Talking to Myself

22nd April 2010. Shes my one and only; turns out I wasnt her only one. All the times I hardly got to see her, I didnt realise that there were others, others who place better; better in the race for her love, in the race for her heart. Now Im feeling what I cannot explain. If only she knew, if only she knew what I felt when I look at her, just what I wish she could know. Does she ever think of me? Once a day, or even in a blue moon? Im caught up with someone, who I am an option to, yet I have placed them on a pedestal. From way up high on the platform in my mind, she lives happily, without me. My love has become infatuation. Obsessed with the idea of love, I live without it, just the idea. The surreal theory of an imagined fairytale of what it means to love someone. Love does not compare. Love does not reflect on the past. Love is an overused word with not action.

23rd April 2010 Let those that can, do. Amazing what words can do and also just how much power action has. I feel a lot, but others dont. I guess this could be the building of a much needed foundation. Theres no telling how big the building will be until the foundation is laid. I feel good, like Im free from it all. Occupied with petty thoughts; once I was, but I am no more. What is wisdom without money? Put that somewhere near the meaning of life.

24th April 2010. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder but we appreciate beauty when we see it. Its a shame that we fail to see the beauty in ourselves. What good comes out of belittling ones self? Beauty is all around but sometimes I feel like I dont notice it. Women are generally beautiful and men possess handsome qualities. Over time is generalisation has been diminished. Men too are now supposed to be beautiful. They say dont judge a book by its cover yet, over 70 percent of first impressions is based on body language? Huh? Often I wonder what it is like to be perfect, and then I stop. For only God is perfect, they say do, but not too much. Experience can teach one to appreciate a lot or leave you regretful; you choose. They say life is like a slideshow, but when I look back I miss out on what is ahead of me. We all need love; this is fact. With age and experience, maturity is imminent, for most. For age without experience is like a boat with no sail. Winner listen, losers talk, the humble fly, as for the proud, they walk.

Misinterpretation: Rarely does she hesitate to cross my mind; Does she not fatigue? I race for her heart, but often place last. She casts a gaze towards my countenance. But notices not my love for her being. I am a stratus amongst great whites; hence Why she sees shape in other clouds. As for me, not part on her stage am I appointed. All there is about her, I adore. But never will I be the water in her well.

28th April 2010. Moi; not on a hype, but more calm and serious with it. Its is strange how my thoughts formulate. With each word I write, I cannot imagine any of my peers reading it and understanding it; at least I do. Often we become what we think we ought to be, yet who we are is good enough. Break it down, I thought acting in a certain manner made be better, yet it was who I was that was better. I like feelings, enough said. Its hard to write a lot of meaningful things. Honestly, I cannot fathom why, but yeah, I love it. I like ish that makes me smile, but it has no feeling, like it lacks a purpose. Talk is cheap, so youre going to need a lot of it to purchase one action; a real action. Madness: Ever felt lonely, like it was just you? Why does the silence shout so loud? While my voice knows no journey, I thought it all, but realised nothing, And suddenly anger ambushed me. Calm and Reason fall weak, Leaving the feeling of I merely existing, Feeling as though I am not. Ever wondered what warmth is? I have, and still I ponder. Held captive by the myriad thoughts, All offering viewpoints in synchronization, I wonder, if this be madness.

9th May 2010. Shes my worst yet my best. Always arguing, its like I try but to no avail. Everything is never good enough. Im always the one in the wrong. I always have to be wrong, even when Im far from the problem, Im the source. So simply, just forget it all, maybe just her. Ever had something you dont want, but cant help but think you will need it. I use that loosely. Never mind the anger that fuels these words, lets pretend it is all in good spirit, meaning something. If you do not go and get it, you wont get it; its written. Hard work is determined by results. What is hard work? Working hard? If we all work hard what would happen? Bewildering are her fiery eyes, Astonishing is her beautiful smile, Providing breath to the inanimate, Gorgeous is her frame, made so intricate. More beautiful however, is her soul, Granting infinite joy unto them all. Surrounding her is warmth and love, With a voice gifted from only heaven above. Lying is she in a bed of flowers, Without toil, she turns seconds to hours. She knows not the pain or hate in the world, for it is all hers, daddys little girl. We all got dreams and we all start reaching, Said my nigga Drizzy, but this time Im believing, That I will make it, cause for as long as Im breathing, Theres no stopping me from all that Ill be needing. If we all give, then who keeps on receiving? At the other end, theyre asking who keeps on giving? Cant stop my pen from bleeding, If I do, Ill be living life without a reason. Its all about cohesion; Divided we fall, together we form voltron and take on all.

