Don't read this

I hardly remember when I opened my eyes, letting the light pour over everything.  I remember it being so bright. Although time has passed and the color burnt on.  Standing it's ground against the sun.  Yet the years have faded the shades, the brights are not as bright, the colors not as vibrant.  I try to close my eyes and look at them anew, but they seem too familiar of a passing light.  The showings of a dying star I've stared at too long. I long for new colors, new, radiating, bright as the sun shining on new light.  You brought them all, colors I never thought I would see, colors I never thought would shine.  You made my life so vibrant.  Only you were able to bring the colors to my muted world.  I wanted to take it all in, take in every color into my sensitive nerves. I stared at the colors, so bright my corneas singed.  Maybe this wasn't a good idea.  Maybe I need to go back into the dark.

I want to inhale until my lungs are out of breath. I want to fight until my hands fall off. I want to run until my legs go limp. I want to burn my muscles until they've gone cold. I want to taste until my tongue goes numb. I want to feel until I've fringed all my nerves. I want to yell until I've lost my voice. I want to listen until the world has gone mute. I want to see until my eyes go blind. I want to love until my heart bleeds. I'm just afraid I don't have enough blood to keep me going.

I thought today, as I tried to do some good in the world, a little kindness to balance out the selfishness I perceived. Am I really good? Do I look at this world as a negative place that I feel compelled to do good to balance out what I think is the evil actions that the world puts out? What of the people that I see as uncaring, walking around so deserving of all, demanding their fair share. Do they not look at the world as a positive place where everyone gets their share, just waiting for their time for it to come? Do I value that as poor judgment, the wrong way to live, to view this world as a gift for all that just hasn't reached the time to open it. When I look at this package as another burden that will weigh you down so I do what I can to help others carry it. Maybe I am the bad person, maybe I should be positive and think that everything is going to end up well. Await my gift that is coming. I don't know, I don't know what to think anymore... or maybe I shoul...

Is it not my views that I create the world around me?  I define what is right and wrong, I define what is bad and good.  I perceive that the world is full of good people but when they are bad, they prove against what I believe, and to my world which I have claimed to be a God, they have become the enemy and must be removed, destroyed, banished from my world. So we move, all of us Gods to our own world, defining that which we perceive.  Creating and labeling.   Yet in the end, this world that I have made will be nothing, I will only be relived by those that have defined me in their own world.  So what do I care of mine when all I will be remembered for will be in your world?  Should I cease to want, to create my world.  Should I let go of my reasons and definitions and abide by the color of good in your world?  Will this make me a better person, to not need my own resolution but to live in the definition of yours?

Is this world dark? Are we all struggling to walk in the shadows of this world? Do we bring the light to see in front of us from the sun in our eyes? Do we cast the light of our eyes onto others? Our world onto theirs? I've got dirt stuck to the blood on my skin from the dealings of this life. I light my way, keeping my eyes open, showing the sun. Like a shark that needs to move, it's not the stillness that will end him but the pounding movement of the dark blue world that will pound it to it's end. I burn inside to keep the sun glowing, to keep me moving, to keep shining on.

I don't want to make a scene, but sometimes I want to yell. I don't want to make an entrance, but sometimes I want to be noticed. I don't want to end with a giant finally, but sometimes I want to be missed. I don't want to put on an act, but sometimes I want to be adored. I don't want to take the spotlight, but sometimes I want to be noticed. I don't want to act like a character, buy sometimes I want to be remembered. I don't want the curtain to fall and to be forgotten but I have been taught to never upstage the show.  It's the act that is important, I have just been casted to maintain the theme.

I wonder if I am only defined by my actions or the the perceptions of others.  Does what I do matter unless it is wanted, unless it is appreciated, unless it is known?  Can I be humble and kind to no avail if there is no reception to the act?  Am I doing it for myself or for those that need it, or I perceive that they can use the lending hand?  So what does that make me? So where do I stand in your eyes?  Am I just a niche, a fad, a moment that will fade away?  How do I describe myself when I speak to others? Do I get to make that decision or is it the world around me? I can't help but feel that I am defined by the actions of others, the feelings passed though actions.  And all I see are break lights all around.  The hesitation that something horrible, a potential accident is up ahead.  You make every effort to slow down and make sure that you break to a safe distance.  To protect and cause traffic to all those behind you.  Beca...

