Generic?

I suppose light is far away, and close. Dignity as well.
We can look at leaves through the window all day and wonder all day why we are only looking at the leaves of trees through the window. We can stare at the fence holding in our pets and wonder if it is really moral. We can stare into the eyes of a broken soul and think that they have the answers; they just won't put them to use. We can set on our asses and write blogs all day about how we think and how others do, but will we ever really... will I ever really, make a difference? Or will I sit behind a screen with a mind using the very essence of idle to talk through a motionless matter? I'm not imagining I'll do anything less or anything more; I am just being like everyone else. I am pointing out the obvious so that I may seem slightly at fault but yet slightly above everything else. Is it working?

International Center Of "everything that matters to us"

We are a little like a guide book.
"Configure your adapter"
Start>All programs>Accessories>Command Prompt.

The beginning>Of everything that matters to us>And everything that matters to anyone that matters to us>I'll tell you what you must do, promptly.

No one reads this.

I don’t convene thoughts in my philosophy chair anymore and I’ve allowed my window to slip away.
I haven’t been proficient, nor have I seen the moon recently… excluding my talent for graphic reminiscing.
I suppose I’ve allowed my imagination to slip away, any ideas on obtaining it?

Your vintage, modern, grown-up infant.

An exciting sense of realization.
A new view of a modern kitchen appliance, though I'm far from in a modern environment.
The creativity of a historical studio in New York, in a small town farm house.
The inspiration of a goose-bump itself, A romance so dear,IT'S silk. It's scary and your fierce. Sweet boy, I've never loved, before I loved you as I do now.

Silk traffic.

I ran out in traffic so that you would save me because I didn't want you to feel bad for what you could do to me. You asked what I was thinking and I replied, "You have no need to be afraid of hurting me, I owe you my life don't I? You saved it."

If you have ever truly stared at a feather you will notice the softness of it puts silk to shame.

It's only okay when I'm the one using humor in your goodbye.

You've excelled deeply in the art of goodbye.
Is it getting easier for you while you excel, or does that dramatic effect of yours, really mean it is painful?
Does it matter that I didn't stay calm and collective this time? Does it matter that for the first time, you gave warning?
Does it matter that when you didn't listen to me, I ignored you humor?
Does it matter that never before have you seen a little bit of human nature exist in me and now you have seen it full throttle?
You said see you all in hell, I say get your own line, that is far too common... But I want to say I'll be counting down the days.

Dear _______ ,

The poetry you wrote was never yours, rather than a bearded man with a football and a cheesy smile. I would have liked it better coming from you.

Backspace.

Do indeed, fear the future.
The nose of a child, held high, not knowing she is being reconciled nor recorded.
The disgust towards a boy who knows not but porn and ignorance.
The genuine girl with no personality and the girl hidden behind the wall of shyness and the fear of judgment.
Take a second-glance; some things don't change with time.
A boy with so much love in his soul you feel it radiate, he crafts custom shivers down your spine. He is goofy to hide the feelings.
A person who does well in the comfort of boredom.
A creative genius often seen from the past.
A little note that makes you roll your eyes. No one cares about security?
Status in the form of school uniforms and private labels.
Gossip spreading through the air making you cringe and the sent of nothingness.
Dehydration, and nick names.

Originality is the last thing from original?

Ah, The same is bland?
-----------------------------------
Happy music to block you out. :D
This attempt will work, compliments to Eli for his i-pod suggestion and i-pod. :D
--------------------------------------
All the smiles in the world,
All the flowers that grew wild,
All the old women with their committed old men on Sunday mornings.
I love to be dazed; He compared me to the moon, elegant, mysterious. He said I was like a child, just want to be myself.
He says my fantasy world is wrong, but I love weeds.
I like to believe that it is the life I will live one day, I am aware I’m not proactive.
You still like me, opposites attract?
But I like daisies and the way I imagine fresh air smells.
I like to fly with my wings.
I like to soar through hail.
I like to roll in the mud.
I like to scream and act up when I’m alone.
I like to be a hypocrite of my own mind.
I like to be in control and be controlled.
I like to be stubborn and I like to be convinced.
I sail on a pony too the moon and I don’t care if you don’t think I make since.
I want to live in a box but I’m claustrophobic.
I want to make sense but I’m too ironic.

