I was cleaning out stuff from my room, and came across a collection of writings I wrote for a school project at the end of this past year. I read through it, and I've decided to subject you all to the horrid writing that lies within it.

'Knowledge'

To many people in this world,
It seems like knowledge of
Random facts takes
Precedence over having knowledge of feelings, or the workings of a
Child's mind.
I have seen this many times. Parents let the schools and the
Televisions teach their children,
Let the media shove facts down their
Throats.
I am victim of this, myself. I
Blockaded my feelings, rationalizing them as I would a
Scientific paper, cataloging instead of
Feeling.
Perhaps getting rid of the phony
Knowledge standards would clean up this
Mess.
Perhaps it's already too late, and I should just
Let go of my ideas of
Change, of reform.
Perhaps....


'People'

A million smiling sheep are watching me,
Taunting me with happiness.
A million brainwashed drones are greeting me,
Shaking my hand like limp fish.
A million eyes, glassy and dull.
A million limp handshakes.
Is all we are now?
Is there still culture to be found, or has the
Descent into decadence begun?
Are we dying as a race, letting our minds
Atrophy?
Are we waiting for some doctor to come and cut off the
Decay?

The human race has seen its days of
Glory.
We are falling, falling through the black shrouds of oblivion.
There is no future here.
We are destined to be
Extinguished.
Some part of me hopes it will happen within my
Lifetime.




'Secrets'

Secret dreams.
Secret wants.
Secret desires.
You have them, I have them too.
It is part of being human, I think, to want to be more than you are.
Some deny that part of them, creating unfed monsters.
Some try to become their dreams.
Some of us, well, some of us don't dare to dream anymore.
Some of us are too afraid to, too afraid of what others will do to our secrets if we let them
Out of our grasp.
Some of us only dream when we're alone, for fear of being laughed at.
Some of us have given up on our dreams.
I wish that I could be what I dream of.
I wish I could be different.
I wish that I could take the form of the people I write about, and live as them forever.
I wish I could do what my characters can, to heal without scarring, to change their skin.
I want to be more than human.
My species disappoints me. I don't want to be human anymore.
Let me go.
Let me live my life as a different soul.

Whilst At a Party....

A herd of cosmic
Shoggoths are grazing on
Raw plutonium, sipping the
Nectar of the gumdrops.
Around them, intestines of blue
Dreams are writhing and
Twitching, wrapping around
The souls of hidden dreamers
Like blue-jelly
Hagfish.

The Stars Are Almost Right...

Alright, how many of you were expecting a Cthulhu-related post? Be honest.... Much better.

In reality, the topic on my mind at the moment has been splitting away from my mother. This theme has been running through my mind for a while, but it has been reaching a new intensity over the past few days. I can see it, clearer than day, and it seems like an eventuality to me instead of just a dream like it had been before.

In months and years past, I was too terrified to even think about this as a close possibility. Now, I am alive with the excitement of what could happen if I get the courage to open my mouth at the right time..... It could be beautiful, like fireworks or a volcanic eruption, or it could be easier, like water breaching a weak wall.

___

On another note (literally), NYSSMA is coming up fast. In two and a half weeks, I will be preforming in front of a judge in three different disciplines. I will again be playing a French Horn solo, and it will be joined by a woodwind quintet piece and a vocal solo! I feel prepared for all of these things, and for the first time, I am not nervous entering crunch time for NYSSMA. It's a nice feeling, to be sure.

___

"Somewhere"

Out there, deep within the ominous

Purple of the gathering storm, a

Child cries for help, grasping with both hands at

Something that has abandoned them

Forever.

Past the windswept slopes of snowcapped

Mountains, a white rabbit lies torn, red

Lifeblood dripping on the thick

Snow.

Under the waves of a stormy

Sea, a creature is torn, body

Drifting in currents it no longer

Commands.

Somewhere, life is changed irreparably.

Somewhere, a life such as mine is considered

Calm.

New Poetry

"You"

You are on all fours.

You are crawling along the desert pavement, clawing at rocks and stones.

You don't even notice the water beneath your hands.

You are only human.

You ignore salvation, and grasp destruction to your breast.

You push away the new, clinging to the teat of the known.

You don't care about the poison lying there.

You admit to insanity, and call yourself crazy.

You say you need to change.

You have no idea how right you are.

You are tearing at your skin.

You have demons chewing in your mind, and you want them gone.

You, like the rest of your kind, are self-destructing.

Hello world, is anyone out there?

Welcome, internet wanderers, to a tiny island in a vast sea of spam and 'exclusive offers'. Sometimes this islet will be filled with the ramblings of a poet with issues, on other days, there may be a rare political commentary-beast floating around, or there might be a portal into the world-view as seen by yours truly. Ah, for that is life! Random, fluid, and you're almost always unprepared, no matter how hard you try.