I stand in front of a dead end Nowhere to turn This is not the life I wanted Not the life I thought I had led I stand trapped in front of a wall This is where I was led I tried the best I could I did what I could with what I had Scraping at the walls This was not my fault This is how I am I did everything right, as I was told It was not supposed to be like this I am trapped It's so cold I can't see any light seeping in I only hope as I wait, as I scrape Bloody knuckles pound the walls Nails bleeding as they turn to claws Fatigued and hopeless Anxiety for as long as I've known I grip my fists as I punch my way through I can't change the way I am I'll just stay here I've come to accept there is no way out This is my penance, my life, what was carved out for me I grip my fists, holding on to what I have forgotten This is all I have now No light in front of me I don't even know how to change...

Look up at the clouds, that's where your dreams live.  Your a little child but you can live up to your dreams. You work hard, you strive, you dedicate, you practice.  You fail and then you try again.  You are determined.  You lay down in the sunshine, looking up at the clouds, at your dreams.  You spend your time imagining how great it will all be.  You will live up there someday, you and your dreams together. You succeed a little, you try a little more.  You fail and learn, keeping your dreams your drive.  You lay in the field at night with the grass at your back.  Looking up to the sky with the stars at night.  All the dreams have their lights on, leading you in, letting you know that they are waiting up for you. You sacrifice, you fight, you give it your life and then that moment opens.  Everything you wanted whispers to you in a moment.  You have been listening all your life.  You take it by the hand and it lifts...

Protected like a fragile breath, I keep safe as not to hurt.  Then I was scratched and everyone took care of me.  They bandaged it up and cleaned it well.  It hurt... and I remembered. I healed and again protected myself, remembering only the pain.  Then I was scratched again, and no one to bandage it, no one to keep me from looking at the blood.  I remember the pain but I was used to it, I could feel it, I was drawn to it.  I wanted to see why it hurt, why it made me cry, so I stuck my finger in.  Excruciating waves quickly bloomed from my heart to my whole body and just as quick I pulled my finger out and the relief was divine. I shuttered to imagine the pain, yet I grit my teeth and stuck my finger further in. The next day I walked aimlessly with a scar on my tear.  Harden to protect me, keep the hurtful things out.  I could touch it but I felt nothing.  I knew it was for the better.  I knew that it was the way it was me...

For a moment you forget what it was like the first time, the first time someone took you to a place because you were old enough, they wanted to get you your first.  The first time you took a sip, a taste of it.  You forget how it was so strong you almost didn't want it.  How could anyone endure this potent mixture?  Then a second sip, and the next thing you know, you had the time of your life.... for what you can remember. Then it begins, and you look for it.  You remember how fun it is, and it's just a night of fun.  Nothing to be concerned with, you are just looking for a good time.  Some of the best times, some of the great moments are all with it.  You wonder why everyone else doesn't, but that doesn't matter.  You're with other people who share the same sentiment and you don't care.  It's fun and it make you feel good and that's all that matters. You go out for the sole purpose to be exposed to it. People caution you that y...

The world revolves, it doesn't keep me in mind. It just keeps moving at it's own pace. I try to keep up, and sometime it spins in my direction, and sometimes it doesn't.  It just spins because it wants to. I try to remember that. I sometimes can only see the world as far as my mind will reach, and it makes me thing the world spins for me. Sometimes I think that the world spins with reckless abandonment, without thinking of all the chaos that it creates. Although perhaps that is just the reach of my sight, that maybe it spins to keep the world a better place, and what I see as misfortune, what I see as destruction, is actually the world trying to keep everything in place. I just have to remember that the world will keep spinning and hope that sometimes it spins with me.

What am I holding onto that is slowing killing me? What do I reach out to so that I feel alive yet at the same time is the reason I'll meet my demise? Am I putting my life into something that will end me? What happens to me when it is gone, will I cease as well? Drugs, sports, kids, religion, my favorite tv show, heritage, nationalism, alcohol, status, my job, my makeup, where does it end and I begin? Am I only a reflection of my addiction? Is my addiction just a reflection of me?

I was told that you need to fill yourself with purpose.  Find the life that you were meant to live.  I filled my life with beliefs and rules to give my life meaning.  I stood for what I believed in and became filled with anger when other people's purpose was opposed to mine.  We stood strong on our beliefs against each other, creating purpose. I filled myself with my own needs, scared that anyone, anything could take them away.  I filled myself with apprehension, with doubt of the needs of others.  That those needs might take away my own.  I filled myself with what I though I should. I filled myself with so much I couldn't keep it all in.  I filled myself with too much, it violently lashed out.  So much kept within, under pressure of all the emotion.  I filled my soul with what I only knew. Now I sit a mess, spilled everywhere, wondering to fill again with what they say to fill yourself, to give yourself purpose.  Give this li...

