Words Needing Music

A thousand suns in confrontation A terrified soul mirrored A troubled girl, thought of  in all realities  The skin's geography betrays  failure and victory  The scream can indeed fill the universe  but you  The romantic's value is dying and dead  Learning again is easier than learning  Infinite portrayed expression Infinite feeling source Love versus need Need versus love Wishing since toil yields not what I want Want, that is, You Want, that is, Me

Words are inadequate a medium to explore.  The sentence stops abruptly. To explore what? But like I wrote. Words are inadequate. What I feel? What I think? I just know now. Yesterday and tomorrow are blanketed in a frenzy of anxiety and war.  So..  Now... A pebble drops in a calm crystal mirror lake. It forms lengthy yet calm ripples. Weirdly, the sound is deafening. Nuclear explosions and chaotic screams. It doesn't match the visage. Where the pebble floats is now, and what the pebble is, is me. Again I'm looking at the waves. What happened and what will, occupy me instead of my place on the lake. And what of the sound? I'm tired. I'm so tired. I didn't know. I thought that's how it was supposed to be. But it turns out I was traumatized. And I didn't find support. Just ridicule and loath. And then you came. And I never trusted your love. And then you hurt me as well. And now? Now I'm just trying to soothe the constant terror. Trying to feel ok with not ...

7 am This day started But I've not yet finished yesterday Before I do, I stumbled upon what you want to show the world It is beautifully sad It is desperately hopeful It is ache in colour It is depth, skin deep I'm in love with you Before I was an idea, it was you I wanted Because you are humanity's attempt to escape from the jungle Yet you are an animal Smoking your cigarette Looking down Always down... Pondering in solitude among solitudes  Drinking and screaming and fucking and singing and crying so loud it turns to laughter Damn, I want to be inside you and look around without touching  Humbly observe in awe the miracle you are  Because you are not human Yet most human anyone ever was You are art You are the whole universe's beauty contained inside a tiny little cute pot  called girl And you're bursting at the seams You'll explode if you don't express this madness that is existence  This awesome prank of God  So you're taking pictures like galaxies...

Innocent right?  Look at them. Hanging with rubber bands from my building's front door. Hurriedly thrown by a uni student trying to earn some cash. On top of, or partially under, or next to my doormat. Some sneaky enough to actually slide under my door and into my apartment's foyer. Under my car's windshield wipers. On the seat of my motorcycle. Why pay them more than a moment's notice? Because they make me boil. They make the monster stir. The disrupt it's slumber. They force me to fight. And I have things to do. I have things to not think about. I wish I was addicted to something else. Such a sad thing to say. But I found quiet in food. And then I found despair there. And I've been fighting with it for so long it seems forever.  And today, even after working out, even after throwing a basket ball around, I saw them and I remembered the storm is still going on. It feels forever ago I won and it feels forever ago I lost. And there they are. Tempting me to forget...

Musically Enchanting, Lovingly Inconsistent, Naturally Abstract Now, only capitals 

Το bullying είναι κακό πράγμα.  Μπορώ ίσως να συγχωρέσω εκείνη την τρίτη δημοτικού, αγόρια και κορίτσια, που αντί να με δεχτεί σαν καινούριο μαθητή, με πέταξε στο τσιμέντο και με έδειρε ομαδικά. Δεν θα τους συγχωρέσω όμως ποτέ την πράξη. Γιατί με τρομοκρατεί από τότε. Και μου έμαθε ένα σωρό ακλόνητα ψέματα. Και δε με αφήνει να μεγαλώσω. Δε με αφήνει να ονειρευτώ και να ζήσω χωρίς τόσο φόβο. Γιατί με οδήγησε στον εθισμό. Στη μανιακή εύρεση καταφυγίου. Απομόνωσης. Στην έλλειψη πίστης στον εαυτό μου. Με οδήγησε στο να μην πιστεύω βαθιά ποτέ ότι κάποιος με αγαπά. Να μη χαλαρώνω με την αγάπη. Να μην την εμπιστεύομαι. Ελπίζω πως μπορώ ακόμα να διδάξω στην ψυχή μου πράγματα. Ελπίζω ότι ο λόγος που στα 31 μου νιώθω μικρό παιδί είναι γιατί περιμένω να έρθει κάποιος, να με σηκώσει από το τσιμέντο, και να μου πει ότι δεν θα με κλωτσήσουν όλοι. Δεν χρειάζεται να φοβάμαι για πάντα. Γιατί εγώ τραγουδούσα. Ήμουν γελαστός. Δεν ήμουν ντροπαλό παιδί. Γιατί ζω τρομοκρατημένος τόσο πολύ? Γιατί καταφεύ...

I'm sunk in introspection again as per usual. But this time it feels different. I'm rediscovering myself. I just take these moments of flying for what they are. Ephemeral clouds that will dissolve before you can give them that second glace of appreciation. Hoping the same will someday apply to moments of blackness. Those four numbers, my phone is always showing me, just keep on counting. And I'm going from one fuck it to the next. Hoping one day will find me happy. Cause it was forever ago I remember being so. 16:00 In one hour I'll go and teach someone the love for music. That's one hour of looking far away in front of me. Feeling small and helpless in front of two legged regret cursing at me. Reminding me how much I've hurt me. How much I've hurt you. And taught you hate and loath. Cause that's what I ever knew. Pain and addiction. Sadness and addiction. Self torture and addiction. Terror and addiction. Love and addiction. Instead of listening to bruti...