Holy Hell I have no face's blog: "In My Head"

Beyond what I know is real is infinate panic ideas that seem to vanish the minute my fingers slide around them and in the mean time, I'm left with unanswered questions and unattainable foundations. It's ever present, the malignant hole, that only gets bigger as the space between the understated denial flounders for meaning and acceptance. Is she real or just a version of something I saw on the shelf of another yesterday? An animated shadow of what could have been a glorious glimmering star, now just a waning amatureish dullness that has been rewarded in pieces of unhindered existance, groundless bottom. I've followed the footsteps set forth in front but in efforts I see that I've only started to go backwards into the depths of something that can only be described in short sylables Like the ooh's and ahh's but never more. Bound to this truth that in reality only begins in a lie weaved for posterities sake, it's become a rather tireless chore to emancipate from the ideals of a little girl and her pink and purple world. See beyond the window of time into the casket that holds these dreams, these aspirations and all of the "should haves" because we were all to scared to hold it in our feeble hands.

...because if it's love, you will know.... ...because if it's love, life will show you... ...because if it's love, you can look past the shallows.... ...because if it's love, you will endure pain.... ...because if it's love, vulnerability will be your guide.... ...because if it's love, honesty is the rule.... ...because if it's love, the past will be a mold.... ...because if it's love, mutual respect is a work in progress.... ...because if it's love, detachment is possible.... ...because if it's love, there will be no butterflies.... ...because if it's love, 15 minute arguments are common... ...because if it's love, it may not be forever.... ...because if it's love, it's worth it...today...and tomorrow.

It's like i'm manic and in the mean time...it stops time does, for that instant when everything won't stop spinning and then it all crashes. I'm bleary eyed and teary faced because now the revolutions in my head, where the right battles left for control won't stop rotating and spinning and then it all crashes. Talk to me now because when you wait too long, in length of words, you don't have a chance to appreciate the movement I may take you on while your world starts spinning and then it all crashes. It's a magic ride with little shag to excite your senses but enough to cushion your fall even tho the padding is a little old and the fibers are spinning and then it all crashes. Shake and bake today because tomorrow we may not have the meat...sustinance or substance in the wit and wisdom of a rather revolutionary mind because eventually.... it all crashes.

It's like time stops moving in that instant, that moment when you realize that tomorrow no one person will look into your eyes. The rodents have started to use little pieces of me towards their own abuses. I'm part of the cycle that begins and ends underneath. I appreciate the visits, but the pain I'm causing, with just my Name and Dates, doesn't really mean anything anymore, i can't feel. I've noticed that you've grown quite a bit and that your hair is much longer than before, it seems a warm place to be I'm very cold. The dirt is heavy ladden and minerals have started to seep into my prison these scavangers just another way to ensure constant regeneration.... I left you without word, without choice without conscious, without goodbye... And I burned for it...deep inside.

Find more to fill your empty space, a hollowed face that screams of the massacre of thousands and thousands of dreams. Your ease and understanding constant ramblings that make sense to deaf ears that yearn to hear your sound. Frankness and Truths are vacant and lies blatant founded in egocentrisms that Dr. Phil would be scared of. And those piercing eyes, and the tears that lie a puddled mass of timeless manipulation against moral obligations. But you come out ahead, while the rest are dead a mess you've left in your wake...and I hear you laughing.

commodity (def.) - Something useful that can be turned to commercial or other advantage: Left-handed, power-hitting third basemen are a rare commodity in the big leagues (Steve Guiremand). 1.An article of trade or commerce, especially an agricultural or mining product that can be processed and resold. 2.Advantage; benefit. 3.Obsolete. A quantity of goods. Forgive me if I don't understand how life can be lived where people, places and things are commodities. Chips for barter and trade for the benefit of where you may or may not be or what you may or may not need. No regard for how your flippant actions affect the emotional stability, a naturally human condition. And in those respects, even your children have become a major pawn, Just another sacrifice. And yes, on the surface you are surely the victim because the price paid is never worth whats given. But the solitude you feel at the end of the day will continue to be your ghost while you are the merchant, we your trade.

I find the humor in all of it, from most meaningful to the least possible scenerio and it all seems like just chatter in my ears, because when I hear what people have to say, it just all basically sounds like a jumble. Originality is one thing that humanity can not exist without, but what chooses who will be the leader or the follower is basically a riddle in itself. To become something you are not, stretching to reach the unattainable, is an effort in futility, but often times being wrapped up in the drama of it all is enough to get them by for the moment at hand. Together with all the bullshit pilled high to the heavens and the unaccountable words they utter to eachother, it's all just a ruse for the manipulation under all the blackness. So don't think for one instant, that I don't know where you are comming from, because we all have hidden agendas even if our wings are of puritan white and our pupils are dialated with extreme misguidance and an over abundance of conspiricy. I know your kind, because I have worn your adornments on my head, and the treachery of it all is that you will never see beyond your enamourment with the here and now. I'm calling you out, all of you, because if I can hold myself accountable, I sure as hell hope that you will see me hold you accountable. I will not be fake, and I will not ride your ride Mr. Coachman. Your horses are tired and I have become very restless in the seat beside you. I am done being your tramp, I am not bought like common whores and your theivery is something that intrigues my destitute heart. Now come to me, and show me that there is something else, other than the mask that you've grown accustomed to wearing. Show me that there is hope in your common sense and the mentality that is supposed to come along with age. I don't think you have it...but I dare you....show me.

It's just an excuse beyond the words that have become your "I don't knows" and "I'd wish you sees". Foward, freefall into a liar's pool of wet dreams flled with exhaultation. Masterful artist, when the pen runs out of ink a pin-prick for the real creative juice to stain the pages. It's harnessing the energy of inegmatic facination about the simplest of life's lessons. I wrote without you today, in my heart, the vile emptiness blossoms lyrical musings. And if you care to inspire a word or two, I can hand you the knife that bleeds creation. If it's passion you crave let me show you how my body grinds against powerful rhythms and rhymes. Don't interpret what you choose to see as artistic expression when mounds of fanciers exclaim praise. Just understand, that in name alone you hold the title of revolution and a birthright of literal geinious.

i've become the mastermind in this languid state the existance belongs to those who actually care about what they see facing them in their horrid reflection. do you see what you want to see? do you see what you need to see do you see what you really are? i'll hide you until i myself can't find you anymore, inside a once cold and ruthless heart, filled with tangled vines and constant tumultuous agression and pain. i want you to see what's really me i need you to know what i am i dare you to climb inside. i've banished all ideals that have anything to do with joy and the emancipation of my grief and constant guilt that has driven me for years. i beg you to know these eyes i beg you to touch this skin I beg you to work your magic. and now, in a weakend state of appeals against the raging madness that has awakend, do I? or don't I? and who is really going to answer me this time? i've begun to loose all hope i've fogotten how to love i've lost it all again.

Forget the indespensable, the vile and reprehensible understand the violence that comes in silence. Describe the manifestations profound alterations beyond the desires inside all liars. Bound in confusion blackend illusions forgiveness is lost martyr and it's cross. Unveil the deceptions many masked intentions if it's really just a game no desire to blame. Incrimination with sound the voices all around I've given all my power in my soul's final hour....