PSA
It’s necessary
To remember that
Your depression is not you.
It may be something that is permanent
And fluctuate,
But it is not something that
You should allow to,
Consume you.
It’s key to remember that
Every moment will pass,
And with each extended period of
Utter sadness that feels like
Sinking closer into the abyss,
An extended period of
Happiness will follow.
//
Good Morning
Revamp your thoughts
Find joy
Indulge in some
Joy points,
Eat a Pop Tart.
A cookies & cream one.
+2 joy points for the day.
Talk to a friend,
Choose:
Baylee
Zach
GK
Gavin
Tyler
Mino
Sean
Malachi
+5 joy points for the day.
Smoke a doobie and go outside.
+3 joy points for the day.
//
I Love You, Doreen
Riding on a hamster wheel
With the firm belief
That one is moving forward—
Please, tell me,
Is this what life is supposed to be?
An empty sea of black,
A lagoon that rests in the night,
Guitar strings to calm you down,
The long shifts that keep stacking up,
The overtimes one clamors over to
Make a bit more ends meet,
Keep on running,
Till you wear down,
Sex decreases, slowly
And eventually comes to a halt,
One’s waist begins to increase,
Ever so slightly,
And then to a point that one
Just doesn’t care,
Because she has to keep running,
That is all she could do,
That’s all she ever had time for,
Because she had a big heart,
And like most with kind souls,
They were manipulated,
And were forced with a choice:
A) conform
B) cut ties & explore the vast world
//
McDonalds
Debt so up to your neck,
That it feels like your entire body is
Being drowned in quicksand,
Grasping for straws,
Grasping for air,
Holding your arms out, in hope that
Your hands will catch something,
A twig,
A branch,
A leaf,
A firm plop of dirt,
Drowning, not in a sea of money
Like one wishes,
But in an array of negatives,
Always having paper scratch her.
No time to save,
Because there are bills to be paid,
Food to be put on the table,
A grown man’s diaper to be changed regularly,
A baby to give green, glass bottles to ogle at,
Fish tanks becoming untended to,
White couches being set on fire,
Dogs being bought as an escape…
Something to fill the time and try to forget how
This isn’t working.
How this relationship is just heading down
One long tunnel of doom,
Driving on the opposite side of the highway, right onto
Oncoming traffic.
I replay those stairs,
I replay the slams,
I replay the hits,
I replay the cries,
I replay the shrieks,
I replay the absurdity of it all,
In my head,
Everyday.
//
It’s all for the sake of interpretation; we choose to do things, for the experience—that is what one gains. What do you choose to do with the knowledge that you gain from each experience you endure? Is that pretentious? Maybe. But it’s true, isn’t it? After each event; after each situation that occurs to you…you endured it. Embrace it; don’t minimize, or some other hoopla my therapist Olivia keeps telling me. Feels weird to be so open. God damn therapy.
//
Always go with your gut; that’s your heart speaking, dummy. Dummyboy.
//
Regularisperfect; don’t think; what will happen, will happen.
//
Bring back music rollouts that make one think; bring back music rollouts that feel like a puzzle; bring back music rollouts that make the music I love, ten times more eventful and memorable. It’s all for the love of music…nothing else. Throw fire to Pinterest boards, guidelines and “expectations.” There are no rules; only feeling. If no emotions are conveyed once the projection has ended; then the creation was completely meaningless.
//
Sitting here in class bored as heck - 4/21:
*
Hey you there
Yes, you
Please
Do not be like me
It is not cool to be
Sad all the time
It is not fun to
Have depression
It is not a pleasant experience
To feel anxious
And out of place
Every time you walk out the door
None of this is
Glamorous
You do not have to
Suffer for art
All you have to do is
Make art because it’s the only thing
That keeps you going
And living on
Into the next day
And flip flopping
From calendar month
To calendar month
All you have to do
Is be yourself
There is no secret ingredient
There is no advice
There is no tutorial
There is no magic ritual
That will make you an artist
That will make you “blow up”
That will make you “lit”
That will give you “clout”
Everything else that
People will tell you
Is meaningless
And a bunch of
Stupid
Goddamn
Flabbing
Hoopla
Do not listen
To superficial
Materialistic
Hollow
Human
Beings
Listen to
Your heart
And you will succeed
![]()
![]()
It’s necessary
To remember that
Your depression is not you.
