[big baby]

This was clever throughout. Some really stellar parts, clarifying the difference between webbing thoughts and solidified parts of life that we never question. Again, the rhyming was stellar, but sometimes I think it stiffened what you actually wanted to say, and if you did say it, it was a metamorphosis of what you ACTUALLY wanted to convey. And by actually, I mean, our thoughts arent as complicated as we think they are. We think simply, but we convey our thoughts with words. You feel an emotion, and you think about it, this is how you see this emotion and how it affects you, and how it makes you feel.

The end.

I dislike how they ask me questions. End.

how we describe how we dislike those asked questions are a different story. We compare it to things, and that's how the writing comes about.

abandonment complex, the whole perennial thing. was very very powerful, man. I have to say, reading it and going over it, it's very tough to process. Not because of the intri***y, but because of its prevalence. I liked this, because its a stream of thoughts that make sense, you know?


It touches on a pocket of time, and sets the tone for the next few lines. Alot of lines hurt. The burial plot was very tough to read too. I almost didnt want to keep reading. Understanding where a writer is coming from is probably one of the most satisfying yet, double edged blade type things that you wish you didnt.


Maybe you’ll listen. Maybe you won’t.

love that line. i think, that - this is a real line. maybe you wil.. maybe you wont. hinging on the fact of probability, goes back to the abandonment complex. you don't know. these dreadful ways of thinking affect your relationships, even really good ones that you wish didn't. These ways of thinking are detrimental, and its tough because of what you went through. The connection here, as with various others is tremendous. its fairly easy to talk about something sad for a few paragraphs and then have them 'connect' but this line right here, is exactly what was being looked for, its sad, then its ....happy again, then it questions itself.. then it repeats.. this is that complex exactly. beautiful really.



"Too concerned/incensed that my self-expression is superbly dense until the words regret the tongue they spill from, and the lungs that build ‘em. How lost we are, attempt to act ourselves, lament the fact we fell like strangers confounded. These disparate strands we cannot yoke, so we remain such proud things. Decay is surrounding: to stay grounded is a fool’s endeavour. Bask in the moonlit splendour, soak in the sun rise that’ll eventually pass. "


this is great here too. I love... that you're so honest. Even with the intertwining lying and underlying schemes, this is still honest and great. Attempting to act like yourself, is almost impossible. you can't act like yourself, because you are yourself. That's the most crucial aspect of this whole thing. Sometimes we feel so disconnected, and wish we weren't. We understand that we can connect, but the need to connect isnt there, and its very difficult to connect when you're disconnected. You feel like you should act like yourself, to not be this dead caricature of a former self you wish you werent. So you begin to change - to act like yourself, only to find yourself not even being remotely yourself. and then begins this weird flux within yourself, and it's all repetitive and not healthy. The following lines of bask in moonlit splendour and soak in the sunrise are perfect contrasts... i wrote something recently that touched on that. That I have an hourglass and in the time the sand falls i have the time to be myself, to tell people i love them, to hold hands, to tell people they're beautiful. when that time is finished i fall back into this monotonous boredom that i wish i could snap out of. It's something you need to do for yourself. To separate from the system that begins this vicious cycle. sometimes you dont even know what causes it, it's just something, and you wish you knew.

"See the beauty between verdurous landscapes and city’s venomous fog. From a lover’s palm plucked an alyssum flower, its petals gently drop. A metaphor for trying to find meaning I’ve lost. Are we here for a reason? Will you leave a response?"

i loved this. you touched on the subject again.. weaving back and forth between what was on your mind to begin with, why we're here.. why you're here.. how you observe things, how everything has a cause and affect, dancing, and why you danced, to the feeling you danced, the petals falling, and what that symbolizes, the meaning ..of meaning itself, of yourself. are we here for a reason? will you leave a response? referring to someone, something, a relationship that you... wanted to succeed but... self sabotage got in the way. something you can't help but to feel. something that isn't normal. but you want it to be normal. will someone understand? I recently wrote about a guiding light.. and well, this touches home. sometimes theres people in our lives that become this light that slowly, very slowly breathe life into you. people say to do it yourself, but you sometimes can't do it yourself. this is a very honest piece. sometimes you need motivation from a source that you trust with your entire being, something that understands you.. that doesnt judge you. that doesnt let you go. then you can slowly rebuild yourself into the person you know you can be - is what i took from it. You dont question life and yourself, you just begin to be. And by being you already are yourself. no acting. none of that. just something beautiful. canvass dipped in paint and a beautiful landscape comes about. you notice beautiful things and you take them for what they are, not for what they could become - whether it be good or bad. I like the piece. the whole format and the topic. some qualms with some writing, and wording, and rhyming, but that's whatever. That'll get better in time. My only advice to you, is to keep writing what you feel. and not what you think.

thx alot. appreciated the allusion to me. I saw a few lines here scattered throughout. sometimes i felt as if you took some really old pieces and used them for some sort of inspiration. which also pleases me. Hope you're doing well. peace