18th May 2010. Too many times Ive been wrong or rather Ive been rarely good at timing. Better my timing and I would see success. If I found all that I seek when it is granted, surely I would be happy. So somehow be on the looks for what is coming my way. What then do I do in the

meanwhile? On a music player, at one particular time, I want to listen to a certain song, So I shuffle through the songs; how much better would it be to select the song I wanted to listen to? Its all in my control, now that I think about it. Is it reasonable to utter things that are not? Who knows the thoughts of an owl? Beautiful Flower: The flower awakens to the suns rays; And grows fonder of its light with each day. Graceful is each one of the flowers petals, Valued more than any precious metal. Many travel distances far and wide, As to encounter beauty and its pride. Many are the joys of the young flower, With the suns light as its reigning tower. 22nd May 2010. I guess we are all in love with the idea of being in love, but before we bring it to life, does it even exist? Love is an escapade. I guess I love her. That feeling of know that shes the one; it was a bit strange how it happened all of a sudden. She really is. The mistake not to make is imagine what I want to happen and exactly how it should happen, because if the smallest piece of detail were to be amiss, I would fall. Over expectation is suicidal. I go crazy for her. Its the smile that defines us; the feelings which anchor the smile. Im just like wow, shes myI guess its only right I have certain expectations like shopping malls, plenty hugs, seeing farther than her gorgeous eyes. But when one thing goes amiss, I will have set myself up for a fall. I need a hot girl, and yeah that girl is hot. Lost Love: I think I lover her, But there are other, other just liker her. Says he to my left, I consider this. She is different, special like no other, Says he to my right; I start to ponder. Often I wonder if she feels the same. When apart, does she pause to think of me? Does she seem in the light as I her? Is this a dream turned reality, or, A nightmare clothed into a fantasy? I yearn for her smile, hoping she my touch, And long to be lost in her sparkling eyes.

I race to answer often with no call, Often I wonder if she loves me at all.

Youd think moments of adversity instantly translate into pinnacle success, but man have I made a mess of things lately. Unpaid this, missing that, ignoring her and let her pass by. I am truly the epitome of a fool I think to myself. Hmman imbecile more like. She lights up all darkness around her, everything is transformed as she passes, personifying all, nothing in her path remains inanimate. With one glare, the sun shines bright, bright as her smile. I call it love, but what do I know? Except that, she is certainly special, unlike many who have drove life out of my heart. I write of her, yet I should be in her presence. But Im afraid, afraid of leaping without the wind beneath my feet, to assure I float. I wonder if she sees me. Am I worth her paying attention? I hide from her, bedazzled by her demeanour, I run, as though I were her prey. I consider death to her to be sweet. Sweet as honey or nectar in the beautiful flower that mimics her frame. Though my eyes run dry, my heart still cries out. Helpless as it may be, I pray my desire will be granted. But desire ceases to fulfil. A victim of my own mischief, I believe in more than which I seem to fathom. Shes special. So confident, yet humble, she rushes with energy. She has so much life whilst we only exist amongst her. Beautiful beyond her countenance, she relishes in a great magnitude far beyond that known to man. She is truly gorgeous. I write with meaning of thoughts conjured by emotions Id rather not share, or even truly reveal to myself, or else I would lie in a puddle. Feeling clearer that before, I continue my day unaware of all that remains hidden under the covers of my heart. Hidden behind the walls of my mind, slowly brought into existence as I turn away, distracted by the thought of slight companionship. King David had many enemies, but God was on his side. I feel as though my battle is not against flesh and blood, but the depths of my mortal mind. Questioning me, debating, dictating all that which I fail to grasp. I make plans and resources become somewhat mythical. Without resources, ideas become as visible as the wind. Its like they work against me, yet they are meant to be working for me. Ask the right question, often do I say this to myself but too little right am I accustom to. Free me from emotion, soften my pain, and relieve me from anguish, someone I ask. I see him and he sees me, between us six stand. But it seems to be who I am that disappoints. Dealt the cards worth risking the little I have, I merely folded and waited for the next hand. Actions become habit, and habit an inaudible character. Feeling

somewhat free for a while, I cant help but wonder for how long. I want it to last, so I concern myself with the duration rather than the moments I am subject to. Life is toil, act boldly with ambition and watch her be transformed. Do not let yourself to be crushed by petty thoughts which crowd your mind and hold on to these words. May they guide you to where your purpose is found; find her, your love, the one you seek, for as surely as you search is as surely as she will be found.

