thruthemaze

The Muse I have recently acquired a new source of inspiration. An unwelcome plague that haunts my existence. Even my dreams have been tainted. I spend these long sleepless days in silence. A thick silence pierced solely by an incessant ticking. Every thought is bound and gagged to this freeze-frame that is my brain. This ambiguous maze of shapeless faces and places. Finally, I’ve managed to create something of a resemblance to my secret treasure map. A task not readily taken nor easily finished. But as I gaze upon my masterpiece, with virgin eyes and a fresh light. I fear that I am discerning far too much from said empty canvas.

 My Beliefs hmm well seeing as how i've spent the last four years in horrific trial and error dealing with my meds... i've done a lot of so-called "soul searching" on this subject. I found that i truly believe that there is no god, no heaven, and no hell. i believe that everyone and everything is made up of different combinations of atoms. so in essence everything is the same at some level. so everything in existence has existed and will exist. chaos shapes existence and balance maintains it. i believe time is basically irrelevant because it is a man-made measuring device that allows us to give meaning to the universe. but there is no measur

A Good Hair Day We all exist, Together on this planet. Yet alone, In our little worlds. We all do our thing, Our own way, At our own pace, To no avail. Each and every pursuit, We follow in life, Fails. Without choice, Without effort, We succeed only In Life and then Death. Take a break, Take notice, Appreciate this moment, This place. We are alive, We are ourselves, And with that knowledge Be content. Everything everywhere, Has the potential, For appreciation. No one likes everything, And no one likes nothing. Beauty is everywhere, In everything. To compare is to deprive. Experience things And enjoy them. Kee

Elysium A celestial painting Traced ethereally. By a sole, Majestic Torrent, Ensnared the curiosity Of an innocent, Tortured mind. Slowly revealing, To its inquisitive eye, How frivilous the fights Of daily life, Really and truly are. All the while, The young mind peers, Into a future That strongly resembles A shattered mirror. Constantly replicating And slightly distorting Each of its reflections. The last of which, All scratched and worn, Contains the single fruit Of its deepest passion, Awaiting your arrival, At your final destination.