Lights swirl.

Scribbling down the notes along the static glow of the television with the headphones on,
completely oblivious to the world except for the one within the books opened around him.

he checks the phone for a message from a loved one but it stays silent,
nothing pronounced to him that he is more alone than ever at that moment.
nothing but him and work.

" Tears stream down your face for tonight, but the lights will still guide you home and ignite you. "

spark.

the swirl of the caffeine turns silently within the cup as he ponders quietly.

the trees whispers incessantly across their canopy, keeping him sleepy despite the coffee.

Pen twirls across the sheets filled with calculations, but all he's thinking about is just the trip home.

just another sixteen days.

" Just sixteen days. "

he sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair one last time before getting back to the work.

all work no play makes jack a dull boy.

but the work gets him home.

no play then.

Tired of sleeping.

Meds has a way of making,
making your eyes feel like they are dying to get out of your body,
ears into thinking they are mini copters longing to fly away.

Sickness has to kick in during the holiday week.
it's a horribly ironic issue.
now i just got to get on with the assignments again.

i don't need to keep the two feathers from the last semester.
fuck the feathers.
i'm going for homely dinghys.
All four of them.

Too bad Black Ops is coming out on sept 11.

not too good i guess.

You are a S.O.B behind the wheel my friend.

i drove into a cop car today but he just waved me on.
Guess that means i will be okay.
Listen to the sound of, birds whistling through a hail of lead.
Hold on to the dear thought of your figurine on a cross saving you,
because i don't think uncle sam would be equally kind to us.
The joy & misery of the fire flickering in your eyes is killing your lover.
He's already laid across the planks burning for you.
Yet you did not choose him nor he did you.
Oh he certainly did not.

All chances of recovery is gone for the dead for they cry silently.
Cry for the lost hopes of a child bouncing smiling on their laps with their tiny hearts against, against the very fabric of mankind.


All said & done,
Deep sea blues and too many watches,
we love your sigh like jesus loves his toast.
Bleed for your bleeding colours like it's pulmonary,
hang the dead man noose.
Hang him dry.

Blue pear.

After bouts of restlessness and tossing with a lil turning,
one person out of a hundred will slowly understand that,
nothing is ever perfect, and if they seemed to be at the start,
it's just a fool's hope, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.

The pot that can never be found.

Some people smile at the sight of the children frolicking around the puddles of water by the gutter,
Others laugh quietly at the sight of loved ones smiling at the children.
It's a bittersweet smile though, one that never lasts.

Once upon an age, it was an easy task to be sure of oneself.
just the mandatory tales of Blood and tears upon the falling burning hanging body.
Now it's hard. it's just so hard to do so.

People never had time for romantics & dreamers.
it's out of a logical need but we don't have the need to diss it too.
Superficial beauty takes away the breath of the public and the rest just weep.
weep, with the sorrow of knowing the lost.


it's an error to feel.
to feel too much and to understand it so.
To watch it burn in front of you but yet,
letting it burn away instead of keeping it to yourself is better for it.
so let it burn.
let everything burn.
let it all burn.

moth

i was a king,
but i'm just the same,
putting my hands over the flame,
i love the heat and the strings that tied me off,
but the flaming just burns so hot.

all along,
fiddling through all by myself,
he's celebrated but i'm disturbed,
it's never a curse,

my love affair with everywhere was innocent,
why do we bother,
time to start the car and go,
to where you are.



All said and done, it's just 10 days to go.
time for the pick up and the last beer for the road.



oh.. you are the best i know love.
the best.
seeing you there so unaware.
but yet we will be together soon.
we will.

the little things in life

are best enjoyed through slow-motion.
what can be better on a lazy saturday than,
waking up,
baking up,
grab a bun and head down to the field to watch football.


talk about live entertainment.
sitting like a hermit in a black hoodie,
while watching the players screaming injury every five minutes is pretty funny.

there are some men who just want to see the world burn.
but the world has been burning for a long time.
and.. yet, it's still here.
i guess that's the bloody beauty of it.
oh burn world burn,
then just stop drop and roll,
oh yea.