A failed attempt.

I’ve became a world of fashion rather than a world of grace, though I’m not trendy, and I don’t try enough.
Grace used to be a given, shut up.
I’m trying to write, I don’t even care what you’re saying, I’m rude.
One day I’ll burst, stop intruding on my happy writing.
Where was I? No, I’m not arguing with myself.

(insight?)

Would the speech just end, I don’t even glance at you.
Do you fail to recall how irritated I am by you?
Do you not realize? I know you’re capable of comprehending.
You are a hypocrite, pretending not to know an adequate amount, shoving people around like you are the one in possession of the sky, yet rolling your eyes and overly sighing when people annoy you or distract you in the slightest bit, laying judgment on others.

You are not even conscious of the sky. When was the last time you stopped, shut up, comforted your soul, and gazed at the clouds or the stars or the blue sky? Ever prayed for the moon?
No, because you are too busy pushing your way through life with a stupid excuse because your thoughts are scrambled. I know you could work through that. I’ve never really had the urge to snarl at a person until I met you, but you will always be too oblivious to see you are the only person that can make me so unmerciful.

I tried it, I'm sitting in a library, my computer at home broke.
I tried to gain a pound in one day once just see if it would bring me down.
I tried to not curse infront of strangers.
I tried not to curse.
I tried to ride my poney everyday.
I tried to gain all of my third grade knollage back.
I tried not to care.
I tried to care.
I tried not to be angry.
I tried to hold a grudge.
I tried to learn Frech.
I tried to be special.
I did not try to intruige you.
I tried to look happy.
I tried to look angry.
I tried to be thrilled.
I tried to be scared.
I tried to be calm.
I tried to be the same.
I tried to be different.
I tried to be busy.
I tried to be free.
I tried to fly.
I tried to be down to earth.
I did not try to intruige you.
I tried to be sexy.
I tried to look bad.
I tried to stand out.
I tried to hide.
I tried to look unhappy.
I tried to look glad.
I tried tried tried to understand why I try when you already love me.
And I love me too.
I tried to figure out why we do.

If you wish to remain standing in my path,
I am not eager to prohibit you, but you ought not condemn me for the imparities, for the pain, I will incidentally cause.
---
The moon gave me cold chills again, warming my stomach like a child being calmed,
Peanut butter and crackers and microwaved cream.
--
I felt thoughtless when you vanished from my view, but you appeared gorgeous in the short time you rested behind the trees.
I've stopped the dreams of winds, though I wish I could bring them back.
Though more illiterate than ever, I just don’t relate to myself anymore.
---
If I could be less complicated:
If you please to stand in my way,
I am not willing to stop you.
The moon gave me cold chills again, warming my stomach like a child being comforted.
Peanut butter and crackers and microwaved cream.
I felt numb when you disappeared from my sight, but you looked beautiful in the short time you rested behind the trees.
I've stopped the dreams of winds, though I wish I could bring them back.

I seem to always be dizzy. On a ride, excited, yet highly dreading it at the same time. Wishing I could just shut everything down. Just wait for the right time, wait until I'm ready. I keep pushing, like running up a hill, you are dizzy, sick, tired... feel like you really can't push anymore, but you do. When your finished you're too tired to be proud or to look back at all. Sometimes you do just give up, then years later you find that it's still on your plate, that no one is going to rid you of the pain it carries. The people you love leave, the ones who leave progressively cause the most tears, indeed, but not the most pain.

You start to appreciate things, tend to not care that no one will hear that song you wrote or the words that you make. You find someone worth friendship and loose people you guessed were worth your time. You learn that your brain is wired differently, but yet you never cease to stop wishing for the person that will understand and be intrigued.

