no_navi

taken.
frozen.

all i have is empty
all i've built is crumbling.

taken from me,
my frozen hands no longer protect me.

i'm falling asleep at the wheel again.
lights on,
veering off.

if you won't wake me up.
if you won't catch me.

i'll fall off this cliff.
i'll crash and burn.

falling asleep at the wheel again,
i'm falling asleep at the wheel again.

and i can no longer wake myself up anymore.

i feel it,
my stomach dropping.

my vessel falling.
i still sleep.

i've fallen asleep at the wheel.
plummeting,
i break through what i thought was real...

falling asleep.
having fallen off

the path again

Holding tight to her umbrella, she shutters in the rain, and is clearly not dressed for the weather. In her summer dress, she stands, waiting in the corner of a middle-city basketball court, surrounded by tall buildings and small trees constrained to small steel grates and enclosed in concrete jails. Rain pours and slaps the very faded lines that quarter off the various sections of the court.

She stands,
and she waits.

in the rain
under weights.

the wide brimmed hat on her head, worn and torn, beaten, and stained, still sits atop her head. From the winds that pulled it, and the feet that have stomped it; she still wears it.
She stands, now shivering, and peering skyward, through the crease in her hat and the ridge of her umbrella.
the darkness sheds it's weight upon the city and the little beat up basketball court on which she stands.

and she still waits,
and she still stands.

under it's weight,
with trembling hands.

in her summer's dress, in the heavy rain, in her worn out hat; she stands and she waits. for the rain to stop, and her clearance to come. her recollection to stop, and her pain to waver.
so many places, so many hurts. all that she wants, and all that she waits for; a clear path to the sunlight, a road to the warmth.

so for a moment's wait longer, she stands in the corner; enduring the cold, and listening to the rain.

after that moment, she stepped onto the court, held her umbrella high and the mounting winds pulled it directly from her hand and into the air. She then gripped her hat tightly, and walked briskly from the desolate mid-city basketball court.

She moved,
and she left.

the rain poured,
and the darkness moved with her.

trying to find extreme music, the perfect sounds to bring out the hidden words hiding deep down within my gut,
and i cannot find that music,
so i settle with something i haven't written to. we'll see how it goes.

i have no profound exclamation
i have no deep anger to speak of
i have no conviction to strike here.

i'm just here.
and i'm perfectly fine with that.
not all things are meant to be profound
not all things are supposed to be deep and crippling
not all things are supposed to strike one down at the mere mention.

oh, the epicity complex.
(epicity: v.rt. epic. a state in which something is epic. epicity complex: n. a disorder in which an individual is under the notion that all he or she says, must in fact, have some estranged, deep, convicting meaning)

so here,
i just wish to be.

and abandon that. and in doing that,
i feel like i still strike some deep, unnecessary meaning.
even in being simple, i am complex.

good grief.

難しい、ね？

well. the music... worked?

oh pokemon,
oh lossless,

oh where be me.
i see no bee.

how now?
and how!

stand here.
wait there.
watch this
hit that.

where will you be,
when there is no one on your left
but only on your right?

i say!
all i wish is that all things will fail
all things change
all things destroy and rebuild.

when everything's gone.
anything goes.

C:\....switching music selection... loading.. loading... loading.......
C:\..Load complete

and we slip.
and we fail

who will be there.
who will guide the hand that bleeds
the hand that's burned.

will you be there.
will i fall.

stand for the carpeted cause.
see the blinding light.
and lose your sight.

blinding sight!
when everything's gone
anything goes.

C:\Music selection terminated.. loading new selection
C:\New music selection found
C:\Loading... loading....
C:\..Load complete

strike your pose
and stand through your salute.

young boy,
old man.

enter: smoke screen.
silhouetted figure emerges.

go through the rain!

eat undelectables!

stomp stomp stomp.

jump jump jump.

pant pant pant.

C:\terminating transmission
C:\experiment.exe failure
C:\shutting down....