It may be something that is permanent
And fluctuate,
But it is not something that
You should allow to,
Consume you.
It’s key to remember that
Every moment will pass,
And with each extended period of
Utter sadness that feels like
Sinking closer into the abyss,
An extended period of
Happiness will follow.
//
Good Morning
Revamp your thoughts
Find joy
Indulge in some
Joy points,
Eat a Pop Tart.
A cookies & cream one.
+2 joy points for the day.
Talk to a friend,
Choose:
Baylee
Zach
GK
Gavin
Tyler
Mino
Sean
Malachi
+5 joy points for the day.
Smoke a doobie and go outside.
+3 joy points for the day.
//
I Love You, Doreen
Riding on a hamster wheel
With the firm belief
That one is moving forward—
Please, tell me,
Is this what life is supposed to be?
An empty sea of black,
A lagoon that rests in the night,
Guitar strings to calm you down,
The long shifts that keep stacking up,
The overtimes one clamors over to
Make a bit more ends meet,
Keep on running,
Till you wear down,
Sex decreases, slowly
And eventually comes to a halt,
One’s waist begins to increase,
Ever so slightly,
And then to a point that one
Just doesn’t care,
Because she has to keep running,
That is all she could do,
That’s all she ever had time for,
Because she had a big heart,
And like most with kind souls,
They were manipulated,
And were forced with a choice:
A) conform
B) cut ties & explore the vast world
//
McDonalds
Debt so up to your neck,
That it feels like your entire body is
Being drowned in quicksand,
Grasping for straws,
Grasping for air,
Holding your arms out, in hope that
Your hands will catch something,
A twig,
A branch,
A leaf,
A firm plop of dirt,
Drowning, not in a sea of money
Like one wishes,
But in an array of negatives,
Always having paper scratch her.
No time to save,
Because there are bills to be paid,
Food to be put on the table,
A grown man’s diaper to be changed regularly,
A baby to give green, glass bottles to ogle at,
Fish tanks becoming untended to,
White couches being set on fire,
Dogs being bought as an escape…
Something to fill the time and try to forget how
This isn’t working.
How this relationship is just heading down
One long tunnel of doom,
Driving on the opposite side of the highway, right onto
Oncoming traffic.
I replay those stairs,
I replay the slams,
I replay the hits,
I replay the cries,
I replay the shrieks,
I replay the absurdity of it all,
In my head,
Everyday.
//
It’s all for the sake of interpretation; we choose to do things, for the experience—that is what one gains. What do you choose to do with the knowledge that you gain from each experience you endure? Is that pretentious? Maybe. But it’s true, isn’t it? After each event; after each situation that occurs to you…you endured it. Embrace it; don’t minimize, or some other hoopla my therapist Olivia keeps telling me. Feels weird to be so open. God damn therapy.
//
Always go with your gut; that’s your heart speaking, dummy. Dummyboy.
//
Regularisperfect; don’t think; what will happen, will happen.
//
Bring back music rollouts that make one think; bring back music rollouts that feel like a puzzle; bring back music rollouts that make the music I love, ten times more eventful and memorable. It’s all for the love of music…nothing else. Throw fire to Pinterest boards, guidelines and “expectations.” There are no rules; only feeling. If no emotions are conveyed once the projection has ended; then the creation was completely meaningless.
