*Smiles with in Solitude* - Page 2

I retreat here tonight now to the depths of my mind
this wonderous lace of neurons so ingeniously intertwined
but as I look deeper, It's unnerving to find
There is destruction were'ere I look.

My mind here is dying, it's use gone to far
It would have lasted longer in one of those creepy jars
stuff in a scientist's backseat in the rear of his car
Instead of within this damn head.

For my disease now accelerates, it's speeding the chase
towards insanity now I've accomplished first place.
Oh, please, dear god, tell me, why must I run this race?
Are you there, Listening? Damnit, HELLO!

I see the pit here before me, its entrance is black
It reminds me that upon entry, there is no way back.
All that I have, no, more like all that I lack-
why is this starting again? And so soon.

Forgiveness, Compassion, Understanding, I am all of these and yet I look in the mirror and all I see is hate, all I see is anger. A hypocrite that is all I am, that is all I see now. How can I forgive someone I never trusted? How can I have compassion for someone if I never liked them? How can I understand if there existence never made sense? My hate and anger is not upon that person, for that person is not worth the effort, no, My anger and hate falls upon those who try and understand his actions, who try to forgive, who have nothing but compassion for this "misunderstood soul." How can they question my apathy toward someone who is not so misunderstood? How can they be blinded by forgiveness if the truth stands before them? How can there be true justice if we can all rationalize our actions to those who surround us. How come I keep asking questions when the answers Lie before me.

Wow...that's very good, Neutered. You've got that way of expressing dualities that's really smooth, nice job.

Wierd, I just opened up a journal I wrote five years ago and the page I opened to was titled 'duality'

How many days before I sleep? How many miles, the question goes
Allow myself a moment to reflect on what's ahead
And remember all I have yet to pass but still lies behind me.
Where am I? Here and nowhere, alone in thoughts and reality
But I am not alone, for although I walk this particular path we all
Are strolling the same great wide boulevard of dreams realized and shattered,
Yearning for the end to come but thirsting for more to see, it is this duality that gives man
Purpose in life, yet also takes away any significance of it, for be there no purpose,
There is no reason to continue breathing this polluted air, seeing these deluded sights,
Sights which impress themselves into our minds like brands on the haunches of cattle
And mark WHO WE ARE as people, members of the human race, Homo Sapiens, man.
But I'm not your brother, nor you my relation in any way.
Our minds are different.
Our hearts are different.
We walk different paths.
The list goes on and on.
But the list of our similarities is longer still.
So why would I kill you? Or deliver you at birth? Introduce you to this wretched hell
Which I've tolerated for all of sixteen years now and come to realize
The potential and pointlessness of it? A question I ask myself daily, as the sun sets
And the moon rises, a beacon of light in the night.



I do not know the answers, I don't care, but I'll keep looking.

hey that was nice, shows how talented you are . I tip my hat to you n_n

Thanks, but try as I might, I can't achieve the 'deep-thinking' thing that you have in your writing, which, might I add, is fantastic.

I see the world half empty, viewing it with all its flaws. I see mistakes for what they are and not for what they could be. I feel the breeze of misery, the touch of pain and sorrow, and with out question I embrace them, I engulf the touch of life. I do not mourn the dying, I do not praise the living, I only pity and despise them for the empty shells they are.
Our world is hypocritical, condescending all at once, with all its bells and whistles it's quite easy to ignore. I stand for truth and justice for all that has been lost, I see the world for what it is and quite frankly, I am lost. I see why truth is futile; I see why it is blind. The world is colored rosy pink, a color soaked in lies. I do not wear my glasses, I do not wish to lie, I'd rather see the glass half empty than live an empty life.

The chalice, the cup that we filled together
I sit upon the floor and mourn o'er the pieces,
shards that once glistened, but now in the darkenss only exist.
The cup, forged of purist crystal, filled with reddest wine,
fruitful yeild of hard work and honesty,
but may I damn the elbow, the earth moves,
and dislodges the frail chalice from it's steady hold on terra firma.
It swiveles, spins, teeters on the edge of the table.
I dive, arms outstretched, mouth open, desperate to save this
I missed, the glass slips over my fumbling fingers,
and upon contact with the rocky floor proceeds to disintigrate,
the smoothness dispersed into a million tiny beads of light.
The fruit of the vine spills over, staining my clothes,
and upon the floor mixes with the dank dust to form dark muck.

I scramble, tears adding to the sludge below my knees
and desperately scoop the shards together, I will rebuild this glass,
as smooth and flawless as it was before, but what is this?
My hands are bloody, the pieces have cut me.
Why must they be so sharp? I fall back, tears behind my eyes.

I give up. The glass will never be refilled. The glass will never exist as a whole again. Damn its flawless beauty that once was, yet will never be.

