Beast-men

Still. We love lions and care for them. Admire certain traits about them and look up, think much of their majestic primate being. Nature and all. We do not hate them, nor want to kill them, and I wonder why. If you can forgive a lion for his brutality and cruelty, understanding that it's his nature and it takes time to tame if need be, furthermore why not your fellow men? 

We are, after all, at the core of it all, technology and years of gained knowledge aside, truly still very much the same primitive animal cavemen were. 

We are but, Animals. 

//

Do we love lions? Yes we do. Certain traits, their worst traits as a matter of fact, are usually that which we love most. Their strength. Their pride. Their violence and sense of survival. Nobody really eats a lion. But lions, like wolves, like birds and fishes, are but like us. Animals, and truly primitive in our own sorts. 

If education and knowledge has stolen anything from us, it is the ability to be truly human. 

Raw, random & ridiculous. 

But so truthful, so honest, so unimproved and bare. 

Not that I don't like life now, but geez. Think how different things would be! 

Who

Nothing else was ever said so true. The love in me, the fight for you. This heart of mine that beats for two, that makes me blue, I have no clue. And at the end of it all, they will remember the essences, the air, the magic and glory, the mystical shadows of beautiful, wait.... Who? 

Dear diary,

'The silver thorn of bloody rose;

Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.'

Forget you not. 

I don't know if you get it, but I need heart to get going. And hearts are never hard. They're beating and soft and red and powerful, yet vulnerable. 

Give me heart. 

Satin soldier, bricks and bones.

So I've been sitting here for hours. This time is no different from the day before, or the day before. 


Repetition, or so they call it. A series of issues I need to address, but all left unsaid, undone, in the midst of the deciding, 'where to start?'

I sit, outside my house, ass on the chair with my body open to the two windows on my side.

The skies are darkening, greying it's whites with an orange glow at the bottom.

I know not what to say of these, which build up inside me.

My quest for wisdom, silence, truth, peace, love, answers and feelings that which I've burned and suffered and convicted myself for.


Anticipation in such context can be such a torture.
A bore, only if we make no sense out of the little moments passing.


Catching in every minute, a thought, a truth spoken from the heart, a memory of a love lost, I wish it were different, in it's pain I have to face.

But for so long, I've tried to run.
Turning to music, to memories, to people, to dreams, of anything but the nows.

I remember a girl, not so long ago, or so it may seem yet again.
Laughing to myself, these words spill so easily somehow when you have so much to say, no?
Lol.


'The truths of metaphysics are the truths of masks. -Oscar Wilde' 
Nothing so wise, else was said.


In men and in moments, I have lived these days.
In many and in memory, a hundred ways.
The forgotten or forlorn, the broken or the torn,
the children of the ages, the greying wrinkled sages.
Some decompose as we speak, most unheard of, only beautiful in the love that they leave.
A life of dedication, or so to speak, is none as worthy as the hungry meek.
To catch on to the waves of a mind, to discover the secrets you will find,
to understand the reasons for the bind, and the truth of the human heart in kind.


Perhaps unaware to the thought that through me runs free, I leave this faint validity.

Works by the hand, sweat and blood.
Worth only that, flowers and their mud.


Words of the mouth, both gentle and uncouth.
In flowers, in thorns, in leaves, all bugs devour.
Uncover the air behind your hair, and find the weight in the unfair.
The burdens too grey and heavy to bear, the love and light, we wear and tear.


There are those and days, and these, that kill me.
But I feel myself being saved, the weight being lifted, only in the words I spill.

I cry in the stare of rebellion, showed only to those whom know me best. 

Who knows I'm not an angel. That I'm really a monster, a being capable of much wicked damage if I choose. Who have seen my rage. Seen me kneel in tears and pain, tearing the pages of my life, the loyalties that I build myself upon. In a relunctant state of facing the truth, but still. still do. Who knows I burn, but see my effort for change, yet say nothing of its worth. 

I am tired. 

So motherfucking tired. 

Still you stand.

Still, know that you are strong enough to lend a hand. Be a friend. Like like men. 

Spartan men. 

Perhaps

Tomorrow comes a day too fast and yesterday becomes a memory you can't change. Today, all you have is today. 

Indignation

Love is like a hug. The only way you ever really gonna get a good hug is if you give one. Want a hug? Give a hug. 

Want love? LOVE. 

Because it's true the core of all humanity is soft and vulnerable, and that all pride and ego, cleverness and smarts, sometimes will cost you more than you think you really earn. 