//
Sitting here in class bored as heck - 4/21:
*
Hey you there
Yes, you
Please
Do not be like me
It is not cool to be
Sad all the time
It is not fun to
Have depression
It is not a pleasant experience
To feel anxious
And out of place
Every time you walk out the door
None of this is
Glamorous
You do not have to
Suffer for art
All you have to do is
Make art because it’s the only thing
That keeps you going
And living on
Into the next day
And flip flopping
From calendar month
To calendar month
All you have to do
Is be yourself
There is no secret ingredient
There is no advice
There is no tutorial
There is no magic ritual
That will make you an artist
That will make you “blow up”
That will make you “lit”
That will give you “clout”
Everything else that
People will tell you
Is meaningless
And a bunch of
Stupid
Goddamn
Flabbing
Hoopla
Do not listen
To superficial
Materialistic
Hollow
Human
Beings
Listen to
Your heart
And you will succeed
2008 Honda Accord
My head hurts
A great deal,
A lot of my mind,
I want to make it all come true,
Not really for me,
No decision I make is for me,
It’s for the vintage cars
That have been very good to me,
And have been reliable,
And always get me to where I’m supposed
To go,
On time,
Because that’s what dependable cars do.
I have frequent fears that
One day I’ll have to arrive at a car deconstruction
Site,
And mourn them…
Blank stares in my eyes,
With only black filling my Iris,
Because by then I’ll have nothing,
I won’t have my glue,
I won’t have the ability to call maintenance
Every time I need an oil change,
Or run for the seats of the vintage
Convertible
When I’m in a fret,
Or a frenzy,
Or am depressed and lost,
Or am frustrated,
Or am in desperate need of
Some advice,
Or am in the mood,
To hear the good old engines
Roar
And chat,
And catch up to their old speed, and laugh,
And smile wide,
With no worry in the world…
No thought about how their wear
Is all crumbling apart,
And their yellow gas light
Is popping up on the dash,
And their wheels are coming to a halt,
Their oil is leaking,
Mileage becoming too much
For the body and build
Of the car,
Fumes and smoke waving high fives throughout the air.
I love my vintage convertibles;
They’ve always been there for me;
Like all family should.
And you know what,
They’’ll still be there for me
Even when the time
Comes:
All the memories,
Lessons,
Fables,
Tales,
And impact they had on me,
Will never go away.
Love, your Grandson.
//
Age
At times when I’m angry,
Or having little faith,
I place myself in the shoes of
My Grandma;
I see everything she views;
I can sense her worries;
I can hear her prayers at night
That are muttered and delivered
Behind a chain of ghastly coughs that
No matter where she seeks shelter in,
Only get worse as the calendar pages flip.
//
Sacrifice
Make Grandma
Proud,
That’s all that matters.
She raised me,
She put clothes on my body,
She made sure the heat was on,
And that the electricity was always running,
And that I never went out the house
Looking like a ragamuffin.
She taught me the value of
Having a moral compass,
She taught me respect,
She taught me manners,
She taught me the importance of
Being grateful for everything,
And everyone,
Around you.
She also gave me this nose,
And this hidden sense of pride,
That unleashes any time anyone
Ever plays in my face.
She taught me what things
To prioritize in this world.
She taught me financial literacy;
Although I’m sitting at the end of another calendar year,
And my bank account is reflecting that
I did not pay much attention to her
Thoughtful advice,
That turned out to be true,
Because after all,
Everything she says is true…
She’s my Grandma.
And I love her;
For sacrificing her retirement,
And her homey Florida condo,
Just to move back up to
New York,
So she could look after me,
Because my Dad wasn’t fit for the job,
He was too busy scoffing down any alcohol he
Could find,
In an effort to forget his past,
And my Mom was too busy working overtimes,
Because she might as well of been
A single mother.
Stand for something;
Be yourself;
Don’t follow the herd;
Find what makes your heart tick;
Because regularisperfect.