17th June 2010. Im tired of being a thought. Not just tired but sick of it, disgusted by it in fact. I ought to be active. I write and cross it out wondering why I cant just get it right. I imagine you reading this and I wonder if you fathom the emotion and meaning behind that which I note, because honestly, I dont. They say if you want to be boring, leave nothing out. I guess I am both the epitome of boredom and excitement. I feel the need to exhume deeper than I have covered up. I want to stream tears. Tears which equate to oceans, in hope to flush out these feelings. This anger, this shame, known only to Him and I, I thought its time I let you know. I smile, but I wish you knew. I wish you understood. A prisoner in my own mind, I have put myself here and nothing seems worth it unless it is serious. So many do it but, theres always a but, but this one brings rise to a point I am starting to think doesnt make sense. What is my purpose? I once read something that said a philosopher thinks about death a lot; well I suppose I am not far off. I just want to tell the truth, and not be blinded by petty thoughts about life and miss out on the one Im living. I feel tears swelling up in me; deep emotion that I fail to fathom lingers in my heart. Is it happiness? No, sadness, anger, resentment towards myself. Why? I wish I could right good. I wish I could smile from my heart outwards, and not be crowded by wrong thoughts. I wish I could succeed like I never thought, but what is a wish? What are words without action? When Im alone, I ponder and discuss situations with myself. I have created a persona, a friend that is there with me when the world isnt. Maybe he was given to me. There are times when I feel he goes too. Feeling so distant from everyone Ive knownGod help me. Help me understand why I value so little, help me understand where I am going and why there and cry. Cry out the tears of joy that replace the sadness, anger and confusion that embodies me. They say its okay for teens to be confused, but no, spare me.

Sex addict? Maybe so. I need something I suppose. Im scared of darkness or more so what it symbolises. Cant I just be free? Maybe I am. Selfish; who me, apparently so. I wish I could drown these thoughts and exist content to live happily. I make mistakes; pardon me for being a little too human. Righteous am I not, I know that, He knows that too. I thought thinking good thoughts was a sure way to lead myself to goodness. To all those I have disappointed, I wish you could see my intentions as I know them to be. I hope you hold on to me a little longer. I know its hard but without you, I cannot go onplease dont let me fall. Suppose I sleep and awake free from the ability to disappoint those I care about, but the talent to disappoint those who expect me to fail, and disappoint myself, then time would be limitless. Thats my problem, I think time is infinite. I hope to show them that I am sorry.

21st August 2010. Looking at myself through anothers eyes I see a lost boy, scared of what might be. Oblivious to all the good that is around um he walks down the wrong path. Flaws seem to paint his heart shades darker than the melanin does his skin. Lost as he is, he is quite aware of good. My eyes are open he claims, but all he sees is darkness. Unknowingly he mistakes it for light. Nothing is as it should be he thinks to himself but little does he know. Convinced that time in infinite he exists in a fraction of a shell. one day, Ill be big. So he plans hi s future without action. He lacks patience; that might prove to be his downfall; his Achilles heel if you please. Pride in his mind he tries to see it manifest into tangible action, but failure is clear in his vision. How foolish the boy is, he need not be reminded. Those around him succeed, if anything he slows them down. Indecisive, obnoxious, ignorant are just a few of the adjectives that spring to mind with each of his actions, Should we help him? No, he doesnt need it, circumstance has him believe he deserves it. Foolish boy. They say it is never too late, but maybe, just maybe, the ship is about to sail.

Who makes the potters pottery? Whats my truth? Girls emancipate me, full stop. Im addicted to them, I wonder if they are good for me. My way of getting away. Its said down the line we are most regretful of that which we didnt do than that which we did. I just wish they let me try it first. Whether one lives a life of misery or euphoric joy, they all lead to the same fate; death. One day it will come knocking regardless of where you are a king or deluded. I m not where I desire to be, but then again who is? Thats life right, a lie? Make the most of it, or don t it wont matter. A matter of fact is, heaven or hell, pride or regret, those remembered forget, all theyve met, when the time comes.