Where does tradition end and stereotypes begin? Is it only when it is a negative trait? I don't want people to think that I am a stuffy business man so should I get tattoos?  Do I get a mohawk to show people I am not a part of the of the norm.  Although punk is so dirty and I like to look good, how about mod?  I want to be cool, but not look like I try, yet try to be mod?  Too much thinking, how about I just be gangster, wear the appropriate colors and listen to rap.  Too much violence, plus all the people that I associate with hip hop, they probably won't accept me.  If I try to be like them I would just be a white wannabe, but wait, I'm half mexican.  I guess I need to listen to salsa, eat mexican food, celebrate Mexican Independence day so I don't forget my heritage.  Although then what stereotype am I fitting into?  Is that the one I want?  How about I do my own thing, I can wear a kilt and sport a bagpipe.  Nope, walk around ...

Would I be your lover in your dreams? Would I be magical special enough to think of me when you sleep? Would you remember me while all those beautiful things happen in the only place they can? You could dream of blissfully bright meadows on summer mornings.  All the flowers singing your name as they cheer your presence. You could dream of majestic unicorns flying around the rainbow filled sky.  Spreading sparkling glitter on the beautiful world below. You could dream of birds wearing top hats and sharing with you a cup of tea.  They speak so highly of you and never want to leave. The best of your imagination sparked by your thoughts and soul.  Somewhere in this world you have created would you think of me? How would I be? Although maybe your dreams are not all filled with this beauty.  Perhaps you toss and turn by the rumblings in your mind.  Dark passages and dimly lit paths, shadowy figures and fear at your feet.  The dark things that wor...

I carefully slit my heart, just a small little nick on the top.  Big enough to carry a pebble.  I met the first people to see me, they cared for me as much as they could care for anyone.  I put a pebble in for them.  Then I met more, kind hearted, loved, compassionate people.  I asked for a pebble from each, and graciously they offered.  I carefully put it in, oh the pebbles. The more I met, the more I wanted.  Pebbles, little pebbles, big pebbles.  I want to take away that weight that holds you down.  I want to lift everyone on high.  I want you all to touch the stars.  I want it so bad, but the pebbles. Every person I meet, I want that little pebble to put in my heart.  Fill up my arteries and watch the blood pump around it.  Hear them shake when I jump in fear, listen to them rattle when I dance too fast.  I stretched it all I can, and I will stretch it some more.  Although my heart wears heavy, and the...

I see all the people that are famous, those guys driving the shiny cars with their hats tipped to the side, a beautiful lady at their sides.  I see all those people with those big homes, fancy yards, all that money. And I think.... Why can I be a little better, a little stronger?  What if I was a better looking, would you like me? What if I got a better education, would I have more money? A little smarter? A nicer car perhaps, maybe better fashion sense?  I thought that being a good person, being kind and respectful to people, working hard, diligent, honorable, would get you places.  I guess it's just fate.  I had no chance, just fate against me.  Or maybe I am wrong, all the things that I have been have brought me to this place.  Perhaps I did this to myself, perhaps I need to change.  Perhaps I just haven't waited long enough? Perhaps this will all pay out in the end. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.... maybe I'll just eat some cake.

If I lie to myself can I be better. Pretend I'm happy, pretend I'm great. If everyone thinks I am, doesn't it make me? Nevermind feelings, not what I think, it's my actions that count. If I lie and be happy, just act it all the time, maybe I will be.  If I can learn to lie really well, would I even know?

I look at my hands. I want to feel more. I peel away the skin to feel the stretch of my muscles. I pull at my sockets to feel the weight of my eyes. I tear out my liver to watch it filter. Yank out my stomach to hear it digest. I want to dig at my insides to get to know who I am.

I see your wonderful face.  That beautiful smile, that wakes me more than a cup of coffee. You have no idea what you do to me.  All I want to do is meet you, to get to know a wonderful person.  Just be friends with a wonderful person.  Just to be liked by a wonderful person. I just want a chance to meet you, to bump into you and help you with your books.  To open a door and get a little smile.  I slight chance to tell you how I feel.  All I need is a little bit of a chance. You walk so high, you talk so bright, I tall everyone makes you seem.  I hardly think I would be able to reach you, to be as stunning you are.  I just need a chance. I worked it all out in my mind, what I'll say, how you'll respond.  I just want to have a chance to make you smile, I promise I would try.  I could never see you frown.  I just need a chance. Once chance, I know what to say. One moment to say what I feel inside.  My hea...

