Fuck neat titles, I just wish the thought of reading this would ever cross your mind.

Don't fucking tell me what's good and what's not for me. That's what being fucking young is about. Doing whatever the fuck you want. Doing shit that you would never fucking dream of doing once you're a full grown adult cunt. That gives you a bit of motherfucking freedom in this fuck-ass shit world.

If the two people that fucking own you until you're 18 don't even fucking grant you that freedom, I don't see what the fucking point is in living through this fucked up life anyway. Ending it sooner or later won't fucking matter.

Maybe I should be more balanced. Maybe I should care more about making a puny, unimportant fucking omelette to make your fucking arms flutter. Maybe I should show more respect. But I do. I fucking do.

I just can't show it. You see, if there's any teenager that respects his elders a shitload. It's me. I just think you're perfect. Honestly.
And that's why it's all fucking up now. Because you're ridiculously perfect, and that's a fucking hard thing to live up to. And I have since given up. I want to live while I can...which is something I don't think you did.

I'm gonna live twice the fucking life you lived.

But I won't push off completely, I'll keep guard on serious things to fall back on once I'm done with this whole growing up shit.
But I still want to feel alive, before I'm pretty much a dead fuckwad. Before I'm fucking incinerated or buried in a fucking pine box six feet under a shit-stained world which offered the little freedom I was fucking willing to take.

I sometimes get the impression that you have never sensed pure life on the end of your fucking fingertips.

I am one of the rare people that are aware that it's fucking impossible not to get sucked into that devilish spiral of society. But I'm not even fucking there yet. So let me have my fucking fun while I still have the option to be motherfucking FREE.

I know it's hard on you. I know that I do things you will never ever understand. I'm just fucking disappointed that you didn't try the same things when you were young, so that you could at least tolerate my lust for life.

You'll never fucking believe your eyes when I don't end up, washed up on the shores as a fucked up hobo with nothing to fucking put in my fucking dry mouth, pleading you for some fucking spare change.
You'll see when I end up right in there, just as reasonable a cunt as you are.

And you'll be proud. Yes you'll be motherfucking proud.

And I'll have twice the memories to live with and cherish while I work in an office doing a job I've never fucking liked earning more money than I would need for my own bastardly ego.

I've seen the way people completely run across life. Or simply fucking avoid it. I've seen people missing out on the subtelties and the awesomeness the world has in stall for you.

I don't want to be boring. I don't want to sit on my fucking couch every night, watching an annoyingly cheesy TV show. I don't want to wonder how much fucking fun I could be having at this very moment.

I would like your company. I would love it. I actually love it. You know that I've always been deeply engraved in you. You know that I look up to you.

But I know I'm smart enough to do even better. I'm gonna fucking live. I'm gonna live with passion. I want to be with my fucking friends while I still have them. Before they'll all break up to leave each other alone to deal with that fucking fuckshit bully that is money.

I fucking love you. But the fucking problem is that the sobriety of your youth is tainting the boundary-bending nature of mine.

I will do what it takes to live life to it's extent. As far as the rabbit hole goes. Before I'm lying on my fucking death bed wishing I had done this or that.

You say I isolate myself from you. It's you that have fucking isolated yourselves from every adventure freedom was willing to offer.

You just don't realise the subconscious peer pressure you inflict on me. Ordering me to follow in your fucking footsteps. I don't want to live the same life as you. I've heard so much about it. I want to live something new, unexpected and extreme.

Honestly, life beats perfection.
I want to fucking live in the moments where you just resorted to exist.

Fire.

I know you're gonna find this repetitive, but I just can't get these things out of my mind. It's going to be Circle Takes the Square again. Another song/poem that makes me have that fluttery feeling somewhere between body and soul.

The softly interwoven, yet forcefully shaken words that will follow are dark, deep, yet infinitely true and haunting. I do believe this poem's about self-realization and the realization of your surroundings and your, admittedly infested, nest...that we have all grown up, lived, been knocked up, and died in. With no other option.

Though this poem is surprisingly long, every single word affects me and glares at its twin, that is hidden within me.

I read this poem and it lights me up.
Like fire.

