untitled 2

A thousand cuts of mirror-dreams demolished by the hammer of today lay on the cold floor of the jail cell of conformity and stagnancy. Such is the destiny of dreamers. We are the confetti that line the road to that jade illusion called reality.

Reality shall engulf the world of the imaginations. People shall continue to poison the minds of others, desiring them to be like theirs, detesting the selfsame traits they see in themselves. This shall continue as long as insecurity exists, as long as people cannot trust their own thoughts and words and deeds. in this future where great men seek not to educate others, who may have the potential to be great, but seek only to immerse themselves in their wealth.

I am no hero, I am not great. I am just a voice crying out in this world full of static. Noise which engulfs the daily thread of life, drowning what is important, extolling the mundane.

I am but a voice, a cowardly one at that, waiting for someone to perform the deeds I cannot do, but only dream about, for I am one of the mirror-cuts. I am broken. I am insecure.

I told myself I wouldn't do this anymore.

This illusion meant [poem]

This illusion meant,
waking up from dreams of fancy,
optimistic ideologies.
Like scraping off the candy-
coated M and M's and tasting
mucky realization.


If,
by Webster, I say, by Webster,
this meant,
a return to reality.

*Flick*

You know,
THAT story.
Whffff.
Tscchhhh.
It's fake.

We don't believe in fairies.

*unflick*

this illusion meant
Dis's Illusion meant

for you.

Say Goodbye Softly

When the lights go on in the black summer sky,
The guide warns of Charybdis and Scylla.
And you wave your arms in lieu of goodbye
As the one you love passes your life by.

The sirens wail through the shifting wastes
Luring lurid somnambulists into an embrace.
Breathtaken moments wrenched into oblivion
As nameless strangers violate your hidden space.

Let's trace crop circles on our jealousy.
Green and bountiful fields of disharmony
Mar the continent of heart's content.
Let's. Just. Say goodbye softly.
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I may get back to this, I'm not really content with it. Writing this has been really tiresome for me. I haven't flexed my brain muscles in quite a while. I shall try to write more often dear readers.