It feels as though it has been mere days, or perhaps even less..
As I travel, travel across a plain,
A plain, and a under a clear sky.

But here,
And now
It has been months passed.

And here,
The grass is dead
And now,
The air is cold.

Sitting in an upright position,
In the back seat,
Looking out the window.

Feeling nostalgia strike me
Feeling the change of this go around
The difference in situations.

Here I sit
And here I watch

And here
I sat
And here
I observed

Listening to meaningless squabbles
Wishing for silence
Feeling helplessly crammed

as now,
I wish for sound
While sitting in silence,
I sprawl out
…


Two extremes
Two seasons
Two occasions

And only one destination.


And it’s here..
I sit in nostalgia

Recalling the past
And observing the present

Sitting here,
Oh sweet nostalgia.

i find myself
running short

running so short
of much needed breath.

and i find myself.
freezing in the drift.

in the rift.

and i find myself
loosing my footing again

i find myself
losing strength again.


my run slows to a walk,
a stumble and a crawl.

and i hack and i wheeze.
as i inch my way forward.

with one palm, striking the pavement
and pulling me forward, at a time.

i find myself.
growing more tired.
and losing more consciousness..

i have fallen asleep
i have fallen away.

and it's time..
to welcome:
defeat.

we always hear that one laugh,
that pierces our souls,
that one howl
that torments our ears.

we always hear the things that we fear

will drive us to madness.

and my laughter,
drowns in fear

and i shy away from
the eyes that stab
with blades of ice.

and that hallway
that points
that jabs
that jeers,

and stares.

the laughter will always be there.

to remind me..
that i will never belong.

cast out.
thrown away.

and left in the cold.

all by my own actions
all through my own strings.

my neck is constricted in the noose held in my own hands.

and yet i still feel the disdain
the pain
and the disheartening loudness

of the laughter
the collective laughter
from those i love
from those i hate

from the ones i know
and will never even see.

i'll never understand.

i'll never know

i'll never laugh.

the way they laugh,
and they'll always be able to see..

that i can never laugh
as they laugh.

... i've come to hypothesize that, the quality of the music one listens to, is directly related to the quality of life they come to embrace and lead.
with that said...
onward and forward with something completely unrelated to the above statement. i just wanted to throw that out there.

have you seen the moon?
have you seen the water?
reflecting tide,
crashing light.

through the beauty and the pain
we push through.

through the rise and the fall

through the love and the loss.

the waves grow restless
but they hardly grow at all.

they swish and they slap.
but they hardly rise and fall.

they make ripples
but no splashes.

the waves are restless.
but they do not grow.

they ebb and they flow.

back
and forth.

back
and forth.

repeating
repetition.

and not even the undertow
will sweep one away.

there is no sink or swim

the waters are too calm
against their will.

the waters grow quiet.
and still...

fear the loss of their ability to move.



but i hear the restlessness.

and i'll splash and crash
and slap and kick.

i'll raise a ruckus
i'll move the waters.

i'll create movement
i'll create a tide

i'll create a wave.

so crash down.
so rise high.

and sweep me away.

and rise high, the tidal wall.

and that's all i have to say about that.
i have never heard such a blah blah blah.

my mind is tired and so are my eyes
and my computer feels like a stranger.

that i haven't used much in months.

and my eyes grow ever heavier.
as i muscle out this pathetic waste of words.

blah blah blah, mi me mo me bleh bleh bleh.

and my neck is struck with a tambourine.
oh woe is me.

i wish you were here,
i wish you could see through my shell,
the prison i locked myself into,

i wish you could see me..

for who i strive to be..

i wish to look into the rain.
and see the colors.

not the darkness overwhelming.

but i find no relief,
because with no sun, there is no rainbow.

i wish you could sit with me..
i wish you would stop trying to predict and mis-analyze me..

i wish you would've waited.
i wish you would've come..

to wait and watch when the rainbow finally does break through...

and i wish i would've braved the weather,
i wish i would've stretched my hand out farther..
i wish i could have you sit with me..
and endure the cold with me..

