Protests

I am sorry if you were someone vulnerable.
The power that I thought you had...
... again I just don't understand the foundations for my actions.
I'm not even a bad person.
Luckily I think there is nothing I cannot live with.
So that's good.

Whether you were a man, a woman, or whatever, I am sorry for troubling you. Things become... horrible. It is not a succinct definition, hence the word 'horror' although 'horrible' is even less succinct. Like a cheap horror movie turned into a cauldron of emotion.

Again, thanks for your time, I appreciate it.

My brain has a small cluster in its core,
it is stronger than prose, and no words can break it.
But emotions can,
the sound of someone's mind through a tunnel,
is equal to my entire mind.

Things can be equal but weaker,
as an innocent brush stroke.
Yearning for more as my bristles
touch some wall, some floor.

I feel like brushing away my tears,
on many surfaces,
because my tears have already dried,
my vision is near worthless.

But with priceless value I continue,
What is next to do?
And my obsession isn't just with you.

Everyone who has ever been,
is like a cutout of my soul,
in a glowing light, serene.
Things I have said,
working their way through,
all habitual, it never shines,
I live in a mad room, not made to be a mad room
Live in the gloom as the sun rises,
don't see the radiance,
don't even look at its innocence,
just a nucleonic sadness,
and a batch of insolence.
Meant to forge a soul that makes sense.

Many people, many minds, and many different sizes.


I thank you for being part of my troubled developments. I hope that the thoughts we are capable of creaing as beings, is sufficient, but it isn't necessarily that clear.

Sorry if that is no good. But anyway, it's time to stop bothering you. I realize that your feelings about this are very unclear to me, and I'm sure you would want to get rid of all this nonsense.

It's as though my DNA is cowardly. First it marks itself somewhere, or in many places, then it worms about and disappears as leftover moisture does. It's strange to see something cowardly want to propagate. But, when you think about it, viruses aren't brave.

Anyway shouldn't this be a climatic climax to my s**t poetry?
I often wonder who I should judge people, but there are indeed some people who already know to judge like a cow knows to walk, and such wouldn't trip over its own milk, but its own bulls**t.

Actually you're probably right, I am the one who has nothing to say. That's because I stand on a podium, and the podium is a con trick to begin with. And yet if you grab a sensitive anxious and socially awkward person and shove them on a podium, perhaps the audience might throw litter at that person, or they could enjoy the person's rambling and his hesitation.

Enjoyment is a strange thing, but chances are the show is over.
You are at least amusing to me though.

I also suppose that technically a new discovery beyond quantum physics might make me feel different. Quantum physics is the closest thing we seem to have towards "anything can happen," but such a conclusion would probably be flawed.

I'm just not sure about this universe. Does it simply repay hard work? No it doesn't. You actually have to do nothing, in a void of nothingness, to get anywhere.

Nobody can train for eternal nothingness, and it makes no sense.
But that's enough on this subject.
Apparently if I find a solution, I should be able to implement it quickly rather than wait. It's ridiculous.

There is one thing that would make me say: "aha," but I won't tell you what it is.

Also, it's odd that it says you left in 2008, when I think you left in 2009.
Anyway, I don't really understand people's interests. If I don't understand what interests people, then I can wait until the thought comes that informs me of why people aren't particularly interested in me. It's probably for silly reasons, but also because there are so many people to choose from.