I stare at a barren empty street. The crooked beams of light filter from a voracious lens and bath the pavement in amber.  A bench as ancient as the blood around it rests under the streetlight.Theres a man sitting on the bench. Back hunched, hands shaking as the delicate cigarette vomits ash and fire. The ashes, they fall so freely, dancing upon the breeze as they swoop past me and disappear into the darkness of the neighboring homes. His shoulders are scarred and mangled. His body is decrepit and broken. He shakes, and shakes, and shakes as his breath grows cold and cracked. He chuckles under his breath. His lips smile as his eyes weep. Smoke slips past his simper and curls around his furrowed brow. I watch him murmur, i watch him fidget in the cold. His existence, his experience all spilling and swirling in front of him. I wonder what races through his mind as he frantically watches life soak into the cement. Does he regret? Is he afraid? Does the life that pours before him satisfy? I wonder what he looks for in that pool. Does he fear god will be unsatisfied? Or no, i see it now. I see the look in his eye. I see a perfect sadness. A sadness that comes from joy. A sorrow of sacrifice. What terrific pains must be bleeding out of him. his body filters out the woe and misery, the greed the gluttony, the selfish antagonized process that curdled his mind into a deliberately destructive poison. he watches all the poisonous wounds that plagued him for years. They scream at him as the disappear in the amber. I see the realization in his face. he sees his own death, on some lonely bench, in the heart of a cold city. He knows he will die alone and cold. He knows that no one will ever know what he sacrificed. He knows that the oblivious girl he saved will never remember his face. he knows he is lost from the universe. He steps into oblivion knowing all this. Yet, he cant stop smiling? Its a pure toothy grin, wreathed with tears. I wonder if they are tears of joy, or some emotion he never wants anyone to experience? The tears, who are they for? I know what he thinks, i know the very word. He thinks of the word beautiful. he doesnt question, he already knows. He sacrificed his life, his very existence, so that someone else may live another day at the very least; he will fade into nothing. And she will live forever. She will never know what he died for, or  who he was. His breathing slows, and his eyes grow dim, but his smile beams. As his head droops he and he shoulders fall, and slumps into a position that means nothing to anyone else; oh for shame, his last breath weezes out as the smoke crawls away into the black sky. I know he died happy. he is a perfect martyr, the ones lost to the memories of the wretched, the scourge, the malicious. I scoff as i turn away, i will never forgive the spirit of the righteous, when the life of the corrupt is never forgiven. And i will never feel pity for the brother that i left in a pool of justice. His release was simple, elegant. I am a cataclysm, I am a venom, and my tears are acid.

Just wrote it off the top of my head, iunno.

quick note before i go back to pland

Im in a weird mood. Its a beautiful day today! its kinda sad though, because when the sun is shining and a breeze is blowing and everything in nature is springing with life, i dunno i feel bipolar in a simultaneous sense. Because it feels great and everything, but all it does is remind me of when i was little, and my family was poor and my neighborhood cheap, and i was so perfectly happy. I was going to say naive, but i dont like that word. Its condescending, like knowing whats to come is any better. If anything its not. I wish i still had the ability to see the world with my own young deceptions. Its so much simpler. Some say knowledge equals power, but thats naive. Thats not entirely true, i guess im just moling over the past couple of years. When i was little i thought being lonely was the worst thing in the world, and having anybody made any situation better. I wish i could believe that again. The rain makes me happy, always good memories. My feelings towards and with the rain have never changed. I dont need to look back and want what i use to have. The beautiful wheather does that too much. Instead of a trampoline or an open lawn i had a cig, a watermelon and an old splintered bench. The watermelon was random, the cig was sweet, and brought back some good memories, they coat the filters with sugar. The bench reminded me of my exploring days, wandering from abandoned house to a torn down forests. I dont explore here, its not safe. That makes me sad as well. Being naive was so much better. I get hung up on the past alot. Oh well time to move on, maybe ill find some place where i can enjoy this wheather. We'll see. Oh plus im chargin my phone one way or another today! So i guess there are some things i can look forward to. Anyway off to explore what i already know, who knows what ill find, maybe a dead body, that would be exciting. Nah thatd just be sad and freaky. Adios

Love Love Love

Ive been thinking about switching my major. So many changes its very strange. But at least the concrete hasnt changed. I havent taken a shower at all today because some men have been working on it and there are giant tubes everywhere and this drilling machine, its very different. I had a dream i was a god last night. It was almost sad. I had control over almost everything, except peoples free will. every decision i made would help one person and hurt another. Maybe im really used to make decisions like that, i dunno. The last decision i made was odd. I had this friend and she was really cool and we hanged out and everything. But then the relationship got ahead of itself and i told her i couldnt be with her, because i wouldnt belong to her, i barely belong to anybody. And so she was upset and now we dont talk. I think i made the right decision this time. Because it sucked, but i knew it would just get worse over time. Plus she wouldnt be able to understand me very easily. I contort myself with different attributes when i meet people in person nowadays. So some people think they know me, but they really dont at all. though if youve known me for longer than three years your alot better off than most people. cause i started the whole process around then. Some people just get me though, and others have known me for years. It was just odd that i picked loneliness for once. And as it turns out im alot happier now, because the people that know me still know me, and the people that think they know me, dont even have to worry about it.

Oh and rain, your one of those people that have known me foreverrr and you always get me like most people dont.

Stephen is too, lol.

Being a god is lonely...just sayin, i was pretty lonely in my dream

Its still bleeding, but i have other things on my mind, peace will be the serenade of my dreams tonight.

Love Love Love