Pushing Me

God Will Weep

God will weep

for the souls of the damned

and the sins of the holy

when I shove my fist through his chest

God will weep

for the poor and suffering

and the mistakes of the greats

when I kick his corpse off the cliff

God will weep

for the sins he has committed

and the suffering of the good

when I shove my foot through his skull

God will weep

for the wrongs he has done to me

and the defects he made me with

when I throw his ashes into the wastewater collection plant

God will weep

because when I find his house

and break in the door

he fucking better cry.

I Need to Move

I need to move.

I need to run.

I don’t know why.

Maybe to run from my past.

Maybe to run towards my future.

Maybe to run to beat my enemies, who are now old and weak.

I need to fight.

I don’t know why.

Maybe to assert my own superiority.

Maybe to assert my own self-defense capability.

Maybe to practice for when I am to fight my enemies on equal ground for the first and last time.

I need to move.

I don’t know why.

Maybe to run towards the future.

Maybe to fight the evils of my past.

Maybe to finally feel proud and confident of my body, of my self, for the first time.

I need to move.

Who is Speaking?

Who is this?

three people in one

one person as two

put on a mask and done!

Is the fair lady speaking?

She is quite fun.

Let's decide on a date

and go for a run!

Is the young boy speaking?

He is quite kind.

I hope he is not so sad.

The world is good, I'm sure he'll find.

Is the good sir speaking?

He is quite professional.

I think he will go a long way.

His intelligence is indeed exceptional.

Are all three of them speaking?

I sure hope they are.

Each one brings something different

Like three types of shining star.

Keep Looking

The light at the end of the tunnel

Is hidden by a door in-between.

The senses that fall into the funnel

must be processed and filtered before seen.

The fox sees the grapes and cries "sour!"

The faint light peeks through, and the man denies.

But when time passes, hour by hour,

the fox must jump up, and the man must realize.

A sliver of light peeks through the door's crack

for it has been pulled slightly ajar

by the ones who walked off the well-worn track

and realized, inside, who they really are.

The man fears the door, for it is new to him

If he is wrong about the light, there is only evil in sight

This is a dangerous matter - it cannot be decided on a whim.

But he must keep looking, and he must see the light.

He must crack the door further open,

pushing the holy sepulchre's sealing stone aside

for the trailblazers have advised; the Oracles have spoken:

There is only joy waiting for her on the other side.

Decisions

So many decisions all the time.

Like a hydra, each head popping out two more

and each of those heads doubling up again

like it wasn't decision-anxiety-inducing enough at the start.

And that's all very well and good if you didn't force me to interact

but nooooooooo I have to actually choose the singular right one

or at least one of the few close enough to the right one

which, of course, is none, since the only "close enough" is on the dot.

You know what? Take it away from me.

You're the smartass here. You know which one is correct.

Why don't you do it? Take my autonomy away from me, pilot my life?

Anyways you clearly know how your hydra works. Won't that help mine?

But no, you have to hide the whole concept of the hydra away from me

Making it my fault whenever you hit the wrong head like a fucking idiot

So that when I am first introduced to it I am met with a thousand heads

and little clueless me is told "yeah that's your fucking problem I quit."

And with each wrong, clueless swing I make

the number of heads only ticks higher

The Temptation of Silence

Oh, how tempting that mistress is,

to be shut away and not a bother to nobody,

To make absolutely no-one the sadder

by reciting the same pains that ailed them.

Oh, how tempting that emptiness is,

to be quiet and subdued and unnoticed,

To make absolutely nothing go worse than it already has

by moving again to the great god of failure.

Oh, how tempting that nothingness is,

to be perfect and nonexistent and unbothered,

To make absolutely everything nothing, and nothing everything

by emptying the whole world of its contents.

Oh, how tempting that silence is,

to destroy my self in mine own vainglory.

Solving Problems

Solving a problem

is about finding

the right tool.

Sometimes

You have the right tool

but forgot it.

