When i was younger i wanted to be like any other guy only i didnt have the some thing between my thighs.
When i was told girls didnt like bugs and shouldnt play in the dirt that was the day i put on my very first skirt.
When i was toldgirls must always look hot, i looked down and realised i was not so i ran home and tried all my mothers make up.
When i was told i looked like a clown with my face caked on i ran home and cried myself to nothing because i was to embarrased to show my bare self.
When i was told to give up id never be good enough i left and never looked back.
Im too good to be put down by someone who never should have mattered, that is why everyday i feel flattered when i walk out my front door knowing im better than i ever was before.

Your the way you are and thats the most beautiful thing you can ask for!

-Been

The primal cause,
A distinguishable passion.

Irrevocable truth unabided by
Beliefs expressed in dimensionality.

The fire with me burns,
It churns and rises.

Power self-contained
Is glory in it's own fate.

I enter the lair of truth
And seek no counsel.

Therefore I revel,
Proceeding with conviction
Expressing imagination
My minds eye proclamation.

My self-contained destiny is expressed in every moment eternally.
I bask in all pervading, pre-conceptual valley of truth.

My days never end,
Seldom do I ever see the night.

Except when I let the darkness of my own soul
Consume my thoughts on the walk through the
Treacherous doubt of uncertainty.

My will is my own.

Power is hoarded.
Waiting to be expressed and impressed into the
Atomic structure of a construct, that must of
Been so elusive to deny me even a momentary pleasure
To express joy in the moment.

I aim to capture all positivity
Into the scope of intent.
Purified by the passion
That fuels my direction
To seek out experiences that are meaningful to me.

I miss the days when I would find poetry resting peacefully on the kitchen counter, hiding skillfully between the cracks of the tile bathroom floor. Back then, it shuttled out from the tips of my fingers like golden lightning that kept my heart pulsing, my eyelids propped open wide with all of the secrets I had been struck with.  

There were nights I found it in the soft flutter of his eyelashes against my cheek, the glowing warmth of his hand that held mine like something he would never grow tired of carrying, even though that was where I kept all of the words that had been stolen from my lips since the first moment I knew that I loved him.

But back then, they were everywhere-- the words-- nestling in high nests perched upon branches I was always tall enough to reach, settling in the pockets of worn denim overalls and the creases of watercolor smiles I had secretly painted on strangers with no names to match the dim light of their faces.

There was a time. There is a time.

Now, I sit at my desk with trembling hands and words stuck jumbled and uncharted in the aftermath of the past. And poetry no longer spills from the cracks of the baby pink teapot, no longer falls with every tear that still remembers how to emulate the rain.

But it is here when I am with him, his arms becoming the paper I have spilled my soul onto back before I memorized the melody of his heartbeat. In the sound of our voices filling all of the vacant spaces that used to haunt my bones, in the hushed music that plays every time my name drips like honey from the edges of his laughter.

There is a time. It is now. Poetry was once written, now it is living.

Hello. I am words.
I have taken your voice, stolen your swords
But still you read onwards
Though be it for naught?
For I am just words. But you truly
Are not.

(A reply to Stanford **** victim's letter)

I have never been sure of anything in my life until I came across your letter. It was one of those moments where I needed to find a safety net, as I am completely falling apart and my self-esteem, sinking hard like the Titanic. For the longest time I have been a warrior - fighting self-made battles that I ironically lose everytime.

It wasn't easy, good God, it never was, at the slightest- easy. Trapped inside a hollow body with nothing but hate did it for me. I recall countless times of drowning myself with worry that I can never be good enough. Not good enough, pretty enough, intelligent enough, worthy enough. Enough. I was never equal to that word. I wish I was almost enough, but reality bites and it bites hard so I'm always left with nasty and painful bite marks. My tears and sobs are now lullabies to my ears as it helps me put myself to sleep. It wasn't always like this though, I've had my share of sunshine but in the end, and like most things, my happiness reaches its finish line way quicker that I would've wanted.

My life is a daily routine I no longer want to be a part of. Even if I no longer want this - something is telling me I shouldn't quit. For ****'s sake, I'm a warrior, it would be a disgrace to quit. So I held on. For how long? I don't remember, but I did and I still am. The day I read your letter started out like most days - empty. I thought it was going to be another one of those **** related articles, but I was wrong. And I've never been so happy that I was wrong. Each word you wrote were like swords cutting through the chains I made for myself. It was freeing to read about something so tragic yet peaceful at the same time. It was as if your letter was a *** of gold found at hell. It was the rose among all the thorns. A treat amidst all the nasty. As I finished reading I realized something: you are right, I am a boat. A boat you guided with your light. Thank you for shining. It doesn't matter how bright your light was as long as it shone, and found me. In turn, I will one day be a lighthouse, guiding boats toward a safer shore.

Stop
Take a moment and think
Look
At all of the beautiful scenes
Listen
To all of the wonderful sounds
Relax
Take a deep breath and let it all in
Enjoy
Life is just an adventure, let it begin

I'm a madman,I believe so now that I've paid close attention to my seizing the randomness instead of "carpe diem" because let's face it,an honest cliché that sounds much better  is "every dog has it's day". Now that I think about it,these "motivational" quotes sort of seem contrary when you pile them up and question them or perhaps they're just cliché words pieced together to provide comfort in any situation you're in you'd find the perfect "quote" for comfort. But that's unlike me because I don't like a lot of stuff (especially over saturated stuff) but I'm likeable though (I think) I'm actually a funny guy too. Sometimes I'd like to label myself as a regular,normal,average guy. Then at times I'd like to think I'm beyond the mundane. Because although to another person may conclude his observation of me as me being some other guy. I'd like to think I was born for greatness and I start to attach words such as "unique,different,creative" to further describe myself. In all honesty I don't know if that's cool or stupid and I really don't care by the way. Because there's a billion and something people on planet earth,with all different perspectives,perceptions,different tastes,different preferences and to cater to all these differences and receive satisfaction from all these individuals (or even majority) is impossible. So it's best one believes and themselves and trust his word. So yes,I've decided it's cool to believe you're born for greatness and believe that you're different. Although you'd walk the same path as many does not give anyone a right to label you as ordinary because uniqueness sources from the genetic make up(no one has the same genetic makeup as you). So yes of course I see beauty in one being able to acknowledge their differences and perceive them as being unique and beautiful too.

To further explain why I called myself a madman. I don't really take the usual route as most people,following procedures (by that I mean this,what you're reading right now. I didn't plan it. I just started typing out words and now I'm typing this because I love words,it's because of what words can do and how simple words like these pierced together can change someone's life. But I know  as I mentioned our views differ because we're different so that's inevitable. So whoever sides with me God bless you,if you don't side with me..may God bless you too(I guess)...(hahaha see I told you I'm actually funny)

Anyways I called myself a "madman" and that's crazy. Labels are crazy. Words are cool. I mean,it's crazy how a statement like that can evoke different thoughts on different people some will be like "oh god shut up" some will be like "he's probably boring" "he's crazy Haha" "cool *******" all that is beautiful(I'm sarcastic when I like sometimes). People are always going to label you as being whatever type of person they feel like labeling you. But all that really doesn't matter when you turn a blind eye and place importance on what you really stand for and who you really are.

If you've read up to this far. Thank you so much. Because I really wrote this all because of randomness and when I reached this point I hope I touched someone's life. You only got one life. Make the most of it. Feel beautiful. Believe you're the greatest person to ever live.