#somethingpoetry

Was it really all set in stone did I trap myself in a wheel is life just a zoetrope giving me the illusion of real? I thought fate was undefined but now my life is in confines like a marble circling the drain everything I do is preordained Not like I can complain i'm too comforted by the same i've set in motion the next year of my life ingrained and frustrated will I be if anyone attempts to thwart it one small deviation it's commotion irritating I will not let it be distorted Was this what I asked for? A future already laid out for me? A metronome never peaking ever slowly ticking to the center? I thought life was a story I tell but all it is was a carousel this hourglass shreds the same grain everything I do is preordained i just want to jump off this train not do the same thing over, over, over, again.... I remember how my childhood dreams were like a playground, i could do what I want, I could do everything, that window of opportunity just kept shrinking the older I kept getting destiny was a topic up to debate for me as this world's boundaries kept impeding trying to define the only thing that made me free but was this prophecy inscribed by me or is the powers that be at fault for my tragedy? there's a comfort in mediocrity a simple joy chasing the carrot on a stick i had the scissors to cut that string but maybe in the deep recesses of my mind there was a insistence not to otherwise was it really all set in stone? did I preordain all this just to keep my life plain at home? oh no, here comes the function again... Was it really just the rotation of planets that has kept my life spinning right back to this drab earth where I don't lose but far from winning? I thought the cubicles were far but now my door is barely ajar like drawing circles in the sand my futures already been planned Not like I would reprimand i take pleasure in the mundane all the structural i lived next year like it's today and bothered will I be if one tectonic shift disrupts it not my fault when I erupt I can't allow it to be sifted Was this what I truly wanted? a heartbeat flatlining by everything? to let this horizontal elevator take me to my grave and predestination? I thought ideas were for pretending but they're scripted like happy endings I'm trapped in a single picture frame everything I do is preordained I just want to even feel pain not to avoid it avoid you, be devoid ever ever again... My naive brain can't contain the big dreams and big goals within which is why they flood out my eyes in incremental decrees so it can be shoved in the shoebox suffocating my visions of beyond dead brown eyes all occupy my face I'm automatic and rudimentary was I the cause of this effect? is a invisible force struggling against the hopes I can only plan on having? it might play well to my ego just to blame others for this misery but seeing as I don't experience, merely react, I've been living the life to the bare minimum at it's fullest, but was it really the rotation of planets that preordain me to this shell of a human being? just so breaking out of it would be fleeting? so id' never break the mold of life's ultimate meaning? was it a excuse I've grown to start believing? look at me, all my sentences are still scheming.... Was it really set in stone? Was it really set in stone? Was it really set in stone? was it (all my hopes and dreams) Was it really just a carousel? Was it really just a carousel? Was it really just a carousel? Was it (everyone's fault for everything) Everything I do is preordained every sentence and measure aimed precisely to fit a statement (I thought fate was undefined) precisely to fit a statement (i thought the cubicles were far) every sentence and measure on par (I thought ideas were for pretending) EVERY FUCKING THING I DO IS A ENDING! Avoid consequence avoid experience avoid existence avoid feeling everything is preordained anyway I wish it was just my fears I wish it was just the wind but I can feel the end on every fiber of my ears over, over, again, again, avoid, avoid, devoid, devoid everything is preordained anyway I'm a book being read to it's last page I'm a old man ready to unplug of age I wish I could just fucking pretend but I know how this story already ends EVERY FUCKING THING I DO IS ENDING! NOT LIKE I CAN COMPLAIN I TOOK THE RIDE ON THAT CAROUSEL I TOOK THE RIDE ON THAT TRAIN I MADE A STORY I WAS TOO AFRAID TO TELL I WANTED TO LIVE ON A FLAT PLAIN I COZIED UP TO MY OWN PERSONAL HELL I LIKE IT WHEN IT'S ALL PREORDAINED OH GOD WHY AM I STRUCTURING AGAIN?! WHY CAN I STOP BEING A ROBOT EVER?! JUST GET ME OFF MY OWN BRAIN! IF ONLY UNPREDICTABLE WAS SANE! JUST LET ME BE UNIQUE AGAIN?! EVER? AT ALL? ONLY? WHEN? it's all... it's all the same.... whether knee deep in agony or high off my own shit I project my fate like it's beyond reshaping I've drawn a million different circles in the sand the planets all rotate in a million different ways was it really all the same in retrospect or is this subtle variation a decision I make forgetting the optics of my own imagination I deliberately made so limited mistake the forest between the trees can't read between the lines to understand the meaning life is ready to be chaotic with me maybe I could preordain life unnaturally and be free once again? avoid all semblance of functionality? break this stone I set into grains scrutinize the geology and find new avenues to run aground? unique or mundane it's all the same all preordained whether I like it or not...

