I’ve been fighting, my whole life
As I see you enjoy your time
I can’t help to wonder
Of who you truly are

You know you’ve been playing life
On easy
While the rest of us try to fight our way
To the top
You’re out here looking to the bottom
As if you’re immune to the fall
Don’t worry it won’t hurt at all
The accuser works hard
But you need to work harder
And if you’re scared then remember
At least you won’t make it past the bottom  

“These days seem so dull”
Can’t say I can relate to your problem
Wondering of what you could be
I’m out here pinching pennies
Just to make it through the mourning

Let me hate you from afar
It’s what cowards do
Wishing you could join their misery
And marinate in hate
No one understands them
For only they have the right
To rule the world

Your struggles never mattered
It’s not what they focus on
They’ll keep on tossing and turning
Wishing they could be just you
But for now just enjoy your privilege
Before the tides turn
Life wasn’t always fair for them
But life wasn’t always fair to you too

A form of art

It breaks like waves against the cranium
Again and again the syncopated beat of my heart
Is it magic? Is it a miracle?
Is there madness behind such a glowing word?
Ramblings of a madman, I'd rather me insane than comprehending extreme sanity.
What sanity is there in a world that holds no bounds?
What gods can there be when man in turn becomes his own god?
I have no answers, I am all but questions.

Urgent and bursting, it is a sweet fruit that ripens until juice trickles out,
Turgid and thick, quivering and throbbing like breath itself,
Not solid or liquid but a state inbetwixt.

Maybe this is mania, maybe this is something above what I am?
Who am I if not for my breath and my breaking?
It is the gaps that make the solid thing whole.

alarm screeches at 7:30am
until slammed against the wall and silenced
but you're then awoken by the cold-sweat panic
coupled with 8am realization
that you were supposed to head to class
ten minutes ago
and with sweatpants and slippers on
you sprint into thirty degrees
fog in the air, fog on your glasses
what a way to start the day!
philosophy *****, but you can't even sleep
hair matted and face oily
you sit there and scribble
every minute passing by slower
making you angrier
and the walk back to isolation
makes your blood boil
so you splash water to get rid of the oil
but now that you're back in a dark and cold room
it's time to hop on to your class on zoom!
you are paying thousands
thousands of dollars
THOUSANDS OF DOLLARS
to group facetime your professor
and spend half the time
experiencing wifi interruptions
and roommate disruptions
and near-screaming eruptions
but then you're done.
but not really!
you have a three-hour lab
and no time to eat before
so your meal is trail mix
and you feel weak and sick
but you have to get through
your gpa is dependent upon
mixing these chemicals correctly
so much depends
upon
a red hot
face
glazed with tear
water
beside the white
lab coats
welcome to your life!
this is what you wanted,
right?
this was your dream?
but your "dream"
has been twisted
and wrung out
of its golden magic
a watered down version
of what you expected
you knew it would be different
you thought maybe a third
would be skimmed off
but, hey, lucky you!
it's not even half full
welcome to your nightmare!
i hope you had a fun day
because now you get to slave
over hours of work
staring at a blue screen
icons melting your eyes
emails ruining your life
all you know in the late hours
is wooden chairs
and agony
so return "home"
tiptoe in the dark
because this is not your place
sharing is caring
spend the next three hours
tossing and turning
because you get to wake up
and do it all over again!
if your life has gone flat
at least you know what to expect
if you can no longer be surprised
can you be pained?
i would say i'm sorry
but you chose this
so kick yourself
put on your mask
and shut up.
this is your fault.
this is your life,
get used to it.

he wasn't in the right headspace
he wasn't in the wonted circumstance

it happened neither occasionally, but on numerous occasions

however, his surrounding be approaching and expecting his so-called tough shoulders..

..to be cried on, to be leaned on or to be the place they can dwell in for some considerable time.

his heart was made of gold, but it felt like a block of ice.

nodded his head; means acceptance.
tossed a yes; means a welcome.
painted a genuine smile; means he's all about to listen.

he was there for people, and he will always be there.

but where are the people pace their footsteps out while 911 numbers were pressed on his life's phone button?

nought. zero calls back. all dead. stone deaf.

that's how we live in, being a living buttress to people as in fact people won't ever spend their seconds to be your place to go.

aside from the bitter truth,

survive.

After midnight, she starts thinking
She is wondering whether she is really fulfilling hers mission on earth or not!
What is the core of existing!
-Love,  hate,  then leaving-
she is obsessed by different feellings !
- fear,  love,  and hate -
She can't stop thinking about everything
-She is weirdos , -
Every idea takes a place on her own mind
After midnight , that idea starts poisoning her thoughts slowly
- like the moon  affecting us-
she stresses herself  asking about the real meaning of life.
As  for her , life becomes meaningless.