Be kind. Be soft. And receive only the same. 

Wise enough to know the differences and justify in the actions taken for the words said. 

Blood & love.

Perhaps we are not men who are so strong we can regenerate into the clean perfect state of innocence we were first born into, but instead, we are men walking with scars and wounds of the years behind us, added on our backs, the time not taken for granted, is the time where all memories of moments passed before us is remembered. With each soft ache, a gentle smile and a precious tear. And if you're lucky, you get a friend or two, or remember the sky and look up, you feel the comfort, the love, the hands holding you. Saying, "hey, I know it's not easy. But you're not alone. I promise you, you're not alone." And you believe. And it isn't wasted. Here is home. With eyes shut. In blood and love. 

Vindictive

Because in all honesty, this is what I think.

People are sometimes, far too often too much, too clever for their own good.
More than smarts and arrogance (really another name for Pride), men forget their hearts.
That always beats, that always feels, that always loves and hurts, until it stops.


Or even if we remember, we are selfish in our ways.
Protecting ourselves through it all.

The first step of intelligence I truly believe, is to forget one's self and that only in the freedom of unbound, unlimited possibilities and perceptions, may one truly learn and grow, in truly absorbing, understanding, living and loving. 

The only certainties of this life are birth, life, time and death. Oh and nature of course. Of which her ways are wild and calm and amazing and powerful, beautiful and sometimes silencing, but nature is that which bounds us and it is a certainty we wake up and fall asleep to, everyday. 

The skies, the wind, the sun, the moon, day, night, light, rain, snow, waters, glow. 

All of which each take then to show, but we are always never without one. 

Except for air. That's always there. Lol. 

Dang rang rang

'Silence is lethal for an explosive heart, but the fear of judgement turns men into cowards.' - 'With our hearts in our hands, like loaded guns. We're taking a chance, we're the lucky ones.' Get up. Go on.

Break your jaw on an arrow

And I wonder when it comes to the end, when all is stripped away and the things you pride yourself upon, beauty, fame and wealth, are gone in time, wasted away only in the years you spent working for them, what then would you have, that would heal your heart, hold your hand and love your soul? 

Nothing but the warmth of another. 

Nothing, but the truth of reality. 

We were born, some luckier than others, that the days we lead are brighter and more colorful, happy. 

These that we have were not given free. 

Sacrifices have been made and sacrifices will always be required for any achievement or success to truly be made. 

Carefully, I will repeat again. 

'Use Death as Your Guide.'

'Choose Your Path with Heart.'

I read somewhere in the bible yesterday, that truly, them who are rich in this life, are often poor and in pain, forever. Unless they share what they have without the pain of its giving, unless these things mean little to them and they are always ready to give and share, trusting that they will be thought for, just as they think for others. Even when you think no one knows or no one sees, give and boast not. Sincerely and in all honesty, heart, love and truth, give with the intent of blessing and receiving only nothing but the bettering of another's life. However big or small. 

This is true, and these, I believe to you. 

Today she turns 23,

Sitting at my stairs, eyes out the window again, the air is pure. 

It's fresh and breathes through me.

I am light, I am fire, I am love, I'm a kite.

Wipe your eyes, dry your tears and see it clear.

Life can be so soft, so beautiful and in love, even in fear, 

the ones we love, the life in us and others, brim out loud, bright so dear.

Laughter the gift of life, love, the light in the dark, 

what of which were we born without?

Neither. 

In us, the power of these two are bright and full.

Let them soar, let them pour.

If you're angry, count to four.

You dear child, we all adore. 

For all the love and goodness, kindness and light you receive,

GIVE.

Pledge yourself.

Today you'll hear the music in our hearts. All along, bursting into dust and flames, these voices and melodies will not tame. Nothing will be the same. We're bringing it back to life and his name. 

Full force, full fledged love. 

"To God be the glory, great things he hath done. So loved he the world, that he gave us his son." 

Like silver kites in the night, 

Like violet kisses in the sky, 

The touch of day, makes it all okay. 

The price to pay, the tug of the heart paving the way,

Cry and say, kneel and pray, 

Even if you gonna be called gay, 

Brother, father, sister, friend,

Mother, lover, stranger man, 

I'm telling you. Kneel and pray. 

With all the love in my heart, 

I bless you all and bid you adieu.

My little paws of white & the breath of gold

Loved you then, love you still. Love you always, always will.