To think I used to be like that a long long time ago. Too bad the fire's dead now.
lone wolf syndrome.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
7:51 PM
I've tried so hard my entire life in some things and I know that I'm not good at them.
But at least I tried before I came to that conclusion.
And at least I can do those things with the comforting knowledge that I don't have to be good at it.
lone wolf syndrome.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
2:48 AM
When I look at things this way, I'm a much happier person.
lone wolf syndrome.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
11:11 PM
I think I've discovered the root to my sleeplessness. Oh man, this isn't going to be something easy to solve.
lone wolf syndrome.
8:48 PM
I don't know why I try so hard sometimes.
Maybe it's because things have always somehow miraculously turned out for the better when I really needed them to.
To say that I'm purely unlucky my entire life would be a lie.
When I really need it, it comes.
Like when I nearly died a few times, when I nearly gave up on everything, when I'm exhausted or when something I really need to happen doesn't happen, bam. Lucky break.
Yeah, I guess the heavens have a weird way of making things work out. So I should just try hard as usual, be good and maybe things won't be so bad afterall.
lone wolf syndrome.
12:39 AM
Go sleep, Bryan.
lone wolf syndrome.
12:34 AM
So much to do, so little time.
lone wolf syndrome.
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
8:04 PM
I have been on this battlefield many times before. I have seen corpses rise like flowers in spring to face the fate you bring, to battle the same battle, time and time again. I have seen them rip off their shrouds and put on ancient armour, just to be struck through the heart, once more. To find peace in the earth. To sleep. Until they are called upon again.
I write these beautiful poems but for no one to see.
Lines and lines that can go on endlessly.
Weaving a story, a tale of sorts
An emotional medley, that just makes what sense it ought
I write for no one but myself
Because there is no reason to show this side of me
To the random people
The whos, the its and the you-might-bes.
You're all so distant and far away
Almost like a stranger, even though I recognise your face
You don't touch me and I can't touch you
So apart we stay, like some membrane I'm looking through
These words speak more than I ever should
Say more and detail every little bit
Of my memory; life, emotions felt
Times spent, troubles been through, regrets held.
Sometimes I don't understand why I write;
Sometimes I know perfectly well, but keep it inside
But all I know and comprehend now
Is that writing is a freedom, from the slavery of myself.
If I don't write, then I am naught.
I have to express these feelings I have
If not they'll come back to haunt
And bother me when I'm trying to find
Peaceful sleep, huddled behind
Layers and layers of sheets; in the cold
To keep me warm; to warm my soul.
Because too much I've seen and too much I've walked
I look through these eyes now with different thoughts.
My beliefs altered, my perspective changed
And yet the road still stretches on so far ahead.
But nevermind that because when I pick up a pen
When I hit a key, when I am in this trance
When I write, scribble, scratch, scrawl
Draw, make-believe, imagine, type
Hide, dream, pretend and fight
I create a new world, separate from the rest
I create new ways of cheating the test
I find it ok; it's suddenly not
As painful or tiring or mundane and bored
When I am writing because it helps me understand
How I feel about the situation at hand
Don't think I wonder for hours on end
On what line goes next, no. This all freehand.
I write like they rap and my fingers will glide
To the thoughts and the rhymes inside
My head, for I can see weird patterns in words
Semantics and tricks
To twist these words and make them mine
Regardless of how little time
I took to write all this poetry out
It's mine and mine alone and for that I am proud.
This is good, this is well.
I think this piece will tell
Why I write and how I do it
Not that anyone bothers to read
But you know what?
Fuck it.
lone wolf syndrome.
9:31 PM
But I somehow just feel even more powerless watching this.
lone wolf syndrome.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
4:48 AM
I'd prefer no dreams, no fantasies, just a sleep filled night.
Please.
lone wolf syndrome.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
9:27 PM
"What type of building is this? Why would you hide all the beautiful things inside where no one can see them? From the outside, all I see is pipes and bricks, broken and rusted scaffolding, dirt and grime. No one would want to enter this place."
"Because I live inside. And other people, live outside."
