Electrified

Too much energy.

Too much energy to know what to do.

Too much to know how to think.

I can't think straight.

I can't straighten out my feelings.

I can't feel out my intensity.

I wish you were around.

I wish you were around to hold me.

I wish your grip were here to put me to sleep.

Please be able to handle it.

Please be able to open it.

Please be able to control it.

Strung on a live wire...

Clipped by a thread...

Balancing on a razor blade...

Let me jump.

Let me fall.

Let me cut away.

<Stop it>

<Get a grip on yourself.>

<Find some patience.>

<Cut it out.>

Fine.

You always shut me down.

<You always need shut up.>

Motionless

I miss it.

It's been a week.

I crave it.

I've been stuck laying around.

At first it was fine, relaxing even.

But now it's grueling.

At first it was boredom.

All I had to do was entertain myself.

It was only stagnation.

But now...

It's an itch.

It's the tightness in my body.

It's boiling electricity in my veins.

It has to be released.

It can be stagnant no more.

The Twilight Zone

*First stanza and each first line written before going under, the rest was done about ten minutes after waking up.

It's said to be...

Semi consciousness.

You don't remember.

Like sleeping, but not exactly.

It's actually...

Something like a nap.

You don't remember the actual surgery.

It's a bit like a nap.

The aftermath...

Fine motor skills are normal.

Major motor skills are sub par.

You might just be tipsy.

It feels like your moving in slow motion.

Really you just want to sleep some more.

Needless Nerves

Waiting.

Need to kill time. Need to calm excitement.

Sitting in front of light, watching explosions;

It works for some time.

But as the clock ticks that excitement freezes into nervous itch.

Sweaty palms and heat in my face.

What will I say after the story?

[Why do I need a story to start a conversation?]

So I distract myself with string.

I hook organization from chaos.

Gives myself something concrete to see.

But then it's time.

And it's so simple.

Words come <smooth as butter>.

Nerves fall away and leave content.

It was only in my head.

Without even trying, we are intertwining.

Matches

I saw the match.

I found the box.

I touched the match to the striker.

I chose not to strike the match.

Timing is everything.

Patience means the world.

Fear is natural.

Courage is key.

Confidence grows connection.

Where is the line?

The line between patience and fear.

When is time out?

The moment where biding time becomes wasting time.

What marks a dead end?

The realization lingering is actually stagnation.

This match, this opportunity, this crossroad:

I can touch the box.

I can strike the match into flame.

But it will take two to keep the flame alight.

Fear is an illusion.

Timing. Patience. Courage. Confidence.

Tangles

Writing. Writing. Writing.

I should be writing an essay.

Typing. Typing. Typing.

All I can do is aimless typing.

I feel the words inside my head,

But only tangles of words surface.

I know what should be said,

But only scattered thoughts fill the space.

Why can I not unravel my brain?

Why must this essay give me such pain?

Why do I need to struggle and strain?

I try to follow a linear thought.

My mind wants to jump and run around.

Skipping through topics and switching comes naturally.

Writing to another place makes for fascination.

Because I need to stretch.

Because learning requires uncomfortableness.

Because it is okay to feel some pressure.

Instrumental Beauty

So many people,

So little room,

So much eager energy.

First a calm.

It lulled everyone into a secure foundation.

The energy stabilized at a gentle rest.

Then the excitement.

It yanked us into a new sphere.

The energy snowballed into a mass.

Now anxiety.

Our excitement changed form.

The energy wanted to break away from control.

Tantalizing.

Anxiety melted into something less stressful.

The energy gave in to attempting compromise.

A transition to playfulness.

We return to a dreamy state - no darkness.

The energy is content, its cycle complete.

Their fingers did the work while their bodies became the music.

Where do their minds go?

Do they stay aware of the present?

Do they slip into another world?

Stringed keys and a metal tube,

All it took to take control.

Hazy

I am angry.

<Why?>

I feel used.

<How?>

I played into a game and I don't feel good about that.

<Explain what you mean by "game".>

The setup of the tasks is a game.

The task is trivial, harmless.

We are given clear instructions this is voluntary.

We were told participation is by choice multiple times...

So it is a game.

Only a game.

<What is the purpose of this "game"?>

Bonding.

I think it is a tradition done to the newbies.

We experience it together.

We survive it together.

<It seems like you understand there is no harm intended.>

<Also, you are aware no harm is being committed.>

<So what is your problem with it?>

This "game" is bull shit.

It is fun in the moment,

But after the fact I feel used:

We are puppets of the clan,

Our confusion is their pleasure.

I feel angry:

My mind disagrees with my spirit.

