nothing special. Things are up in the air right now and I’m just waiting to see where it leaves me.
Posted in poems with tags Art, poems, poetry on October 2, 2009 by imaginaryfears
Based on another little sketch.
I don’t have much to say really. I’m doing okay. Drawing on my last piece of ply wood is taking up good time, distraction and all that. Oh, and I’ve had another chance to finish recording a song I wrote. With the way my house is, it’s hard to get time where its totally quiet. My recorder picks up everything.
This poem doesn’t have a title yet. I’m still writing a lot, I’m just going slow with editing. It’s like I write then throw it somewhere and have it sit for days, anyway…
The last I wished them goodnight
I’d been writing my goodbye
But somehow the lamp was thrown
And broke into its pieces
Nothing else is life except
Our grief in empty reasons
You are my only friend
Your hands stay tight around my neck
Kill me, I’ve been begging you
And you’re trying your best
Real beyond my trepidation
You have my grave here in this dark
In your soul, your airlessness
At the end of all my lives
After three days I finally finished it. It’s painted on a $4 piece of ply wood that was almost flat…anyway, I like how it turned out. I have another piece of wood left and I need a better idea as to what I could try. Hopefully it’ll come to me.
My mind is in pieces but I am still trying to volunteer. Every time I let the thought that something will actually go right creep into my head, it falls through. Seriously though, where do I go from here? I can’t find work, and in this stupid ass city of all places, hospitals left and right knowing they need help, no one contacts me about my volunteer applications, or they do and everything has to be delayed for some shit reason.
And the people here? I want nothing to do with. If another person steps to me in the wrong way, I swear to God… It’s as if this whole city is waiting for someone to snap. It takes all my will these days not to bitch slap everyone that opens their mouth to me. I tell my mother it’s depression, that I’m doing my best, this is just how it is without medication to numb my emotions and block my thoughts. She still seems to think it’s not as serious as it is, that all I need to do is get out of the house more often. That’s true, but I’m sure she wouldn’t be talking to me as if that’s all I need to do if she were to see the latest injury on my arm. I know it’ll leave a nasty scar (had no caution, didn’t even care exactly where it was placed, I just did it).
Yeah, I’m in pieces. Back to having no patience with people, random tears, and contemplating a plan to get out. I feel bad. My birthday is in less than a month. Just thinking about that… I don’t know why it makes me feel so down.