I was so young, so little on my front porch.  I looked down the path and it looked like fun.  I walked, not packing a lunch, not taking a coat.  Then I walked. Walked I did, I enjoyed the flowers, the shade of the trees, the slight wind of the sky brushing the warm of the sun to tickle my skin. I walked and the hike brought more, more people to join on the path.  So bright, so warm, all of the people brought more.  The path so bright, so more narrow. I walked down the path noticing more the bushes and earth around, just off the path.  Not as bright, not as warm as the trail so beaten down with all the travelers.  So I walked, into the dark, looking for more. My eyes, so used to the light, couldn't see far and I was scraped, I was bruised.  I walked through the dark, never so cold. Then my eyes widen, and in the dark I soon could see. I walked, and found beauty in the dark, the corners most don't go.  I see the side that pe...

Are people genuinely kind or are they just trying to get in heaven? Are they really good or just selfish?  Does it even matter i f the actions are the same? If you pretended to like me, would I even know?  Would I even mind?

You hold the light that has shone me so much. You have brighten my life.  You make the world brighter, more colorful.  I thank you for being so kind for holding that light, for showing me the way, the beauty of the world.  You made sure I wasn't covered by the dark.  I thought you were kind, I thought you to be selfless, you standing there in the dark, holding the light. I grabbed your hand to join me, to share the light with me.  You kindly rejected, my perception of your kindness justified.  I reached out my hand to join yours in the beauty of the world you shone me through your light. Again you refused, your selflessness strengthen.  I reached out my hand to share these moments, to share the light. You hit my hand away, you shook the light, spinning, lighting all that you kept in the dark, showing why you hid in the dark.  You were so kind to show me the light, to keep me from the evils of the dark. To keep me away ...

I patiently wait, there's a reason right?  It'll get better, of course it will.  I wait with faith, blind faith, blind ignorance, that it will be better. The sun is just around the horizon.  I can see the light. I can see the people playing joyfully. I can see them having fun. And I wait, I patiently wait for the sun to come. Waiting, unable to lift the sun. Waiting.... the light will come.

Why am I even writing? Does any of this matter to you? To me? Just looking for a silent sounding board, a mute therapist? Am I hoping someone will find this and then have guilt when they realize they missed knowing me? What good does that do? Maybe I just want to talk about the things people don't have time to talk about between conversations about weather patterns and pictures of food.  Maybe I don't want to talk of heavy matters in turn to bring lighter times?  Maybe I just don't have the courage to say? Is it just words?

I forget that I feel. Walk the day with little to say.  Keep to yourself to not oppose anyone.  PC, that's what they want us to be.  Pretty calm, politically correct.  Quietly moving, but I feel. The emotions swirl with wide array.  Somewhere to let go, somewhere to feel.  It gets stronger, it wants  out, something to hold on to, something, anything. Quietly, we all move, building the rage inside.  Emotionally charged for a spark.  Then it comes, we feel it, sad, happy, anger, vanity, pick your poison. Find it's release, drugs, kids, religion, work, laugher, crying, friends, enemies, politics, potato chips, television, it's all there for your choosing.  Anything, just something, something to make you feel.

I can feel it, see it in the color of the sky. Wind circling like thoughts. Waves crashing on my soul. I keep my course, keep the knots tied, keep afloat the current of sanity. My blood pulses as I baton down, thunder beating to my heart. There's a storm coming. The wind crashes down, makes tears in the sails. The thing I fear the most is I don't know if I'm the fisherman, the boat, the ocean, or the storm.

We look to experience all that we can within this world.  The best experiences we can find. Yet everywhere I turn, all I am ever reminded that I am not the best to provide those. I will never be The Beatles. I will never be Leonardo Di Vinci. I will never be Abraham Lincoln. I will never be Michael Jordan. I will never be Mozart. I will never be Charles Schultz. I will never be Steve Martin. I will never be Vincent Van Gogh. I will never be your love. I will never be Steven Spielberg. I will never be J.K. Rowling. I will never be Steve Jobs. I will never be Jesus. So why try? I will never be wrong.  No, I can be wrong.  I can be wrong all the time.  I could be wrong about everything.  I can be wrong about everything I believe in, wrong about everything I do. Maybe I could be wrong?

