WEBSITE: http://www.facebook...
LOCATION: New York City
RECORDS: 116
LATEST RECORD: 7 months ago
JOINED: January 02, 2010
LOCATION: New York City
RECORDS: 116
LATEST RECORD: 7 months ago
JOINED: January 02, 2010
The New-Age Thinker's Featured RECords
|
I am not the sum of my parts. I am not just limbs, glued together, with basic motor skills and the ability to differentiate right from wrong. I am not just a kid, or a boy, or a man, or a New Yorker, or a thug, or a poet, or a consumer, or a statistic, or an artist, or a worker, or a jock, or a writer. Nor am I Fotis. I am whichever way my heart wishes to beat. I am whichever way my mind wishes to think, I am however my eyes choose to see and my hair decides to fall on any given day; I am the actions I take out of pure anger, rage, love, or passion and the doubts I have when I have finally been calmed down. I am a microcosm of the beauty that surrounds me, the epitomized entity of all that is good in the world. Or, better yet, chooses to be good. Evil is in my blood, which is why I bleed. Labels are for products. You cannot itemize my existence. |
|
|
|
|
It was my Office. Until I took it upon myself To raise the armrests on Either side of my seat to Make it a throne. And now It is my Kingdom. |
|
|
|
|
|
iwanto SCREEEAAAAAM athetopofmylungs but I know that God doesn't want to hear that... HA!! God... What a joke. (please don't smite me) I mean, aren't contradictions the basis of our lives? We... we speak about peace, yet we try to achieve it through forceful means. We speak about saving the environment and all that shit when in reality our very existence is denting the cause. The fact of the matter is we shouldn't exist; we have overstayed our welcome OVERSTAYED OUR WELCOME and have somehow found a way to destroy everything in our paths while having the AUDACITY the pure audacity, the balls, to deny any wrongdoing. WHAT?! How can we wake up every morning I'll tell you how how? we are too scared to die. Look I'm not going to stand on this soapbox and preach to you forever because frankly I KNOW YOU AREN'T LISTENING *chuckle anyways IS ANYBODY FUCKING LISTENING TO ME (sorry God). Look at you walking by me like I'm some crazy man. Like you've never ever before in your life thought of the things I say; the only difference between you and me is that when you wake up from a miserable nights sleep, groggy and disoriented, you put on your suit and walk out the door ready to pull down your pants and bend over for society. Me? I wake up, grab myself a milk carton, find the most crowded street in the city, and I SPEAK MY WORD. I try to DENT the frame that this world has built around your mind because I AM WITH YOU. I feel the pain you try and hide, I suffer for every day that passes in which you continue to choose conformity over freedom. and yet... you still walk by. And I'm still crazy. The only solace I get is that when a gun yes a gun is pointed to my head I can smile and say I deserve to die because I have thought my life and your life and our lives through a hundred times over and I have realized that there is nothing I can do to save them from all that surrounds us. But if I were to take that gun yes the gun and point it at your face HOW MANY TEARS WOULD YOU SHED?!?! why aren't you ready to die? because of the estimate you need to get in to the client the next day? because of the cheating wife you aren't done loving or the spoiled children you aren't done protecting? because of the life you aren't done living? well answer me this: WHEN WILL YOU START LIVING IT?! You make me sick. |
|
|
|
|
|
I fell in love, once. With a broken heart… It had fallen through the cracks Of my stone-faced façade, And managed to find The bloody, fleshy companion She had chased for so long. And when her heart touched mine, I died. For my heart, fleshy and red, Gave his life to the cold, Shriveled, Broken, Still, Hard heart that captured My attention. And so my heart grew cold, As I gave everything to make Her heart new. I loved ever crack it had. I loved every break in its perfection. I longed to mend that broken heart, So as to make it mine forever. And now… Now that that heart is gone, My heart has become the cold, Broken heart That you seem to love. |
|
|
|
|
|
I heard her say... and I swallowed my heart. My mouth was dry, so the delicate skins grafted against each other. It still had a beat to it, dull though it was, as it trekked through my trachea; it was a tight fit... And it hurt, and it burned. And then, when it finally fell into my stomach, my tiny stomach, ruined from heartbreak, it broke. The dangerously acidic acid of my bowels, devoured my heart. And it stopped beating, as it was torn into infinitesimally tiny pieces. And all these little pieces morbidly converged, on the despairing, disparaging road of my small intestine. And as my heart, in all of its tiny pieces, traveled down this road, it found a haven; it found a tiny, vacant, apartment. And my heart, it went to hide from me in this haven. And it came together again; it fell in love with itself and this love melted my heart. And then it hated itself, and this love turned my heart to stone, making it whole again. And as it became whole, this haven could not contain it. And it expanded, more and more, until it finally popped. And out with my heart, came the silent residence; came the landlord. And it burned my body, it burned my body, and I cried. For my heart, even though I had cut it out and swallowed it whole, had still found a way to hurt me. |
|
|
|
|
|
Dear God, it's me, the one you lost, the boy one step behind. Dear God, it's me, freezing in frost, for it seems you have lost my mind. Dear God, I can hear, all of them, as they scream for remorse; Dear God, these voices in my head, and you alone know their discourse. Dear God, I beg you, help me bleed, from the brain instead of heart, Dear God, I would rather take your heed as a whole than as a part. Dear God, Dear God, Oh God, my Lord, what am I to do, Dear God, Dear God, Oh God, my Lord, when I cannot find you? I was told that you have been everywhere and back, so I looked in all of nature's kin, and have yet to spot your track. I know that you can hear me, Lord, I know this to be true. So when you stop ignoring me, please tell me what to do. Love, You know who. |
|
|
|
|
|
I love the smell of your hair. I love the passion with which you call my name. I love your eyes, whether they are Loving, or questioning, or patient. I love the way the wind molds to your form, and the Sun glows all around you. I love the way that God understood exactly what I wanted and found you, the perfect specimen, to stand by my side. I love the way that our souls play, like sparks, speeding, crashing into each other, giggling all the while, all when we look into each other’s eyes. I love the way that you can make me smile at inanimate objects, whether it be a computer screen or a cell phone, and I love the way I always wish I was smiling right at you instead. I love that when you’re gone, the stars refuse to shine as bright, And the Moon ceases to see beauty, As the Sun, hopeless, goes to bed early. I love the way a bird can love its freedom. I love the way a flower can love the rain. I love the way that only I can love you. |
|
|
|
|
|
Dear Love, I hate you. I have signed my resignation from your voluptuous ways. You have influenced me past repair. You have taken the expansive horizon that is characterized by my thoughts, and crudely focused it on one ray of light. You meant this ray of light to be my ray of hope; instead, it is the reason for all of my indemnities. You have destroyed a productive and potentially valuable pawn to a flawed society. You have destroyed my dreams. Thus, in me you have created a vendetta for my corpse, that now lays bloodied in your devious hands. |
|
|
|