It just seems like it pinpoints a light at me, exposing the deepest part of my conscience and ripping it out, frantically keeping it an inch away from me. And so I read the poem to get closer to what is buried deep within. This is so much more mind-blowing than any regular life has to offer.

Let this light you up.

Kill the Switch
by Circle Takes the Square

Map the words to deny, deny the symptoms
As 'oh yeah I'm doing fine'
As I've found a most endearing psychosis.

Somewhere out there there's a thrill I swear
Desperate as I am I just can't strip bare
And bleed the only purity I've known.

But I lay with reason.
I found logic concieved in a walk with skin.
I sleep with reason producing these monsters.

Under painted catcalls as in temptation
Yeah there's a key to be in
But there's no shade, no shade to blame.

Waterfalls in a cool grey
And the struggle
Is colored grey this day

The caw of crows fills up the picture plane.
Our picture plane is veiled in central neutral grey
Absinthe to slight the pain
This world's the worst case color scheme.
Streaks of oil stain
Stained the road he crawled on homeward
Oh yeah, oh yeah he threw the switch
With some unwieldy gauge
Absence of light remains.

I lay with reason so logic
Can reap in a walk with sin
El sueno razon produce monsinios.

When does this dream end?
Now I've missed
Another whole season.

I've missed the fall,
Clearly its fallen on this land
As fields once green are ochre now.

This is no dream. Trees have turned to skeleton
Roots teased and knotted
Just below the surface skin of ground.

Stitched between the earth
And the sky
Struggling to hold it down.

Sometimes to realize you have to lose track
Lose track of sight blurring my vision
Makes it clear that tiny moving parts make up the whole.

The image is clear, a tower is built of my own pride
I cry in the shade that if offers
The only shelter I have.

When does this dream end?
This is no dream
This is the waking living breathing caricature of a memory.

Shamelessly I cave in to temptation of creation
But still my only thrill
Is empty sidewalks, silent streets.

The caw of crows fills up the picture plane.
This is your picture plain in central neutral grey.
This world's the worst case color scheme.
Streaks of oil stain,
Stained the road he crawled on homeward.
Oh yeah, oh yeah he killed the switch
With some unwieldy gauge
Absence of light remains.

Life is lowly anonymity
In death a noble pose, a Marat David.
Tell me who wouldn't give their lives
For such a soap box to die behind.

Life is lowly anonymity
In the space of a smile I found sleep
As in sorrow, so shall ye reap,
As in reason so shall ye sleep.

Reap the promised end to the struggle
Reap every point on our linear path
Reap the smiles in time we borrow
Every harvest relies on the last.
Reap the promising song of the sparrow,
That they learned from the birth of sea
Silenced by the threnody of the crows
Reap the fallen fruit of the dogwood tree.

But I witnessed in all this silence
One souls definition of beauty
And a backlit smile so temporary.

A facade so rich with evil history.
Cast in direct opposition set to
Overwhelm this moment to shine and sleep.

Came out on top of what was borrowed
And found all that beauty to be still
Every breath as in sorrow
Reap the promised end to this path
By every image that we borrow
Every harvest depends on the past.

Subdivide in factions our linear parabola
We subdivide our waking hours to sleep
While guilty eyes turn toward a porchlight
Enlightenment is losing sight.

Somewhere out there there's a thrill I swear.
In this low light town when my shift begins
The streets reflecting yellow, yellow, yellow
In the vacancy that overwhelms the red, red, red
Your vehicle the color of expansion.

"Open up." the latter just a thought to thrill me
"Knock knock knock" the latter just a thought to thrill me
"Red" is a four letter word. Four letter invitation
Now my head is locked in the direction of the sun.

Life is lowly anonymity
In death a noble prose, a Marat David
Tell me who wouldn't give their lives
For such a soap box to leave behind.

Life is lowly, anonymity
I know its all been done before
I want to do it again. I want do it again.
Kill the switch.

This night our journey's through the dark
Kill the switch, a welcome comatose
Tonight we journey through the darkness
As in sorrow, so shall ye weep,
As in reason, so shall ye sleep.

Ignorance is bliss.

It could be easy. I could stop writing this blog and go with the mass since I'm already above it. They're all predictable machines. Life is theirs, they live it their way. The easy way.