//
Things I mostly spent my money on from ages 18-22:
-Paint
-Printer paper
-Oil pastels
-Weed
-Edibles
-Various drugs
-Rent money (for other people)
-35mm film development
-Road trips with my hometown friends
-Energy drinks
-Canned vienna sausages
-Ramen
-Pop Tarts (I typically rotate from S’mores, to Cookies & Cream, and then to Strawberry Milkshake)
-Bob marley papers
-Packs of cigarettes (for other people)
-Clothes on Grailed (very pointless, most of them I don’t wear)
-Clothes from Yahtzee (my favorite designer)
-Clothes from Paynestar (I have a lot of jeans from him, and he made my favorite hoodie I have, a grey cropped hoodie with a series of phrases assorted all over the back, and it has zips that you can take off to make it sleeveless)
-Polaroid film
-Car insurance
-Snacks from 7/11 (far too many to count, most bought with dear friend Malachi Keaton)
-Gum/mints (can’t walk out the house with breath smelling like doo doo)
-Movie rentals
-Hard drives for archival purposes
-Books for research and collage purposes
-Adobe subscriptions
-DaVinci
-Streaming subscriptions
-Amusement park tickets
-Tattoo’s
-Matcha’s
-Blue Buzzballs
-Colored Post-its
-Acrylic paint markers
-A lot of hungover morning breakfasts
-Lots of Diner dinners
-Lots of curly hair conditioners and oils
-Lots of DVDs and Vinyls for decorative purposes & childhood satisfaction
-.+..lots of things I never needed, that are just sitting, and collecting dust–added baggage that is only there to weigh one down.
![]()
![]()
My head hurts
A great deal,
A lot of my mind,
I want to make it all come true,
Not really for me,
No decision I make is for me,
It’s for the vintage cars
That have been very good to me,
And have been reliable,
And always get me to where I’m supposed
To go,
On time,
Because that’s what dependable cars do.
I have frequent fears that
One day I’ll have to arrive at a car deconstruction
Site,
And mourn them…
Blank stares in my eyes,
With only black filling my Iris,
Because by then I’ll have nothing,
I won’t have my glue,
I won’t have the ability to call maintenance
Every time I need an oil change,
Or run for the seats of the vintage
Convertible
When I’m in a fret,
Or a frenzy,
Or am depressed and lost,
Or am frustrated,
Or am in desperate need of
Some advice,
Or am in the mood,
To hear the good old engines
Roar
And chat,
And catch up to their old speed, and laugh,
And smile wide,
With no worry in the world…
No thought about how their wear
Is all crumbling apart,
And their yellow gas light
Is popping up on the dash,
And their wheels are coming to a halt,
Their oil is leaking,
Mileage becoming too much
For the body and build
Of the car,
Fumes and smoke waving high fives throughout the air.
I love my vintage convertibles;
They’ve always been there for me;
Like all family should.
And you know what,
They’’ll still be there for me
Even when the time
Comes:
All the memories,
Lessons,
Fables,
Tales,
And impact they had on me,
Will never go away.
Love, your Grandson.
//
Age
At times when I’m angry,
Or having little faith,
I place myself in the shoes of
My Grandma;
I see everything she views;
I can sense her worries;
I can hear her prayers at night
That are muttered and delivered
Behind a chain of ghastly coughs that
No matter where she seeks shelter in,
Only get worse as the calendar pages flip.
//
Sacrifice
Make Grandma
Proud,
That’s all that matters.
She raised me,
She put clothes on my body,
She made sure the heat was on,
And that the electricity was always running,
And that I never went out the house
Looking like a ragamuffin.
She taught me the value of
Having a moral compass,
She taught me respect,
She taught me manners,
She taught me the importance of
Being grateful for everything,
And everyone,
Around you.
She also gave me this nose,
And this hidden sense of pride,
That unleashes any time anyone
Ever plays in my face.
She taught me what things
To prioritize in this world.
She taught me financial literacy;
Although I’m sitting at the end of another calendar year,
And my bank account is reflecting that
I did not pay much attention to her
Thoughtful advice,
That turned out to be true,
Because after all,
Everything she says is true…
She’s my Grandma.
And I love her;
For sacrificing her retirement,
And her homey Florida condo,
Just to move back up to
New York,
So she could look after me,
Because my Dad wasn’t fit for the job,
He was too busy scoffing down any alcohol he
Could find,
In an effort to forget his past,
And my Mom was too busy working overtimes,
Because she might as well of been
A single mother.
