I Want Power

Coat it in blue so I may see right through to a world I never knew could be so cold and true.

Everything gets lost somewhere between the thoughts and reality. Words and ideas run away into darkness before use can be made of the small sparks that alight from left to right. This mind is weak and the memory wounded. Like a civilization without a single record the life rolls on without ever recalling a day before. As though each passing moment held no meaning for the next. Each day is birth and each night is death. Dreams are the echoes of days past.

The echo of a whisper inside rebounds, teasing this ever hungry desire for passion and creation. The sweet taste of pride in God's power resting in man's hand.

An old point of view

I have began to hide myself behind a wall of depression. My worries and things I think of and should worry me but don't have come crashing down on me. There's something wrong. Each time I open my mouth to express to another what's happening inside my heart and in my head the words shut off. The brain goes backwards and tells me not to say that, that its stupid and pointless to talk about these things. But if I don't let them out, change things and get help I don't know what will happen. There's something wrong with my mind. It's only half thinking. I'll have a thought about a detail then I will try to link it to something I remember then nothing comes up and the original thought goes blank and blurry. It's almost like on a computer if it has to many registry errors and they build up in the cache over time the computer will slow down. It's like my memories are broken links on a website.  I hate being this person all the time. My emotions swinging back and forth, happy one minute then something that doesn't even matter happens then I'm ready to kill a man. I'm constantly looking for little escapes into my own mind to get away from my life so I can forget about myself.

Realise

You taught me what you did not mean to teach. I grew because of you, though you did not intend to nurture. Your eyes were closed that because of you, I became exposed. You remind me, of the life I tried so hard to find. My love, words I havnt used since before this life. Words I have given to you for my new life. The one which you saved. Your presence have held up more world. My foundation, my support in a world so fragile and ready to crumble.
   I don't see you, I feel you. I do not hold you by my side but I hold you within me. You are my living ghost and my beating heart. Your presence follows me like a phantom even when you are not near. The way you smell, the way you feel. I sense you in the things around me. I recognize them and they remind me of you.

Grow me

Grow me wicked, grow me tall.
Grow me till I can grow no more
Grow me till I soar.
Grow me above it all
Grow me till I feel no more.

Then I die, then I wither.
To see it come, cold as winter
The breeze carries in so cold
The love of light and warmth of life
It breaks on through it shines again
I see you again.
I see you my friend.

Listen with Me?

It's a bit funny how when you get a little bit older you look some odd years back or even a few months and understand something about yourself you never quite got before. When I say getting older I speak of a persons level of wisdom. Each day we gain a little something, even if its memory of thinking the same old thing, we learn something from it.

Recently I looked back within the last couple years. I've passed the stage now but for a while I really understood the words 'music is my drug'. I would escape into songs, let them drive my emotions and I had such a passion that I couldn't understand to spread the feeling I would get from songs to other people. I felt like it was the meaning of life, to share whatever it was I was feeling to anyone who cared to enjoy it to. It didn't work out very well because running around with my mp3 player trying to shove my headphones in peoples ear wasn't the right path to achieve that goal.

Today it more or less seems I've held onto that. Now I collect my tracks in privacy, thought in mind of how others will like them and feel as I did when I first heard them. It puts a smile on my face.

The point in it all

Something I never understand is if there is a real point in me ever writing down what I feel or think. Sure, I can come back to it years later and understand what I felt back then, I ever do that now but it never really helps me. Right now I am pulling myself away from all people just because I don't feel I can take them anymore. We as humans disgust me with our abilities to lie and play games with others and even ourselves. I hate that so many minds are just filled with fog and the encumbrance of our own stupidity, and that I am among them. I can't handle it all to be honest. I want to become recluse and forget about all humanity but I can't I need their emotions, I need their reactions, their love. I don't know how I could live without them all but at the same time the things they do drive me insane and make me feel even more alone than if I was without them. I try to explain myself and how I feel but my words fly right over the heads of the ones I love and trust, I'm again alone.

The hate I feel, hate is anger. Anger is the opposite of acceptance, acceptance being anger's more healthy and 'good' counterpart. I find it hard to just accept the things I am angry about because I feel justified in my angers. Does this make them worse? Does sin become more of a sin when the one who commits it is fully aware and accepting of his sin? I don't believe in such things as sin but it is a great example to base emotions off of. I get feelings that the only ones I could possibly talk to are professionals but they are taught to be the way they are, to analyze people and match them up to well.. Something that will help them figure out what is wrong with said person. I don't know if something is wrong with me. Right and wrong has become so blurry. I know how to be good to people and how to be bad to people but so many things about life feel so wrong.

My drive to write is finally starting to die out a little bit, my ideas more blurred and my heart now resembles the embers from a flame. Still hot to the touch but no longer in a dangerous state. This isn't healthy, the more ash builds up the more of myself becomes buried under my emotions. How long before I become lost? Numb and or dull and dead...

I may not be man enough to hold back my emotions, but with that being said I am man enough to admit I am afraid, of me.

This

I had a nice talk with myself the other day, I feel like I covered a lot of ground and I understand things a lot better now than I did before. For weeks I was in fear that I had been loosing myself part by part. That I wouldn't be the same man I was before, the man who created countless worlds, that had an imagination that could create countless tales and mysterious things. The one who understood things far beyond what many could grasp. I was afraid I had lost him, but no. He isn't lost just tucked away because the life I live today, right now. Is not a place for him, he cannot thrive here. In a time when money is a huge issue, when where I'm going to live, what my job is, all these very world weary things... James, the real James can't survive here. I needed someone else, someone who could just be a work horse, pave the path to where the real James could come out again, thrive, become better than he ever was.

This is who I need to be, right now.