Well now that I consider it, all my friends and I are so much fucking smarter than the general mass (that wear adidas trackpants every day and speak like they have a chicken bone in their mouth, might I point out), that we could go into their game, and beat them to it.

We could do that.
The outcome would actually be better than the one awaiting us now.

Our current outcome will not be as glorious. Because we ask ourselves too many questions. Being so fucking smart isn't really that convenient.

Genius is the closest thing to madness. And we all know that the line is infintely thin and fragile...

I don't pity small bugs, the mentally insane or retarded children. I envy them.
Physically, their life is a nightmare, but they're too dazed to realise what a twisted and illogical world us valid people interact with.
Which is, ironically, every sane man's dream.

I could just drift away in the mass and let my originality fade.
I could be happy, albeit stupidly happy.

I really don't know why the question arose in my mind in the first place.

Maybe it's because of change, and how life happens on a variety of different levels.

There is no such thing as understanding anyone else. There is no such thing as knowing how someone feels. You want to live in a world with these things, then go spend your life in fucking hollywood with your plastic friends and hired wife (could also work the other way around). You believe in a fake world then go live in it, and stop bothering the real people.

You cannot understand anyone or feel anyone because we all think and interpret things on different levels. We all make out the signals in the air in a different way. Nothing really exists in the spaces between us. We're all completely disconnected from each other. As we see life in different shapes and sizes, and react to it in some insane ways.

Retarded kids don't have to interpret. They don't have to react. They don't have to feel or understand. They just...are. And we feel obliged to feel sorry for them, because they've been labeled invalid.

If they were aware of this, they would consider themselves lucky.

However much of a rebel you feel. However much of an outcast you are. However much of a failure you fear to become. You are still part of a machine. A system.

And you cannot get out of the system, since you are the system. It draws from you. No one could live without it.

The mass will not notice that. And they will be happy. Oh so ignorantly so.
The invalids will not have the heart nor the physical capacity to care, or even notice.

And here we are. Us. Stuck. Too smart to be stupidly happy. But far too dumb to overpower the system. And here we lie, in a place that isn't easy to be in.

People don't change. We'll stay here forever. And so will everyone else.
The system always wins.

But why do I question my world? Why do I disturb my basic notions? Why do I endlessly push at my mental boundaries? Why do I torture my nerves with this shit?
Why did I even notice the system in the first place? I could be stupidly happy. And all the other people like me want to be too. That's why some of us do drugs or drink. Because it gives us an impression that we're finally closer to that ignorant ecstasy.

So I guess I'll try to live with it in the future. I'll keep all these words stored up somewhere and attempt to live a normal life.
Pay my bills, eat my food, raise my kids, have sex with my wife.

And maybe sometimes I will look back at what I'm writing at this very moment, and remember what it was like to know.

What it was like to be face to face with the absolute truth.

100mph.

You slither through, and never think to question why.
You shut the door, that was your life flying by.

Gravity doesn't grant me the privilege of failure.

Let's try something new. I mean, you've heard enough of my words. Ingested enough of my thoughts. You've been opened to my views.

How about I give you a poem now that was not written by me? It's a poem that gave me the same feeling I've been trying to transfer to you through my own articles and poems.

I think it's one of the most beautiful things ever written. Many people don't see it, because humanity is shit.
"If the average human being can relate to a song that goes 'You like boys, who dig girls, who dig boys, who dig girls etc.' better than to a song that goes 'Maybe I don't really wanna know how your garden grows, because I just wanna fly'...then that is sad." - Liam Gallagher, Oasis vocalist.

Most people think that guy's a fuckhead, but can a guy that says something like that really be a fuckhead? I think not.
This poem is beautiful and deep. You cannot avoid it digging into you and grasping what is hidden deep inside you. It's so beautiful that it even played a significant role in my decision to start all this. Well now I think it's time for me to acknowledge it.

It's a sad poem. Because you can work your way up to happiness from sadness, and that's an effort worth documenting. It is not, however, worth putting the dark fall down to misery on this site. I've stressed it enough before.

So, when you read this poem, consider your life. And maybe then you'll realise how spoiled you really all are. How far backwards our lifestyle has taken us from reality.