Stand for something;
Be yourself;
Don’t follow the herd;
Find what makes your heart tick;
Because regularisperfect.
//
Things I mostly spent my money on from ages 18-22:
-Paint
-Printer paper
-Oil pastels
-Weed
-Edibles
-Various drugs
-Rent money (for other people)
-35mm film development
-Road trips with my hometown friends
-Energy drinks
-Canned vienna sausages
-Ramen
-Pop Tarts (I typically rotate from S’mores, to Cookies & Cream, and then to Strawberry Milkshake)
-Bob marley papers
-Packs of cigarettes (for other people)
-Clothes on Grailed (very pointless, most of them I don’t wear)
-Clothes from Yahtzee (my favorite designer)
-Clothes from Paynestar (I have a lot of jeans from him, and he made my favorite hoodie I have, a grey cropped hoodie with a series of phrases assorted all over the back, and it has zips that you can take off to make it sleeveless)
-Polaroid film
-Car insurance
-Snacks from 7/11 (far too many to count, most bought with dear friend Malachi Keaton)
-Gum/mints (can’t walk out the house with breath smelling like doo doo)
-Movie rentals
-Hard drives for archival purposes
-Books for research and collage purposes
-Adobe subscriptions
-DaVinci
-Streaming subscriptions
-Amusement park tickets
-Tattoo’s
-Matcha’s
-Blue Buzzballs
-Colored Post-its
-Acrylic paint markers
-A lot of hungover morning breakfasts
-Lots of Diner dinners
-Lots of curly hair conditioners and oils
-Lots of DVDs and Vinyls for decorative purposes & childhood satisfaction
-.+..lots of things I never needed, that are just sitting, and collecting dust–added baggage that is only there to weigh one down.
Grandpa always said
Most people
Talk
Much more than they do,
And that utterly
Depresses me,
Because what’s the point
Of saying things that
You don’t bring to fruition?
The only thing a man has,
Is his word.
//
Dirty Cups
Some food for thought:
I can’t name one great
Artist who was
So concerned with their image,
And obsessed with how
They presented themselves.
The ones who were great,
At least to me,
Were unabashedly themselves,
Helped others regardless of
Who was in their ear,
Telling them not to.
//
February 16th - 1:41 AM
Sleep becomes irregular
Days intertwine
Time loses its meaning
Getting up feels like a chore
No feeling exists within me
I become a hollow shell
Full of nothing
No man
Woman
Dog
Or Koala bear
Needs this much sleep
I lay and wallow in a sea of thoughts
None good
Or healthy
I wish for it to end
I blink and it’s a new day
A re-run
Everything is the same
Just a mere
Different font on things
//
I have a lot of love to give you, World.
//
Do whats best for your family, then you. Not the other way around. Self sacrifice.
//
Be open; be expressive; be vulnerable; that’s what regularisperfect is about.
//
What is the justification? What do you stand for?
//
Everything successful; was planned and imagined.
//
The beginning of a lot of decisions begins with: What interests me?
//
Honesty is the best policy.
//
Think about why a person is saying what they’re saying. What is their intention? What is the context?
//
telling stories isn't corny...you know what's corny? only doing something to be cool. f**k you.
//
Every decision opens a new reality.
//
I like to solve mysteries and problems.
//
People don’t always turn out into who you wish they were.
//
How you think, becomes your reality.
//
Nothing is ever as serious as you think. Worry more so about being able to sleep at night, in a bed, for an extended period of time. And if you can eat. That’s important.
//
I want to be a tree; a marijuana tree. A marijuana and caffeine tree.
//
My grandma and ancestors praying for me; you won’t be able to stop this. Karma will be paid.
//
Passion and hard work will always triumph the devil.
//
Everything is about the acceptance of change
//
What is this all for? Everything is a test; every decision is for one’s overarching purpose in life — just what ever applies to their dream / makes progress towards that. Work on what you dreamt of as a kid a little bit each day. The days will add up.
//
The past and the future are intertwined.
//
Stories are why I’m alive.
//
To motivate; everything has to be believable; everything has to sell. It’s all in the pudding.