Sometimes

You saw wrong

And you grabbed the hammer

When what you needed was a wrench.

Sometimes

You simply don't have it

And need to go to the store

To get the tool you need.

Sometimes

That tool is people.

New ideas, new methods, new tricks.

Everyone else has so much to teach us.

And sometimes

I stressed so much

I forgot the simple solution

and cried myself to sleep.

And maybe

maybe sometimes

there just isn't a perfect solution at all

and I have to just deal with it.

Or maybe I'm using a voltmeter and car battery

When what I actually need is a hand.

Foreboding

I am in the dark

The rain pounds on the windows

My eyes snap open

Time is running out

I can't feel the urgency

What's in the future?

I look but don't see

I understand but can't feel

I know but can't act.

I have one last chance.

I should prepare - the rain stops -

I wasted my time.

Why Should I Care About Him

Why should I care about him? C'mere. Just look at this train wreck.

Ugly face. UUUUUGLY fucking face. Cmon. Have you seen this guy? He looks like every single kind of criminal's face averaged into a final composite. A face only a mother could love, except not even that - his mother is trying to fix it as we speak! Hah!

Fatass belly. Musculature of a rat. Those arms you see? Maybe a twentieth is muscle, the rest is fat. Can barely handle 15 pound dumbbells, what a fucking weakling.

His terrible posture. Back hunched over like he's 90 years old and about to croak, reinforcing his own negative self-image. Eyes empty like his brain, completely numb to reality.

And what about the mind? Well, what about it? He's a fucking dolt. Can't do anything well, refuses to work hard, just escapes everything.

Why, I'd almost go so far as to say that he's the product of nothing but childhood trauma and bad coping mechanisms developed in response to that trauma, except he might also be dealing with some undiagnosed autism and ADHD and those two aren't really his fault.

And look at him even now. Hiding away, refusing to deal with his problems, just writing and yelling and wallowing in despair like a fucking sewer rat, afraid of even asking his time-tested friends for support or help. Instead he just screams into the meaningless void like it's gonna do anything. Newsflash, bub, it ain't doin shit!

He's even gotten himself stuck in a circular loop! He thinks he doesn't deserve good things, he thinks he doesn't deserve to be happy, or be loved, or be human, and this sort of thinking makes him undeserving of those things, and he knows that, and he keeps on thinking it because he wants to not deserve those things! This sort of negative circular reasoning is like getting hit by a parked car; just don't!

And he talks like he's the only one with these problems, like he's the only one who'll ever understand, as he looks right into the faces of everyone who's ever had worse, and tells them that he has it bad, like the whole world has been bullying him specifically instead of him choosing to dig further into the pit.

He thinks he's martyring himself! Like his own suffering makes anyone any happier! (Well, it evidently makes his father happier, but that's besides the point.) What a joke! Come around, everybody, look! An idiot! Let's all point and laugh!

He's not even doing it correctly! All that happens when he talks is he starts fucking venting and making everyone else upset at him and feel bad. If you're really martyring yourself, why even say anything if you don't have something positive to say? Just be a good person and die quietly in the ditch. Shut up about your problems, everyone else has it way worse and doesn't need you adding to it.

Anyways, as you can clearly see, this lil fucker is completely worthless. Waste of air and oxygen. I'd tell him to just jump, except he doesn't even know where his nearest bridge is and hasn't bothered to search it up. What a fucking failure. Tell me, seriously, why should I ever care about him?

Oh. Wait.

That's a mirror.

I reach for the bright future

and I fall just one inch short

It is good enough. I have done enough.

But it is all unraveling back again.

I changed my direction.

I chose the better path.

I worked towards truly living.

So why is it falling back apart?

I convinced myself I could be happy.

I convinced myself I was allowed to be happy.

I convinced myself it would be better to be happy.

So why do I feel like I deserve to suffer?

Do I have anything to say for myself?

Do I have some sort of penance to offer?

Do I regret my choice, or only that I failed?

Should I regret my existence, too?

was the pie in the sky just another fucking lie?