The end comes near and you don't really give anymore, empty words tend to come out of your mouth. You want nothing more than to be content, but often you find that being crazy was your last option. Your dreams stay the same while your conscious mind tries to trick you out of them. Your split personality starts to nip at your ankles until you swat it hard enough. It will be back by dinner.

key words.

Eventually things pull together.
thats all I have to say.

Check er out.

http://kateriot92.blogspot.com/

(she's the diggity poo)

How could I not recall who I talked to?
I’d been waiting for that dialogue long before you could have contemplated.
You’re wearing me down; I don't even use my soul anymore.
I don’t want to go back on stage and smile, but damn I can’t frown.
I used to fly I think, but I have no Idea why it was so nice.
I am taking off, I took off, why am I still durable here?
Where did it go, it disappeared?
A fine place to live, sure, I've got that.
How can each person be in motion right now? I can't believe what I see,
so boring, the world moved on without me.
I ate my dreams away; I worried myself to sleep perpetually.
I use so many exterior words, where is my connection. I am kind of fed up with how, who, why isn't this about you? Why don't I feel captivating in this enchantingly dark place?
Is it bad that I can't think of anything worth saying?

Treasure map.

It's like finding the pieces to a tresaure map, one piece might be small, and you might still seem out of hope after you recieve it, but then you find this HUGE piece. You know it must be almost half. Your excited. You suddendly have more hope than ever before. You love that one piece the most. It is the most treasurable to you. You love it so much it seems like the treasure itself, but don't get destracted by it. There is still the other parts. The parts that make that one piece so magical. Remember that once you find the rest of the map, that one piece won't be the world to you anymore. Don't forget that once you have found that the map led you to your treasure, the map will only be a memorable piece of paper. Almost like a picture. It won't be your everything anymore. Just like the people now. This family, they had to leave. I'm not a huge piece of there map, but a decent size chunk.. They have to move on to there next piece, as do I. Though they played a giant roll in my map, and I love them dearly, more than the pieces of the map that are nearly invisible to me now, sooner or later, they will just be a big part of a bigger picture. A memory. This is okay, there is no reason to be upset. Sooner or later it will all make since. I'll be sitting with my life treasures and then.. boom... life won't matter anymore. I'll die. I'll leave this earth. All that has happend will be finished for me. I will start a new life, have a new destany, and appriate but not grasp on to who you've been to me.
I love you, but I want you to make the best of yourself. Your doing the right thing, your a HUGE part of my life, and I hope I've helped you half as much as you have directed me to confidence and dreams, the layer of my life at the current time. Thank you for being my favorite part of the map and letting me make a real best friend along the way.

sail over the stars

My desire to be in love with you, my desire to be comfortable. It has came true. But My stronger desire to flow with the moon and the skyline has forced me to let go of any reality that was holding my dream together for us. I'm not sorry nor will I be when I'm alone following the moon to a wonderful place behind the sea's tucks and cubbyholes. I will find the end of the new year.. I will sail over the stars on a magical whim. Dancing unmeaningfully.

Clash

You can start out pondering one thing, being inspired, thinking, this is my type. This is where I fit in and clash with innocence… This is going to be great and… subdued.

You are in a completely different place. Another state of being, mind. Your memories are no longer real, though you long for them with the pit of your stomach, with that gauzy feather-like place some where under your skin between your eyes. You want to grasp them, no feeling within can illustrate how much you long for them, need them.

In a book I just read today, a character said this “it’s like a song, that you will never hear again. Your favorite song.” I could say it no different nor could I say it in a better way, for when you start to put behind you what you‘ve unintentionally lost, that song, it bites and kicks inside, begging for your attention, you need it and it needs you. You have it.., until a noise, until you notice, until a remark in some part of you brain, until you come back to revisit…except for when you need it most…except when you try. But if your soul finally says goodbye…there it is, kicking and screaming in the calmest way. It’s a tantrum for you, a peaceful tantrum.