Death is a beautiful thing passerby's gawk at the orange the trees radiate throughout Fall we hold a frame of genocide still like your Pet's taxidermy a picture like a window into the frailty of life How your elder's bones builds a landscape of tombstones across and otherwise quaint plain what's dead be built new again a low of conservation embedded from the rich to the poor, all dead Death is a beautiful thing intentionally bearing rotten fruits so trees can exhume it all mountains erupt into fountains lay waste to the planes there but grow soot from the mold a natural recycle neverending How your media iterates tragedy like a ongoing tirade while projecting a placid demeanor the rotten will make things cleaner nothing comes from nothing every log chopped breeds something On the backs of a supernova precious minerals abound in it's dismay On the backs of a dead animal maggots and flies will thrive today On the backs of a fallen leaf the trees can survive the winters on the backs of a rotten tree Fungi make their home unhindered Death is a beautiful thing These memorials stand stronger like scars layered on the bodies we cut the losses and broadcast it like our history books remembered by what it creates more than how it was destroyed How close we cling onto mortality, as if it's everything can't let go of the temporary willing to drag it out for eternity something lost, something gained innate strength pulls from pain On the backs of the deceased gives birth temples to their domain on the backs of a massacre political aims fire up again on the backs of our trash new world's are waiting to be got on the back of our food Golgari farms the feast out of rot Death is a beautiful thing don't hide from it don't scare me of it we are inevitably borne by it and thus dead already.

A POWER HUNGRY TYRANT OUT IN THE OPEN AND WE'VE BECOME BEHOLDEN TO HIS OMENS CHOSEN TO SIT IDLY BY WHILE LIBERTIES CONTINUE TO DIE IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED NOW?! IS THIS HOW YOU WANT TO LIVE?! AIN'T NO ONE TO BLAME BUT OURSELVES NOW!

maybe a little loneliness is appreciated in a world full of mob mentality You want humility? That's a foregone conclusion when everyone has a ego to comb looking for a new mouthpiece to swallow their words like a vacuum puke it out at their detractors like flies ready to devour the discourse in victory I've got by on my own never needed another one to tell me how it is how I should be loneliness was my weakness now it's my greatest necessity in a world run by mob mentality Isolate the ideology Isolate the audience Isolate the demagoguery then you have true thinking free of red tape and back pockets the real person is revealed under the clout of tribalism how'd you think I got this far on my own? You want humility? you don't seem humble yourself crown yourself a valiant knight on a invisible pedestal fighting vestigial enemies virtue for it's own sake sharpened as the cudgel and the executioner and the jury are in on it as well Maybe a little isolation is necessary in this world of homogeny I've got by on my own never needed you to tell me what I think what I say as it should be loneliness has its caviats but i make it's strengths legendary push back this world of homogeny Isolate my photos Isolate my projects Isolate my person my privacy is made public not a single verb uttered in a different tongue the real me is always here over that hump of bipartisanship how'd you think I got this far on my own? You want humility? you desire something you can't have you demand others to be what you can't you destroy people absent of your bubble you decide what is virtuous to cloud your sins I think a little isolation is a virtue when you want a world of pedantry I've lived this solitary nature all my life I made it on my own even with people around me i see the beauty of the lonely from the street lamps to the trees the essence of my photography is a vessel of what's inherently me We're just on a rock in this universe we're already alone amongst these stars and rather than reach so far we ground ourselves to the mud and glue ourselves to our guns our gods, our skin, our sun Isolated on our seas Isolated on the border walls Isolated on everything humility maybe found if we aren't spent preaching proselyting another's ideology subdue the swamp of hegemony and we'll get to those stars on our own... If i've got by this far on my own perhaps anyone else could Maybe a little isolation is a treasure rarely seen.