Note: this is actually a song by a band called Circle Takes the Square, but I prefer to consider it a poem, because what this song has to offer musically is too extreme for the large majority of the population.

Crowquill
by Circle Takes the Square

Nothing's as lucid as the promise of dreams
But these pills we found just make me sleep.
There's nothing quite as pure as the written word my dear
So let’s have ourselves a little poem.

Until the will to speak loses urgency,
Our animal indecency in print is so blaze.
It’s about the bell tower, at the golden hour.
Angel of the spires climbs here
Steel cage staircase spine, angle of desire.
Ascend the wrought iron, one by one, wrung by wrung.
Is it the rising roof line that
Makes me feel so swallowed whole?
Or the way my body barely pricks the sky?
The same as a century's worth of virgin's blood
That's passed through my longing veins,
Scheming to convince my aching mind
That pleasure's got nothing on the miracle of need.

Nothing's as puerile as meter and rhyme
When you can't see the ground from that ledge
And this perch is so far, far from the nest.
Gravity doesn't grant me the privilege of failure

My bough never breaks; I don’t stumble into anything,
So I climb and I carve my initials in the bark
With that feather I found but its all so contrived.
My genes didn't bless me with the foresight of a sage
But I know how this will end:
In apologies and ink on the page.
A slowly constructed crow quilled confession
Of my spirit to all of you,
Black waterproof ink scars the board,
So hot-pressed, pristine and pure,
A slowly constructed manifestation of "to tremble",
As base as a bridge in a song
And less like the poem that I promised you

Nothing's as lurid as Haiku d’Etat
On sidewalks in white outlined chalk,
All I’ve got is this ink smeared lines
With our voices in harmony,
The offering of a crow quilled threnody.

The agonizing act of making a decision.

A lot of people like to ask...wait let me rephrase that.

A lot of people like to pressurize us about the choice of our future lifestyle. Especially us, adolescents. And for anyone who happens to be reading this who isn't a teenager, don't deny that you've been through the same thing.

Well, we're at the turning point. We've slowly left behind the simple decisions of childhood and are slowly moving towards the dizzying array of choices and decisions that makes up adulthood. But we're in neither place yet. And so all those bizarre thoughts echo through our minds. They can be optimistic, pessimistic, realistic or can simply make no sense at all.

A countless number of people pressurize us to fall into the majority, because it's easier. And, something else that's wrong, is that if you go along with the majority you will succeed. It's not going with the crowd that leads to oblivion. It should be the other way around.

But who ever dreamt of a perfect world? Except for Jesus of course.
But who's ever dreamt of Jesus? Religious people.
Okay then has anyone rational ever dreamt of Jesus? No.
There you have it. Pretty simple really.

Oh and to all you religious folks that read my blog (well I'm surprised you can even stand it since I slate you so much), don't say that calling you irrational is an insult. If you were rational, religion wouldn't even exist.

Although I don't blame Jesus. Actually quite an innovative dude. It's that so many people argue about the colour of his beard or the size of his...anyway back to the point.

So I was saying that the world leaves you with a paradoxal choice (that appears very rational and sensible to many of you fucked, faceless freaks that fell into the majority right when you were born).
But the choice is so paradoxal, and in essence so ridiculous, that you end up accepting it and appreciating it.

I mean, I'm sure many people that are deeply buried in the world's rules and laws could've been the craziest, most pro-anarchy and free teenagers that ever lived.

I think that's when you are really yourself. You don't get mature when you're older, you just learn how to act in public. (Who said that? I really can't remember.)

Life breaks your fantastic stride of perfect and utter self-righteousness. And life teaches you not to act just with your core and what you believe in. It teaches you to build a wall around yourself and to paint that wall a nice little colour you can show to the world.

You shits, those walls have ruined our lives.

I honestly don't know what lifestyle I wish to have, or what lifestyle I can aspire to.
I could have the potential to live like fucking Bill Gates owning hundreds of fucking mansions across the world and drowning in my own goddamn fortune.
I could have the determination and the malice to live like Obama, and control nations that I've never really believed in from the start.
I could have the talent to become a famous actor or famous musician.

