Cracking up

You truly find out who is real in your life when you lie broken in a million pieces. Those who really care are the ones that stick around to help sweep up the many fragments of your broken heart and the pretend, they start to vanish as soon as the first few cracks appear. It is the real that I cherish so much right now. Forget the idealistic dreamers (like I once was) and give me something I can sink my teeth into. No stories, no lies, no situations that seem to need constant padding. In this state of being so carefully glued together, I need to be bound up with simple adoration. My many wounds need the attention of someone who is strong enough to defy and true enough to remember that I was once whole and am determined to be so again.

Friends??

I had these friends once; they knew me so well and loved me, flaws and all. At my darkest of moments, they held true and not for a moment wavered in their devotion. You see, it's easy to say that you are friends with someone, but it doesn't mean anything until you show it. I was lucky, I knew people like this. I never really realized just how rare and prized such people are until now. I find myself surrounded by plastic people that look all shiny and great, but they are hollow on the inside. They care little for who I am and are simply content with the idea of who they think I should be. Suddenly I have become a trained seal putting on show for a crowd of spectators that can never be pleased. Such a performance is exhausting. Staring through these eyeholes that are not my own, it's becoming impossible to ignore the cheap plastic smell of my own mask that I am forced to wear. I seek with all my heart an ally who is willing to see me as me. Such a relief it would be to finally shed this stupid mask and regain my character which I have pushed so deep down inside. Surely there exists another that can value me for what I am, flaws and all.

All because of Jonny Cash

Wickedly wrong in the sense that the laws of life and love forbid it. Those in defiance are seen as impure liars who care none for the hurt of others. These sinful moments of unwholesome misdeeds may take their toll on a world that is already weakened from its many other cracks, but to some these unguided missteps give them the fire rich sense of life that fuels them to continue existing.

Road Trip

** Most people will not understand this one, so I'll explain a bit. I went with a couple of friends on a little mini road trip and lots went wrong. We busted a tire, a cop came and we ended up renting a car all so we could get to some auditions that no one actually showed up for.**

Embarked on an adventure for the last lost three; cased within an iron monster with a broken fin. The knight in his shiny white horse could not save them; he merely pointed the way on to the magic carpet that would carry them into their imaginations. Spiraling through the land of infinite valleys, they seek the land of the beautifully pretend. Behind them lie the trivialities of truth and consequence; their glossy eyes see only the hope of a happy ending.

Drive On

I've been there before. I sat in the exact seat that you currently occupy and experienced the uncontrolled chaos that seems to fill the air that surrounds you. It's that stomach turning sickened feeling that tells you that somehow your mind has become disconnected from your body. The dizzying reality that says what you want is completely unattainable. Almost as if you were wandering through fog on a moonless night, the destination you seek continues to creep further and further away. It would be great if it all just got better and if that dreadful longing just vanished, but no such luck. Perhaps it is the fates perched on high laughing at the despair of the blind wandering masses. Either way, you are stuck with your disarray in all of its glory, complete with throbbing headache such turmoil tends to bring. True, I've seen what you see and know just how obnoxious these moments can be and I really do wish that I was that type that hugged and kissed it all better. But I am far more likely to kick you in the a** and tell you to get over it.

Naked

Such bright beginnings full of hope and illustrious dreams of all powerful grandeur. We were meant to be the absolute perfection, succeeding where all others had and would always ultimately fail. Weighed upon our flimsy wills were our costumes of multicolored gifts. We would always win, always overcome, always withstand whatever might try and pull us down. To us, the world was to be an adventure that would be tamed simply by us navigating though it. How blinding it was, our ignorance. So determined to fit those preset molds, we eventually lost the gift of our individuality. As the years wore on, the rough road of life scraped away our shiny coats that we wore so proudly. Each step down the path stripped away a little more of the hoax that we tried so hard to convince ourselves was real. In the end we find ourselves standing naked surrounded by the tattered pieces of our ill-conceived lie. Arms bloodied from forcing ourselves through a place we were never meant to see, face bruised from the constant battles we had with our true identities. This moment, though scary and cold, is a chance at rebirth. We can go forward from here as a newborn soul that's had a glimpse of where the dark road goes. This can be the opportunity to step into reality with our eyes stretched open in an impenetrable glare that forces the voices of opposition to step aside. Only now, we get this chance. Who's to say that tomorrow shall bring it again? All hope isn't gone, is it?

On the Outside

The idea that I would never fit ran through my mind like a marquee with never ending lights, each bulb flashing out one more time that I would never be accepted in the world that I craved so much to be a part of. No matter how hard I tried, the current keepers would never free the gates and I was either unable or just unwilling to climb over. Sad that such a thing still exists in a land of taxes and jobs, responsibilities and obligations. Trivialities as these should have been left in the days of swings and slides, as they have no business in my sensible, mature idea of what the world should be.