I woke up in silence, a peaceful feeling. No words, no discussions just utter silence. It's one of those days when the less words spoken the better the feel of ones day. A day where the road to happiness is so clear and so close, but for me that does not seem possible. My silence arouses suspicion in those who surround me. In their eyes, my path towards peace seems like a stands of rebellion, a road driven by anger. My silence makes them uneasy about my intentions, a bomb just waiting to explode. They surround me with questions, which all have the same answer, which have the same result. They can't seem to comprehend my actions my reason for silence. Always coming up with idiotic answers to uncomplicated situations. Silence, it's a trigger for suspicion, a trigger for unnecessary anger. I started my day feeling peaceful but thanks to their suspicions, I end my day annoyed. The road to happiness seems so far away because of them, yet the road to anger and hate is right around the corner.

She's gone.
Poof.
I was too late. Far too late.
She's taken.
Hooked.
Hitched. I waited too long, and her heart moved on.
Damn my insecurity.
Damn that relationship I slogged through for two years
(To this day, I don't know why I stayed that long)
Now she's gone,
she and her love going through the campus holding hands,
passionate kisses.
And who knows what else. (I know, but I don't want to.)
I smile when I see them
happiness personified.
I'm glad she's happy- that's all that matters to me.
But to say it doesn't hurt would be a lie.
Happiness.
My misery.

I keep walking the halls. My shadow behind.

A puddle left before me contaning all the questions of the past and all the memories of time itself. I stand before it a reflection lost in the memories, blinded by mistakes.

I look into the eyes of disappointment as it destroys all my good deeds and all that I have accomplished. I am left sorrounded by the judgement of those who feel betrayed and those who I've left behind.

The truth, all I said was the truth. Viewed by all as of act of betryal and defiance. Words which I can no longer take back, words for which I feel no remorse for.

Tears? I stand there as tears of my memories run down my face. I begin to forget thier judgements, their disappointed stares. I begin to feel nothing for them, to forget the warmth of a memory.

Standing before a puddle, watching my memories drown with in my own tears, watching my past be erase from my thoughts. I look down and see an empty reflection, no longer lost but ready to be rebuild. I'm no longer blinded by my mistakes, for they have been washed out and taken from me.

Wow, that's really good, Neutered. Awesome.

Up to my neck in gasoline
the fumes nauxious, my head spinning.
The oliy liquid permeates my skin,
it takes the odor; I am now flammable.
It sloshes about every time I make a move, the waves come back
off the tiny walls of the tube I inhabit and slap me in the face.
The taste is enough to make me vomit.
Up to my neck in gasoline.
People peering through the glass
every one of them glaring through
eyes of fire burning outside.
They listen to the sloshing petrol.
Some tap the outside, watching the ripples that travel across the surface.
I turn to them, my mouth forms words, I do not know.
But instead of sound, words, music-


Sparks.

A composer of lies, a pathology made into a career. I create fantasy or twist over the truth; I'm good at what I do. I weave emotion into every story, into every tall tale, the truth is miles behind, the lie a wolf in sheep's clothing.

My soul dark, like the night sky, with out a cloud with in miles, a clear conscious, a clear mind. It takes a strong mind to seek out the truth and stare at it dead in the eye, never fearing what is out there, never flinching at the truth. My strengths created my career, paved the way for my pathology.

I have become apathetic to the world, doing away with mindless and useless emotions that would only create roadblocks. Instead, my apathy finds ways around blocked roads, lights those dark passages, it lets me create paths for myself and for those I call my "Friends." My pathology is a fork in the road, created to keep people with bad intensions away. A maze that confuses my enemies and destroys their souls. Brings chaos to their minds.

My pathology is an art, which only few have mastered, and which fewer can control. I am something, everything, and nothing all in one sentence. And no matter what surrounds me I can never be destroyed.

"Damn, it's Freezing."

I'm quiet again, more so than usual.
The heart's fine, it's the mind that's broken.
How did I go wrong? or was I too right?
To friendly, a receptor for fears and holder of trust
should I have dropped it- No.
I couldn't do that, break the chain, I can't, I won't.
True, my physical affection could easily have been bested by a mutt
fear of whispers; perhaps hers too.
Damn my inhibitions, damn my reservation.
Damn me.
She didn't seem to be doing well, that's why I kick myself
I exist only to satisfy others; now I hurt them.
Why am I the way I am; a heart so large, yet so small and sickly?
Receptor of pain, yet rejector of pleasure.
An iron rod.
Cold hardened metal, forged in flame, to brave the ice
yet I melt in the slightest of warmth.
Her hug, her kiss, they consumed me.
I now I cool from the fire, and, with one frozen tear,
return to my vigil in the cold.