But I don't really want any of those things. I want to live the life I want to live. Whether or not that's accompanied by intoxicants or days of looking for a fucking job.

I know that's not sensible. But I want to live with my friends and family. Play music in my band. Go out all the time.
That's probably what will happen in the few years to come as I reach the end of the inbetween period.

But I know that I will stupidly fall in love and then have to support a family. I know that I will resort to getting into a decent university just to survive.
I mean, that isn't a bad lifestyle. No. Especially if I'm in love.

But none of us have the will power to stand up and live life like a part of a dream.
Those who do have had their plan thwarted and their pride destroyed. And they are now struggling to fall back into the majority, having missed the free pass they were given at the end of adolescence.

I shudder at the thought of any of those outcomes.
I want time to stand still.
I hate certain types of change.

I really don't want to have to betray the ideas that I put down on this site.
I don't know if I will.
I don't know if I'll fall inertly into the sickening majority.
I don't know if I won't, and then if I'll try desperately to fall inertly into it anyway.

I really don't know anything. Not until the turning point comes.

Infernal tradition.

It's all about the prevention isn't it?
It's about stopping us younger kids from getting the cigarettes, the drugs, the alcohol. Just like you tried with our 20 year old older brothers and sisters that are now our idols. Well they ended up pretty fucked up didn't they? But the worst part is that we know what's gonna happen. We know the consequences. We know the dangers, the taboos. We know what will happen to our lungs and brain. We know how bad and irresponsible we look. 

And we are going to make no attempt whatsoever, to go in the other direction. None.
We pretend to want to be healthy, a model teenager. But we know that we'll end up the same. We even want it. Soon we'll be the ones intoxicated by a lot of illegal substances, and getting laid with someone that isn't your girlfriend or boyfriend every saturday night.

We are the heirs, the descendants. The next ones up. The classes way above have finished school and are already regretting and cutting down. 

But we still need it. All that bad shit. And we honestly know that it's hypocritical, but the social pressure and the human need is too great. The choice is too simple for us fucked up young people.

We won't follow advice, for as long as we can. Until the day when we'll end up on the rocky shores of adulthood, with all our idols. Now very similar to us.

And we'll drown in misery and regret, trying desperately to cut down and to tell all our selfish kids that they shouldn't fall into the same trap
we fell into. 

But we know, they'll do just the same. They too will have that goal of fucking up. And then it'll be all about the prevention again, only we'll be the ones trying to prevent.
And they will be the ones ignoring us, and continuing that infernal tradition.

I don't know what my gain is really. Sitting in total darkness writing this down for a website not many people know exists. I just think it reminds me of what's coming, and all the traditions lying ahead.
 

I think I'm dumb...maybe just happy.

Bear with me, and maybe you'll feel sorry for ever thinking you would want to go anywhere else. We're too young to care.

Live with me, and be thankful that you didn't fall into hands even dirtier than mine.

Die with me, and maybe you'll feel a hint of guilt and regret for not going elsewhere, but we'll be too old to care.

We won't know who the fuck we are on sunday morning.
Smile on your brother. Everybody get together, it's uber-time right now.
Start living.

Just felt like sharing those few words.
Now go do something else, instead of reading this blog.

A new transition.

Well, we have come this far.

We started as single-celled beings too small to even care or measure up to the life we have built for ourselves now.
We could have stayed like that, and none of this would exist, but we didn't you see. Competition made a huge differnce. And here we stand now, with all our possessions, fantasies and problems.

Some of us say it was all meant to be this way. That everything has been scripted out, pre-determined so that every single move, every tiny change is preset, and has already been asigned a consequence.

Maybe those people like to think that because they are afraid of the future.
They desperately want to find a reason for a few random explosions and reactions that ended up triggering the colossal empire of matter that belongs to us.
The matter becomes so obsessive, that in fact those people completely eliminate the idea of future, and replace it with the concept of destiny.

Yes, it is obvious that you don't feel so insecure when you've thrusted everything that awaits into your God Almighty's hands.
It's much easier isn't it?
You can blame everything you want on the untouchable idea of God.
You can simply cast away the idea of taking chances, because your destiny is oh so conveniently waiting for you at the end of the line.
It's just so much easier isn't it? You fucking hypocrit.