i wish to actually see the sun refract and reflect,
and i wish i could see the colors streak through the sky..

but all in all.. i wish to have you with me..

and i feel,
i feel
that old familiar sting,

as i run,
i run
aimlessly,

will you watch,
watch me burn myself out

my own super nova

no amount of screaming
or raging,
or crying,
or laughing..

will ever bring me to silence..

as i am falling

always falling.

always,
always falling..

always stinging ice cold winds
cut into my face and body.

sometimes..
i just wish to hit the nonexistent ground...

just to end my falling,
my perpetual falling..

no one was there,
no one to stop it.
no one to catch me..

i am...
failing.

Welcome: Fin.

and i find myself
embedded in deja vu

a vicious cycle

no matter where i try to run to.

death and pain follows,

i am nothing good
i am unrest.

no peace will ever reside within me.

..
i again bring confusion,
i again reap pain.

i spring like a trap,
and i hurt those,
i wish to be close to,
and in my desire for closeness,
i push away.

a pattern i am all too well acquainted with..


no love,
no life,
no peace,
no rest.

all i have known,

nothing changes,
while everything changes.

i never should have opened my mouth.

where are the stitches,
where is that dark room?


Welcome: Final Act..

...

sleep wears heavy on my eyelids,
and weariness tears away at my brain..

so lost,
so tired,
so cold,
so distant.

and no sleep comes,

so i sway my hand back and forth slowly in the air
with a sweeping motion; with the back of my hand flowing away from me as i push out
and my palm drifting as i pull it back across my vision...

conduct,
orchestrate,
compose,
transpose,

this is a ballet,
this is a bullet.

that i feel wedged in my mind,

no sleep for me,
no sleep for the silent,
no sleep for the lost.

no tune will set my mind at ease,
no song will lull me to sleep.

with the ballet in motion,
all i can see is deprivation.

and sleep does not come..
..
to those who do not deserve it.

RAGE
RAAAAGE!!

unfathomable rage.
it engulfs my being
and it burns my soul

on my body and mind it takes it's toll..

my body quivers
my heart wears heavy...

so much anger harbored
so much bitterness held in.

i can barely contain my disdain
and i begin to lose control..
..
i, not long ago, had the thought to burn that building to the ground.
the irony would leave me howling
all the way to my padded cell.

..
RAGE!
so much blind fury
this black fire
scorches my spirit.

i am destruction
creating tension
and trampling friendships.

i want to watch them burn.
i want to leave my mark
i want to shock them all.

i want to die with nothing.

i harbor
so much pain

i hold on to so much
bitterness.

it frightens me
it scares me
it terrifies me.

i am.
mortified.

and my mind digresses...

i wonder..
why do i hate so much

why do i care.

why do i harbor.


and yet..

i can't let go..

in the fear,
we reach a never ending pier.

who am i to see,
what causes the pain in me

who are you to
bring the sorrow to my door

to the point
that the joy is something i can no longer feel.

the fury builds in my chest
and i unleash nothing perfect

and in my blindness,
...i reach the end...

...

there is nothing left for me!

i consumed the cobras of a bloody past!

and establish my place.

i killed the joy!
and in doing so.
my fate was sealed.

i inherited those scars
i took the name!

i am the power
hanging in the balance.

and i am marching forward!
not for king,
not for country.

no patriotism
runs in my tainted blood.

i take haven
in the fields of battle.

and i single-handedly
thrust the world.

into having zero future..

