A waving day.
Looking for the spire–
Of gleaming sunlight–
Breaking down the haze
Cordially arriving,
In sultry saves–
Idle yet wild.
Fevered blood–
Dripping sweat beading.
Breath tattered,
Torn in the gale
She has words.
Whispered through the sun–
Tingling skin hairs,
Bristle and roam–
Against the grain of ways.
Tired in time.
Empty as a dry cup.
Wondering sunsets,
Orange, green.
The crisp taste.
In glazed,
Sweet ecstasy.
Shadow down,
Burning red tears,
Stained walls, luridly–
Hope shouting breathless.
Gone for dark tomorrow.
A peeling destruction.
Shaken trunks,
Center astray in form,
Sloshing chaotically,
In temperamental tribulations.
Broken borders.
Pain.
Running with anger-fire,
Distrust, touch,
Shocked and dismayed,
Struck by lightning.
Rotten, beguiled by stink,
Lust trades hurt.
Swallow hard.
Regretting the done.
Wanting for clean tomorrows.
Helplessly.
Promise me another try,
Cast in pessimistic thought,
But still holding tight,
To the rod of caring,
The plunging cold steel,
Of wrongness,
Gripped with bleeding hands,
In love,
Mired by his illness.
Days where you lose track of the core thing, the center of meaning… It’s terrible. When monotony and foolishness lead to desperate attempts to change the rhythm; I often become lost in the ensuing regret. I’ve been here before, and I wonder why I have not been able to prevent myself from blowing up my world.
I’m truly a good person inside. I have a good heart, and I don’t lie my way through life or pretend myself into ignorance or whatever. I try to be compassionate. Mostly, I’m a burden, a weight because of how I’m fundamentally configured. I’m slow to notice a digression. It hurts me to see how lost I’ve become sometimes. Astray from the warmth of love. Letting it get covered in dust.
I do my best, and fail anyway, every so often. I am woefully sad about my recent most damaging and traumatic act. I feel your ache, your pain, your broken trust. I burn inside with frustration, that I can be so fucking stupid sometimes. I literally amaze myself.
I don’t have words that make it better. I have real gut-wrenching sorrow. I feel like an entry in a journal, descriptive and exposing my weaknesses plainly and starkly. My deep-rooted flaws. I need help so badly, and I’m making minor progress towards a better state of being. But what I can’t be, is clear. It’s painful to realize your ceiling is somewhere nearby.
The ruin is in my constant questions: like do you, eventually, deserve better than me? Am I a really shitty person, all told, and I am incapable of being a good partner? I’m not sure how right anything is that I’m saying. I’ve lost sight of the burning bright of the real.
I’m begging for forgiveness, but I’m dying to turn back and redo it all; instead, I’m trapped in the murky trench with boots full of corpse-blood. I can see no productive end to my spiral into shame. I will eventually learn, and ponder the idiocy of my regular actions with some solace in change. I am in deep doubt of myself, and wondering how I never cease to find a way to ruin the good things in my life.
I Have been guilty of neglect, and painful in-compassionate stoic coldness. I have seemed dead, callous and annoyed. Frustrating. Enduring my struggle is hard enough for ME to handle, let alone you too.
I’m not making any news here. I just love you. I’m going to try to be as good a person as I can manage, for as long as you’re willing to keep me around. I’m devoted to your rubs, sniffs and gestures of quiet complexity. I desire to know how we will change, and grow, and keep loving each other nevertheless. I don’t know where we’re going, but I want to be there with you. I miss your whole head.
I’m in a sad place now. I have to go be distracted by something that will get me out of myself.
Have you ever been stridently right? I mean… like center of the bullseye and shit. Boom, statement delivered, done, thank you.
How about beating you boss into the ground like a train spike?
Ok, done. Trash talk, to date, has been OFFICIALLY BACKED UP. I proved it by winning, game over for you. TAKE THAT contradictory opinions! BOOM.
It’s nice to open the season winning both glory, and a huge beer when Saeculum Obscurum went 1-0. I won in the “Bailey” (now Ideus) league as well with 1.21 x 10^9.
A guess at the meaning of either name is appreciated. I highly doubt you will get either of them. I’m like 4 levels deeper than you.
I sound like such a shit head. But in reality, I’ve answered huge dissent, angst and conflict amidst the league managers with clarity, and decisive vocabulary.
They were disagreeing about whether a trade should be vetoed or not, and one poor bastard was on his own screaming about how unfair it was and that he’d voted to cancel it, and hat he would even have declined the SAME TRADE if offered to him… anyway, I answered the opposing forces with the following statement:
I totally think the best leagues have guys who discern, contemplate and
(importantly) differentiate. Our varying opinions only make us consider
alternative views, hence, new information. All thoughts and opinions are
welcome, and contribute to our vastly different drafts, starting rosters
and future trades.
(Dude who disagrees) brings up good reasons for disliking the trade between (The two people involved in the trade),
even if the league itself doesn’t wholly concur. Our reasons for liking
or disliking a trade are SUPPOSED to vary, because we all have an
equally kooked-up whacked-out talent assessment ideas. No one knows how
anything is going to go. We do all seem to have some SOLID guesses. But
who has anything more than that?
Seriously, If you know a player or coach directly that you get your
fantasy leads from, let me know. Because I want in on that action.
Friends, we’re ultimately, the victims of chance. All we hope is that
the injury bug stays away from your team, and a few of our independent
educated guesses (hopefully, more often than not), worked out.
As (a guy who says “peace” often) would say:
Peace
Because we all have reasons, but in fairness, you can’t talk shit unless you actually DO what you said you were going to. I bet my boss I could still kick his ass WITHOUT two of my best receivers. DONE. Please administer the penalty to the loser, and send them to the oubliette of utter shame.
It’s only week 2, chill out kid.
Hard days I’m traveling alone for too long
I’m missing you
I’m always somewhere that I never belong
I’m missing you
I’m moving so fast now it doesn’t seem true
I’m missing you
I’m getting closer but I don’t know what to
I’m missing you
If I had you beside me
Then I, just might sleep through the night
Your love, is the promise that guides me
All of the days of my life
This life I’m living’s getting so hard to feel
I’m missing you
The days are empty and the nights are unreal
I’m missing you
If I had you beside me
Then I just might sleep through the night
Your love is the promise that guides me
All of the days of my life,
All of the days of my life
Hard days, I’m traveling alone for too long
I’m missing you
I’m always somewhere that I never belong
I’m missing you
If I had you beside me
Then I, just might sleep through the night
Your love, is the promise that guides me
All of the days of my life,
All of the days of my life
All of the days of my life
A fire is passion.
Raging.
Yearning.
Burdensome words drop–
As stones hit the water,
Sinking down,
Deep in the mud,
Of sallow promises.
Memories that burn in–
Purple waves of regret?
Stifled against real actions.
Do we feel the same ache?
Bloated perception–
Paint falsehoods casually.
Deletions, of the unwanted truth.
Cast into the unlearned–
Being within the atrophy.
Sinister fragments mind,
Represented by the beguiling lie,
Lessons forgotten and purged?
Truth concealed–
bloody shrouds soaking in–
The wanton again,
Of grievous error,
Repeated.
Repeated.
Neurochemically Challenged 