Poem 81"Hamlet's Lost Soliloquy"Poem 81
It is not the frailty of man kind I fear.
Only a fool deceives himself when he believes That strength lies in all men. For what are we more than concealing ourselves behind a veil? We act as if we were not already shadows.
Foolishly yet do we gauge our eyes And swallow our tongues to praise falsehood. "Death is worse than living," They all say, yet it is me They dare accuse of madman.
Genesis states that women were made from the rib of man, But it is God's formal way of disguising That they are brew
I just had an epiphanyThe figments of my imagination move helplessly along the cruel punishment that truth is. In that way my dreams are compassionate to my reality and ultimately the lies manufactured by my self consciousness are a replacement for the magnitude of my cowardice.I just had an epiphany
I take no heave of pride for all the things I must do and have not finished. I do too often, however, relish in my errors. As if my acts of selfishness were the re-evaluation of my soul or if karma's responsibility was to remind me of how useless I am.
Yet I refuse to be another molecule following the gradient, slowly letting the water wash my sand-like mout
poem 80You are like forging a promise on crossed fingers that make their silliest attempt of tying a knot in between two broken loops and if you could have my heart would you preserve it in your liver To rot away with your toxic?poem 80
But she needs no vodka to be cruel. Malice is a word that hardly ever stays on the edge of her tongue, because her inferiority complex is an act of domination, never confidence.
In a totalitarian state, there is no room for traitors, for traitors there are enough, to the contrary of what everyone thinks they always prevail on s
Poem 79, no ending yetDices que puedes ganar las todas con tus palabras, pero lo pierdes todo con una botella y tu silencio, que mas hay que hacer, nada mas ya que as hechado a mi corazon en un agujeroPoem 79, no ending yet
SIempre espero las apunalladas pero nunca me acostumbro a el ardor de la cuchilla, que ademas de enterrar, apporea.
Con tu egoismo despertaste a estos triste sentimientos y en tus manos a quedado nuestra amistad granizada. Pero una kanita no me quita nada y es que la ensengansa sigue cicatrizando mi piel, pero lo unico que no entiendo es....
Por que todavia me moria por ver tu sonrisa,
ExistentialismImagine you’re in a bookstore and there’s a yuppie in the line in front of you.Existentialism
The yuppie reaches the register and the register slave says: ‘Would you like a bag with that?’ And the Yuppie says: ‘Um, no, actually… yes, I probably should. No, no, wait, hang on, maybe not. No! Shit, actually, Jesus, yes.’
Then the yuppie will, to cover the embarrassingly obvious fact that he/she is an indecisive piece-of-shit, say: ‘Sorry, having an existential dilemma.’
I get rather upset at this particular brand of clean shoed, Ikea consuming, marketing graduate, wit because I’m guessing they wouldn’t actually know the
Iris
YAY
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"All true artists, whether they know it or not, create from a place of no-mind, from inner stillness."
"Don't let the sun go down below your anchor."
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Don't worry about the future. You never even get there.
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