(!)

what i bear
will bring no fruit

only the fires of war
and a distorted vision.

only to create more legless serpents
fighting for the right to walk.

only to find a dead end.

i was called the final son,
of the legend.

and a terrible child, i am.

as the estranged cellos and violins screech in
and the slightly detuned piano clunks along,

there is a tree
that falls asleep,
never again to be awaken
by the morning's breath.

the leaves wither and fall
rustle and blow away.
spreading and tumbling
along a desolate terrain.

the violin sings its dissonant song
and the cello rumbles its low, outlandish hum.

the piano continues to diminish and fade,
and the color..

flees from the tree
rushing aimlessly,
to find a new home.
but dying quickly
at the hands of the drying leaves

and the eerie three part harmony of the loosely tied stringed instruments..
closes with a long sustained note, fading slowly...

with the sound most resembling that of
the creaking branches,
the dying leaves,
and the distant wind
rushing through the dead tree.

and night...
falls..

falling.
and falling faster..
with a bruise and a cut,
on my right knee

i again find myself in a free fall
and i again find myself...
being comforted,
by the sting of the cold wind rushing by my face.

i find my solace..
in the absence of anything stable.

as i fall.

i speed toward the tumult,
the rage,
the wave and the rock.

and i just wrap my dampened, shaking arms around myself
and close my eyes.

as i brace for impact.

and i draw in as much water filled oxygen as i can.
before crashing down

Welcome: Act III (post intermission, pre-final climax.)

i once heard it said.
there is a place in the sky
so high
too far.
to fly
or reach
by car.
or craft

but i hear that this place
is the home of the one

the star gazer
the star harmonizer

so naturally
flying
so gracefully
singing

high above
anything we can say
we know of

but what of this
gazer
this singer
this dancer
this other
this lover.

who are the creators
what is the nature.

of this star dancer

and why do i find
my mind
wander
drift
tilt
and dip

dabble
and sift
on the subject
of this star lover

this star gazer

and a calling falls
onto my falling ears

i close my eyes
and tilt my head into the wind
slowly blowing
lightly shifting.

and i sway.

and in swaying
i can hear myself think

"where oh where
why oh why

who am i
to think
that you are
what is
on my mind"

and in rocking back and forth
the cellos hum in
the violins fade in

minor
minor

slowly resounding

no major
this is diminished

"why oh why
where oh where

who is it
that knocks;
that beckons"

i tilt back
and feel the sky

lay heavy on my cheek
lay heavy on my heart.

and i feel something cold
something damp

slowly slide
slowly glide
down the side of my face

"why oh why
where oh where

do you go
oh fell tear
oh fallen star

back to the sky
back home
why is it,
that you cry?"

i finally open my eyes
and i realize

i am perched
on top of a tall tree
on a small hill
in a mid sized town

high high above me
far far beneath the
earth is all i can see

what will you be
in time of slight

falling fading
dancing swaying
lifting singing
pounding inhaling

nothing is all i sing of
and something is all you hear of.

petals fall
leaves crawl

scratch and scrape across
cement and asphalt

and all i can think of

is a star-clad sky
cloaked;hidden
behind a city's
night portrait.

and how my thoughts accelerate toward the ground below
so far below

"why oh why
where oh where

who...oh who..
are you to be who
reins in my clouds
who oh who
are you to be
who holds what rains?"

the image of my leg being caught
in a noose
and me dangling upside down
from a tree.

keeps coming back
it's been in my head for quite some time now..
and just now..
i wonder why.

and every time i imagine this..
i'm in a crowded place
being looked upon.

and i just dangle there.
not embarrassed
or distressed even

i just

hang
upside down

from a tree.

i don't think it has any significance whatsoever.
i just think of it from time to time

just like the way i think about things like..
fighting a comic book enemy
making a fool of myself in front of a large crowd.
things like that.

so i think i'll just sit here.
and dangle from this tree.

and as the blood rushes to my head.
i'll think of the expressions on people's faces

and wonder how i got caught in this tree in the first place
for who would desire to capture someone in this sort of trap in
the middle of a busy street?

as i ramble on.
i watch nothing in particular.

and in being struck down
again.
i see the morning Son rise,
high in the sky

warming me.

and in bleeding
i realize
that i can fight.

warm these cold bones
with that purging heat, oh sun
and i am alive
again..

i feel strength again

and i feel a smile break out
across my dirt covered face
and blood pump through my veins

i can run.
again..