Couch quarterback surrounded by a sea of perceived lava still can't lift a finger to pick up the slack or work for the better if you hate the state of this place why stay? if you aren't making the change why complain? Lying in a pool of money and tears lying to yourself we're not fooled yet you're still here willingly flung on a bed of thorns you laid out neatly if you hate the state of this place why stay? if you aren't making the change why complain? Proselytize your political pet peeve lounging on lawn chairs of your lackeys speak sheepishly of your dissenters avoid arguing or activism for an audience coast on controversy over coherence willingly whinging on the west will you wet your whistle on it's wings Hedonist laid back on a ivory moat in the ocean still can't paddle across to find new ventures or rest on more laurels if you hate the state of this place why stay? if you aren't making the change why complain? Got life so good make up the bad got to keep an act so as not to curb your mood yet pretend you're sad crocodile tears filled a glass of self fulfillment If you hate the state of this place why stay? if you aren't making the change why complain? Devoid of debate and devotion meander mostly on moral mazes vapid voice reverberates vein verses assemble an alliance of armchair ascots capsize conversation for chattel fill a theater of friends frolicking on fighting fascism facetious If you're in the mood to go why wait? if you don't even know why debate? Why wait? get out if you hate this place Why debate? shut out your opinions won't be saved If you hate the state of this place why stay? if you aren't making the change why complain? Why stay? admit it you're getting the best of it Why complain? shut it you ain't got nothing to say Continue to control countries you characterize as callous binging on beers brewed by the bars of the bereft pillaging peasants of perceived privilege in petty places stay at a state of sin you scree sitting like a statue save your opinions you'll always say and if you aren't willing to make a change why stay? admit it, you got the best of it...

I see your glare at the history books all the wrongs written all the rights undone treating the past like the present as always eclipse your beliefs and your moralities with a time you couldn't even percieve your navel gazing and outrage is all relative yesterday's idiots are now the geniuses your given perspective is only relative to where you're looking your up could be their downfall all of it's relative transferred and alternative to your own being I watch on the TV the statues of icons of a antiquated time thrown astray by you crybabies acting like revolutionaries as always compare your virtue and your status with the dead and the actions fargone your far reaching and whisking is all relative empowerment, government, all of it's relative to your choice distinction of where you lay your lot morality, authority, all of it's a perspective equal parts subjective how you mold your world spin this globe and put your finger on it see where it lands tell me without bias how you know this spot is destined for greatness? spin this chamber and put the bullet in it see where it stops tell me without knowing how you know your life won't be surely fleeting? Yet you cast your derision on the parchments and those tablets insist we must erase them to reflect our values relative to the past as always once your beliefs are tainted and your gospels are tarnished to be cast away for the wrongs rather than the lessons' learnt maybe you'll appreciate that perspective Your virtues will soon be the vices all of this is relative changing and alternative have a look around you laws to debase once coveted principles your livelihood is subjective forever a placative in a now soon to be antiquated so stand proud that you believe what everyone else does soon you'll be too controversial to speak out soon you too will find yourself questioning your morality because if the past is the ruler you measure yourself by relative to the present that stick's only going to get shorter until you can't squint to judge it all of this is relative

While I'm on here i'm frozen in place moved only by wind and my car my eyes capture photos in my headspace along the way live for these moments every scene is golden but I have chosen not to be live at the moment I only exist in this virtual prison alive on the static dead and automatic so much more of me I could share in glimpses of real time live for these moments every step is golden if only I could hold them but I'm not live at the moment I'm only alive, at the moment with my deviant retorts and these status reports and my online rapport I'm not in it for the moment with the constant grinds while my phone reminds of those anonymous likes I live in the internet's subconscious and while I'm not there I'm not live, at the moment While I'm away i died the same day to be resurrected once I got things to say my mouth has words you've never heard before along the way living for these moments sparks of genius verboten glance of speech chosen not to be live at the moment I only exist as an avatar and a username being outside is insane but there's a world yet to be entertained a window of life in these fleeting moments all chances broken glue them back hoping I could live for the moment I'm only alive, at a moment on every minute I play this game for only every text I type in vain and how this shell chooses to be displayed I'm not living for the moment when I further disconnect as I live on threads of ethernet chugging on repeat like a record I live only in a second of the internet's millenium and while I'm away I'm not live, at the moment If only.... If only I.... could see you as you are feel you as though you're real peel this veneer off the screen reach out to you as though you're here am I only alive when I'm live on this platform I solidify every moment I've not chosen to exist as a entity, my body feels encased and frozen If only.... If only I.... Could be here in my own form speak to you with my own mouth unplug the cords to have an accord capture the scenes that my eyes have seen alas I'm only alive when I'm live hit the record and play me out all moments a time capsule for the present future in mind all moments lost and found in score I'm lost...in a moment You'll never see Living...in the moment You'll never believe only when I'm live Do I feel truly alive Live...at the moment you can only percieve Dying...for a moment you will be decieved only as I breathe in your web feed am I even alive am I even alive? Live for the moment every scene is golden but I'm still frozen and I've still chosen to only be live at the moment not alive at the moment say goodbye for a moment like I've died for a moment to be revived for the moment I don't live for the moment...