The world is a beautiful act.  All the moving parts, and the creatures interacting.  Weather changing patterns, flowers growing within cracks of asphalt.  It lives. I only want to let people free to do the same, no judgement, no prejudices, just the ability to be free and be themselves. So I watch, like when you visit the zoo.  I try so hard to not let my beliefs interfere with their wants.  I keep quiet and let them be freely and you can see them be happy doing what they want.  To let them be what they want to be.  To let them know that it's ok.  Quietly watch, keeping to myself, I watch them interact with their environment without disturbing the scene.  Reserved, like watching animals in their natural world. Yet I feel at so many times, as I try so hard to not disturb, to not interrupt, to not paint the moment with my own judgement, to not press my own beliefs onto the scene, to let them be,  I feel sometimes that maybe I am the ...

I stand tall on my morals, my beliefs, my virtues, my soap box.  I stand here and tell you how I'm right, defining how my decisions are the conscience choices to be better. Can't they see that they are wrong?  Can't they see that they are the enemy? I stand here and define what's right, and by doing this I have define what's wrong.  I create the my enemies by standing on what I find is just, is right.  I create those that I hate, I create the opposition, I create the fight.  The ones that I want to fail, the ones that I want to be obsolete, the ones I can't stand, I create them.  I make them exist by creating their contradiction.  I become the thing that is against what they believe in, what they feel is just, what they feel is right.  I become their enemy.

Sometimes when I think of how nice things would be if there were absolutes, I think it would be nice to fall in love like you imagine.  Well I am sure each of us has our own thoughts. The shining knight to come and save you from the world that you so feel you need to be saved from. The wonderful person that will join you in all of your endeavors.  Never questioning your choices. The person that supports you, that makes you feel like you are doing things right and makes sure that you have something to eat when you come home from a hard day of work. I guess the magic of it all is finding the balance between the two.  You want to find love by taking care of someone and all you need is to find that special someone who wants to be taken care of.  You want to find that special someone that will let you sleep around with whomever you want and they want to do the same.  I am sure there is someone for everyone. So I guess this is my ideal, my perfect circle of ...

It was a cloudy day, a day like most but you walked pass me that day.  Before I could make sense of it, my lungs stopped for a moment.  They held a space, a breath, just to let me know that you would change everything. And we spoke, and laughed, and shared moments, and made moments.  We made the most of the world, took it to make it ours.  I opened my heart to you, I wanted you to be a part of me.  I'd let you in my heart, I tried to make it tidy, make it nice, make it warm to keep you comfortable. I tried so hard to keep you happy, to keep you warm, to make you smile and to make you laugh.  To let you know that it would be ok.  To give you what you wanted, make my heart yours.  Move furniture around, hang a picture on a vein, to carve out a part to make it ours. I just wanted to keep you warm, warm and comfortable. A blanket to protect you from the cold hard world.  Take shelter in my heart, I'd give it to you all if I didn't need a li...

I watched the news today about a killer in a different state.  I sympathized but I didn't care too much.  I woke up and ate my ice cream like normal. I watched the news today about that killer still on the loose.  I wasn't too interested but there was nothing much on tv.  I sat there and watched as he ran. I watched the news today and that killer was no where to be seen.  I felt bad for the people he attacked and the police that will probably get a bad rap.  I went out for a smoke to think what if it was me. I watched the news today and the killer was no where to be found.  I started to wonder what would I do if he came to my town.  I bought some locks for my upstairs windows, went downstairs to watch something funny, ate some ice cream and calmed my nerves. I watched the news today and they saw the killer crossing state lines.  He's headed towards me, at least this way.  I mean it's miles and what are the chances.  Hundreds...

I can make you eat but I can't make you be hungry. I can make you sit but I can't make you be relaxed. I can do your chores but I can't make you be peaceful. I can beat your enemies but I can't make you be satisfied. I can remove your angst but I can't make you be relieved. I can say you are beautiful but I can't make you be confident. I can say you are the best but I can't make you be strong. I can remove all consequences but I can't make you be courageous. I can show everyone you are friendly but I can't make you be outgoing. I can feed, clothe, wash, care, support, nurture, shelter, teach, help, love, die to do what you need,  but I can't make you be.