The paths that have made us the fascinating (albeit monstrous) creatures that we are were not predefined. We weren't given a guidebook. Humans went with what they thought best, and have somehow survived.
Tribe became village, village became town, town became city, city became metropolis. And it's only when you look back at it that you realise that nothing has changed inside the world we live in.

It's us that have changed.
We've changed. We've stained our home with the marks of our presence, but that doesn't change the world. That's just changed what we've made of it.

We live, we die, and the wheels on the bus go round and round.
That is the unquestionable, unoverthrowable, truth about the mass of human life.

Now let's zoom in.

An individual, one solemn soul can not have the same view of everything that is chained to the ever-advancing progression of his existence. He is only given a small glance, and that glance gives you chances, choices, opportunities. The way you handle all of that makes you who you are, not your "destiny".

Me, you, other people...even though we're friends, brothers, sisters, lovers, we are all alone. Separate. Unretrofied. We have all fallen into some category: the lucky ones or the not so lucky ones (like I talked about last time).

We're all witnesses of some kind of advancement enclosed inside the great abyss of time.
The elements of change hit us one after the other.
As we get older, we get to know more and more. We're hit by high points, and unbearably low ones. We all progress in time, adding on new elements every day, but we all forcibly keep in touch with the euphoria and ecstasy of childhood.

We react differently as the rules of life slowly uncover. Some fall into drugs, prostitution...others learn, and raise themselves higher.

With that revelation of the truth comes an inexorable disappointment and a desperate need to collapse back into a better past. Commonly known as nostalgia.

As you age, days seemingly get shorter and more meaningless. As you start to see days that are identical to others, whereas when you were very young, every day was a new adventure.

I am shaken by time passing, spitting more and more truth at me. I'm also enjoying the little things in life more now, since the big things can only promise a bunch of shit.

I can not see people change, because I am changing. I'm moving way too fast in the shaky and indecisive period that is adolescence.

But all in all, we are just thousands of thriving minor characters that probably won't affect the grinding path of time. Time, our one true master.

We are all walking down our own private, invisible paths that we've drawn ourselves up to now, and that we will draw until the end, in surfeit or need.
That's life.
That's our time under the spotlight.
That's our existence.
That's it, and there's nothing else.

There is no such thing as destiny.

Unretrofied.

Sometimes I look in the mirror and I realise how lucky I really am. I'm healthy, alive, and I am still capable of wearing a smile upon my face.
Some people can't look themselves in the mirror because they do not want to sense or even catch a glance of the unquestionable truth: that some people are not lucky, that some people can't evolve and move on, because they are busy trying not to die, that some people couldn't even look into a mirror even if they wanted to.

We are the wealthy ones. The chosen ones.
There has to be a loser, and a winner. It shouldn't be that way, but none of us could ever come close to changing that.
We know we are lucky. We see it on the streets. Inside our homes. On TV.
We sense it when we chew on a juicy steak, or drink a sweet milkshake.

Most people aren't strong enough to even consider a world without these things, so they get on with their lives by working in an office doing a job they don't like, ready to buy their fat, fucked up kids another donut with all the crucial money they own.

Others, such as me, like to get a glimpse of the truth, what is below. We like to touch the filth of reality with our fingertips, but we also can't even bear with the idea of jumping in and exploring the rabbit hole.

And then there's that third group. Those healthy Europeans, Americans, Canadians or Japanese that help a poor country or join a help organisation in the feeble attempt to change something. They make a miniscule difference, and they know that even they can't change the world.
They do it because it releaves a tiny portion of the massive burden of guilt all the lucky ones possess, whether they acknowledge the guilt or not.

The leaders tell you that life is a competition and that you shouldn't feel for the losers.
The inert follow the leaders.
And the free write it down, as if the written word could somehow bring everyone to reason.
I do that.

If there is a God, He created joy and bliss for a lot of us, but He forgot a big part of the world.
His heart maybe just isn't big enough for everyone.

Well...short article, but meaningful.
It's short because I don't want to sense the truth any longer.
The path down the rabbit hole is just too unbearable.