//
nappyhead
//
Connect all of your passions together. Dream; and it shall come truReligion.
//
Everything is us interpreting reality as we know it; so I’m pretty easygoing for that sake.
//
Oh well, play the cards that I’m given
//
When the spotlight is on; you’ve got to run. But remember, son, don’t lose what got you here in the first place: that heart.
//
I have two ears; and an ear. That’s why I don’t talk much; I prefer to listen and observe.
//
Be careful who you open up to; not everyone should be privy to your business.
//
***
For so long
I was obsessed with
The thought of death
Always being worried
And flustered
Over all the ways
I could pass away:
Accidentally dropping down
A flight of stairs
With the fall leaving
My head cracked open
With blood seeping out from the center
Of my soft
Lamb-like
Curls
That that
One girl said
Years ago
Crashing while driving
Or
Getting stuck in a fender bender
On a highway
Like Ernie
Dan
Sean
Malachi
And I were in 3 years ago
Getting the courage
To take a blade
And get to cutting
Some ingredients
Like my Grandma
And Mom
And women for centuries
Have done for men
Who were never deserving of
Such treatment
Since the beginning of time
Jumping in front of a
Moving LIRR
Train that is passing through
At full speed
Throwing myself
Into a bus
Jumping off of
A tall building with
Plenty of stories
Nowadays though
I truly
Utterly
Could not care
Less how I pass
It doesn’t matter
If I die in a silly manner,
Like tripping over a couple of gum balls
That are lying on the ground
And falling right to the concrete
With my head bracing the impact
I am okay with that
If I die with my throat getting
Sliced while in a
Horrific car accident
I am okay with that
If I die from premeditated murder
I am okay with that
If I die in a robbery
I am okay with that
Because after I pass
No matter what I do
Something will live on:
These stupid
Silly
Incomprehensible
Ideas
![]()
Most people
Talk
Much more than they do,
And that utterly
Depresses me,
Because what’s the point
Of saying things that
You don’t bring to fruition?
The only thing a man has,
Is his word.
//
Dirty Cups
Some food for thought:
I can’t name one great
Artist who was
So concerned with their image,
And obsessed with how
They presented themselves.
The ones who were great,
At least to me,
Were unabashedly themselves,
Helped others regardless of
Who was in their ear,
Telling them not to.
//
February 16th - 1:41 AM
Sleep becomes irregular
Days intertwine
Time loses its meaning
Getting up feels like a chore
No feeling exists within me
I become a hollow shell
Full of nothing
No man
Woman
Dog
Or Koala bear
Needs this much sleep
I lay and wallow in a sea of thoughts
None good
Or healthy
I wish for it to end
I blink and it’s a new day
A re-run
Everything is the same
Just a mere
Different font on things
//
I have a lot of love to give you, World.
//
Do whats best for your family, then you. Not the other way around. Self sacrifice.
//
Be open; be expressive; be vulnerable; that’s what regularisperfect is about.
//
What is the justification? What do you stand for?
//
Everything successful; was planned and imagined.
//
The beginning of a lot of decisions begins with: What interests me?
//
Honesty is the best policy.
//
Think about why a person is saying what they’re saying. What is their intention? What is the context?
//
telling stories isn't corny...you know what's corny? only doing something to be cool. f**k you.
//
Every decision opens a new reality.
//
I like to solve mysteries and problems.
//
People don’t always turn out into who you wish they were.
//
How you think, becomes your reality.
//
Nothing is ever as serious as you think. Worry more so about being able to sleep at night, in a bed, for an extended period of time. And if you can eat. That’s important.
//
I want to be a tree; a marijuana tree. A marijuana and caffeine tree.
//
My grandma and ancestors praying for me; you won’t be able to stop this. Karma will be paid.
//
Passion and hard work will always triumph the devil.
//
Everything is about the acceptance of change
//
What is this all for? Everything is a test; every decision is for one’s overarching purpose in life — just what ever applies to their dream / makes progress towards that. Work on what you dreamt of as a kid a little bit each day. The days will add up.