Ahh television, your wonderful amusement is just a click away.  Yet I can't help think that while I sit in my comfortable couch, basked in the warming glow of your light, how I feel like I am missing something. I miss being a kid, to be excited for what the day brought.  Now my experience has taught me that everyone is going to be kind enough today, productive enough to get by, fast enough to get things done, smart enough, bright enough, honest enough, strong enough, loving enough, mean enough, hungry enough, lie enough, beautiful enough, just enough.  Sometime I want to scream, break, push the enough past the edge to make it exciting, to make it something, to make me feel.  But alas, when you push things over the edge of enough sometimes things break, people cry, you go too far, someone gets hurt, and I have been told, warned, cautioned, educated that people, normal people, don't do that. Hi Tv, yesterday you made me mad when you showed me that police officer wa...

The ironic thing about tennis is when you don't hit the ball back your score is love.  Yet you only truly feel loved when it is reciprocated.

I love everything the world has to offer!! I love being alive!! Oh god... it's kinda hot outside, let me put the windows up and turn on the air conditioning.

What if the sky wasn't blue? We all agree it is.  That's what we're calling it, blue.  You point to it, I point to it and we call it blue.  You know what I am talking about, I know what you are talking about.  Blue. What if it's pink?  What if everything I see that's blue is really pink?  Water, the sky, crayons, cars, streaks of punk rock hair, all pink.  I have been calling it blue all my life.  Why would I think it's anything different?  "You've taken color blindness test.  You see blue." What if I am not color blind.  I can see blue, or pink, which ever it might be.  I have just called it blue, and I call pink... well pink. Maybe we should call blue/pink something else, something not a color to get it confused with another.  How about raven? Sparkle? Tackle? "Those are all words already." How about pompinado?  The sky is a beautiful shade of pompinado today. Who told me this was blue...

So I am going to give this a go... 30 days of writing.  Thought provoking stuff, well what my mind can provoke from my normal, uninteresting thoughts.  So what gets written is the rest, the points of thought that I find worth writing. Let's start with a concern of mine, something that I have been wondering about. When did I lose my unaware sense of curiosity? The part of me that touched fire because it looked beautiful? The part of me that chased a butterfly in a field because it was interesting? The part of me that stared at people with that tilted head of wide-eyed curiosity?  I miss feeling surprised, unsuspecting of the world that we take so much time to assume.  Where do I look to get it back? Amnesia? A nice conk on the head?  Or do I just learn to step blindly forward, faithfully thinking that each step will support me from falling flat on my face? Everything tells me that I need to be an educated person to aspire to be something in this world, yet ...

Time: the slowest, softest noose you'll ever feel.

I am not a hunter but I will hunt I am not a thief but I will steal I am not a lover but I will love I am not a chef but I will cook I am not a judge but I will be fair I am not a president but I will lead I am not eternal but I will survive I am not a killer but I will kill I am not absurd but I will go crazy I am not a monster but I will strike fear I am not a doctor but I will care I am not a farmer but I will supply I am not a priest but I will guide I am not a teacher but I will teach I am not an apprentice but I will learn I am not an angel but I will save I am not the devil but I will trick I am not a boxer but I will fight I am not a widow but I will cry I am not a seed but I will grow I am not a caterpillar but I will change I am not a beggar but I will take I am not a charity but I will give I am not a trickster but I will lie I am not a coward but I will fear I am not anger but I will hate I am life and...

Dear Villain, This is a letter to thank you for what you do.  I know that so many want to rid you from the world, remove any trace of the evil that you bring.  I however want to thank you for what you bring to the world.  You bring opposition to everything humanity holds just.  You want to bring all of society to its knees because of how they are, how they have treated you.  You, being different and seeing the world in a different light. I see you as someone who proves that what we think is right.  Without you there would not be a sounding board for the ideas of life that we present.  You prove that we are right, you prove that we are good.  You make us innocent, you make us just, you make us heroes. Tomorrow you will try to stop the world and destroy the comfort of how we live.  Tomorrow I will wake and stop you and tomorrow you again will make me a hero and the people will love me.  Tomorrow you will make...

Sometimes I want to explore the world but I keep getting reminded of all the scary things that are out there. Sometimes I want to call and hang out with you but I am afraid that you won't call back. Sometimes I want to get excited about the things that happen to me but I keep getting reminded that people don’t have it as well and that I shouldn’t act like a child. Sometimes I want to yell but I get reminded that we are supposed to keep quite. Sometimes I want to run but I get reminded that we are supposed to be calm and take things slow, make sure you watch your step. Sometimes I miss my friends but I keep getting reminded that they have moved on. Sometimes I wish I could do more but then I get reminded of all the things people tell me that I was supposed to do. Sometimes I want to create but then I get reminded that there are no new ideas and that we are only building from the experiences and knowledge from others. Sometimes I wan...