Franchesca Ramsey likes to say she is so concerned over wage inequality in the United States, primarily between the white and black demographics, that she will make not-so-subtle passes against white people, while throwing the usual generalities of 'systemic' and 'institutions' to explain why the african-american's are so impoverished. Yet, asian-american people are the most well off overall, earning more than white people in a 'white' country, and committing the least crimes compared to either demographic. If you bring this up to her, now her generalities in regards to other races are gone, and her defense becomes a matter of scope and nuance as to how 'certain' asian people are impoverished in America, while also still generalizing all white people as being well off. To this I say: The lady doth protest too much.   ANTIFA is a anti-fascist organization that is purportedly trying to stop and cull the rise of the white supremacist, neo-nazi, ultra conservative wing from regaining control by means of force. So, in order for them to do this, they will ruthlessly define, with their own terms, who is or isn't a nazi, and then proceed to get their message across, by force, to guilt and terrorize others into submission with their ideology, becoming fascist in all but name. To this I say: the group doth protest too much.   BLM calls itself a civil rights movement that is trying to fight against police brutality against black people and other injustices that BLM thinks black people go through in regards to the court system, or economic means. However, their means to do so is to chant for the killing of all cops because of the actions of ones, and deifies all the black people who have had engagements with cops regardless of context as to how the situation was escalated. Any white person who holds any doubt to it will be castrated as a cog in the system of oppression against said black people, and  BLM ultimately wants segregation between black and white people in order to 'save' black people from their oppressors, contrary to what the civil rights movement achieved To this I say: the group doth protest too much.   The catholic religion will tell you that objective morality only exists through their religious teachings, and that any who say they have are only proving their sinful ways. Yet, those who follow their own religion work on the sabbath, eat pork, mix fabrics, and often engage in homosexual activity under the tablecloth when their old testament has verses that denounce those moral virtues, with their only defense being a 'repent' for their sins. To this I say: this theocracy doth protest too much.   Feminist Frequency is a youtube channel run by Anita Sarkeesian, who touts the usual political arguments indicative of third wave feminism, such as with her notorious 'Tropes V. Women in videogames' series, where she attempts to criticize the nature that women are depicted in said videogames. Whether sexually, or otherwise, most if not all women are not ideal to what Anita wants, yet she will also use the very tactics that she is against when it suits her, such as with the 'Damsel in Distress' trope in regards to her claims of sexual harassment. To this I say: the lady doth protest too much.   The Alt-Right is a alternative conservative front that has it's motives set against the regressive left, while also not being a mainstream right-wing party. They personally feel as though their 'white identity' is under attack, and feel the need to retaliate in the polar opposite that black supremacists would in regards to theirs, not realizing they are playing into the hand of the regressive's who use their race as a brand to shame them. To this I say: The group doth protest too much.   Their sincerity is lost with me, touting on their pedestal the virtues they claim to hold, while also contradicting themselves in the process when it suits them. They doth protest too much, reminding you constantly, to reassure you, that they truly believe in what they say and they really thought this through. But anytime you address a foil in their plot, it's a matter of how well they can divert from it, obfuscate their intellectual dishonesty to keep their shattering worldview afloat, while continuing to let their pedestal stand on a thin wire. They all doth protest too much.