//
The past and the future are intertwined.
//
Stories are why I’m alive.
//
To motivate; everything has to be believable; everything has to sell. It’s all in the pudding.
//
nappyhead
//
Connect all of your passions together. Dream; and it shall come truReligion.
//
Everything is us interpreting reality as we know it; so I’m pretty easygoing for that sake.
//
Oh well, play the cards that I’m given
//
When the spotlight is on; you’ve got to run. But remember, son, don’t lose what got you here in the first place: that heart.
//
I have two ears; and an ear. That’s why I don’t talk much; I prefer to listen and observe.
//
Be careful who you open up to; not everyone should be privy to your business.
//
***
For so long
I was obsessed with
The thought of death
Always being worried
And flustered
Over all the ways
I could pass away:
Accidentally dropping down
A flight of stairs
With the fall leaving
My head cracked open
With blood seeping out from the center
Of my soft
Lamb-like
Curls
That that
One girl said
Years ago
Crashing while driving
Or
Getting stuck in a fender bender
On a highway
Like Ernie
Dan
Sean
Malachi
And I were in 3 years ago
Getting the courage
To take a blade
And get to cutting
Some ingredients
Like my Grandma
And Mom
And women for centuries
Have done for men
Who were never deserving of
Such treatment
Since the beginning of time
Jumping in front of a
Moving LIRR
Train that is passing through
At full speed
Throwing myself
Into a bus
Jumping off of
A tall building with
Plenty of stories
Nowadays though
I truly
Utterly
Could not care
Less how I pass
It doesn’t matter
If I die in a silly manner,
Like tripping over a couple of gum balls
That are lying on the ground
And falling right to the concrete
With my head bracing the impact
I am okay with that
If I die with my throat getting
Sliced while in a
Horrific car accident
I am okay with that
If I die from premeditated murder
I am okay with that
If I die in a robbery
I am okay with that
Because after I pass
No matter what I do
Something will live on:
These stupid
Silly
Incomprehensible
Ideas
Winter never seems to
Hit the right tempo;
It always leaves one
Cold at night…
Longing for the warmth of another,
To be held gunpoint by another’s eyes,
Have them rub both of your eyebrows,
As if they’re tucking in their nephew goodnight,
Still thinking of the recollection of
Clinging at another’s body,
As if one was grasping at straws…
Because isn’t that what it’s all about?
This silly little thing called life?
This wheel,
That is never-ending,
And continues to spiral on down,
Making us oftentimes
Feel like mere
Hamsters,
And if we were,
Would that really be so bad?
//
Hey,
I’m sorry,
But I’d prefer if we don’t do
Anything right now.
I’d like to just hug,
To be able to feel your head rest on my shoulder,
And to be able to be aware
That another soul is listening to my heart beat,
Taking into account each and every movement,
Teleporting in and out of thought loops,
Just as I do on a regular basis.
I’d like to feel safe and warm
On this cold winter night,
And to hell if that sounds incredibly
Cringe,
Or like indie movie
Fantasy drivel,
But it’s how one feels,
When I think about you.
Been depressed
For a long time;
Since about age 5
To be exact,
I remember telling my Mom
This,
Voicing concern after
The diagnosis,
As well as the
Autism diagnosis that her and
Nana decided to
Sweep under the rug,
So I wouldn’t be looked at with
Another stigma,
After all,
An additional one would be bad,
Especially since I already looked like that,
Talked like that,
And was such a mixed bag that
No one knew what I was
Or if my Mom
Was really my Mom.
That especially was
White mom’s favorite things to
Ask Doreen,
“Is he really yours,
Or did you adopt it? Oh my god!
It’s so cute!”
“It,”
That’s all things are to most
Individuals;
Human relationships that should be regarded as
Meaningful bonds, are instead looked at as
Mere
Connections…
What is this business,
What is this scene,
None of it is for me,
I don’t believe
This world is.
u kno i'm really stumped on this thing called life but i like finding new music and filming and editing things maybe i'll make something of myself someday