~ Stay true to your values, not to yourself.~

<Explanation?>

My values tell me this is fucked up bull shit.

My spirit wants to beat the masterminds of this "game".

So I wonder:

Do I beat the game by playing and one-upping...

or

Do I beat the game by having the courage to abandon participation.

I tend to isolate myself from group junk like this,

And sometimes that leaves me alone.

But I also am not afraid to stay me,

Even if that means going against the grain.

<You have a like-mind to talk with.>

<Wait for the discussion between your minds.>

<But always remember, take care of yourself;>

<That includes your psyche.>

Note taken.

I will follow through with it.

'21s Ablaze

The wood piles up.

The morning rain has subsided.

The moment is nearly at hand.

Hit the first floor for some East Wheelock fun;

Draw on some face paint and snap some glow sticks.

Patience struggles to control impending excitement.

Take a short walk... stop on the stairs.

Wait for the others...

Soon the mob becomes visible.

Join the throng!

Last but not least!

The excitement is too much;

Jog to enter sooner.

RUN. RUN. RUN.

The wood is quiet,

Then suddenly a spark alights...

And in the next moment a roaring blaze.

Everyone is hyper and the adrenaline is palpable.

The first few laps are solo.

Then I spot them,

And we run together.

The mob splits us apart,

So off again at my own pace.

A few times around and I find them again.

It has almost been 21 laps.

2 more to go.

The last lap:

I sprint for the heck of it.

I weave in and out of people,

Trying to stay vigilant so as not to collide.

My legs know no pain; I have unlimited energy.

It is done. I made the 21.

I continue, searching again for them.

Another long run later I find them.

They are with our other friends;

It is good to see everyone in one place.

We finished. Everyone made their twenty-one laps.

Time to hit the (hard-earned) showers.

Mockery

You are an abomination.

You took a bond and turned it into chains.

You are a disgrace.

You would be disgusted by me yet you fashion yourself plastic.

You are only a role model to me in error.

You play the victim yet never look in the mirror at the damage you leave.

You think of me so highly.

You favor me wrongly over the others.

You neglect the one of us who still has loyalty to you.

You know me not at all.

You would hate me if you knew me. 

Throw me out? Send me to conversion? 

Not sure but something bad.

I know you.

I'm not proud of you.

XD ^.^

When we met I knew you not.

When we met I only knew you by hair colors.

When we met I only saw your quietness.

Time went on and I knew you more.

I learned your life.

I learned your smarts.

I learned your family.

School kept us on our toes.

I watched you work.

I watched you study.

I watched you grow.

Life got busy.

I watched you from afar.

I kept tabs on you.

I tried to keep you in the loop of my life.

Shit happens.

I helped you out of heartbreak.

I helped you find your footing.

I helped you see there's more to live for.

You helped me grow.

You showed me a life outside my own.

You taught me a new perspective.

You showed me strength and bravery and courage.

School's a trip, and we made it.

We finished.

We continued.

We pushed ourselves.

Life's still a bitch.

School still keeps us on our toes.

I am so proud of you.

You rose up from everything playing against you.

You made hard choices.

You kept going.

Remember:

You are smart.

You are beautiful.

You deserve the best.

You make your life.

^.^

Grace

Your unicorn is that stranger,

That stranger whom you see everywhere,

See everywhere yet never connect with,

never connect with in conversation.

I have discovered many unicorns,

Unicorns whom I most often pass in the dining hall.

I have discovered it is rewarding to meet your unicorn,

Your unicorn may become a best friend...

Maybe even something more.

If you meet your unicorn, is that person now a horse?

I guess it could make sense:

Unicorns are mysterious; horses mundane.

You first know nothing of your person, until you meet,

Then the mystery of your person is gone -- merely another person.

<But all people are different>

<But all people have a mysterious side>

True.

But not everyone seems mysterious despite constant, passive interaction.

But not everyone is met in the unicorn fashion.

I wonder if my unicorn finds me mysterious,

Mysterious enough to get to know me more.

I wonder if we'll be the sort who become something more,

More than acquaintances,

More than mundane friends.

<Guess your unicorn person still holds their mysterious side>

Location

I live in a world where creativity meets insanity and genius marries stupidity.

I live in a bubble which is being stretched and tested.

I live in a maze with neither an exit nor a center.

My hallway bears facades.

My floor conceals actions.

My walls leak secrets.

My wheels spins endlessly.

My feet travel without rest.

My mind races time.

The vague becomes clear.

The clear becomes murky.

The dimness swallows the silver lining.

The lighting announces the path.

Where the path splits, one side is favored.

The road less traveled appears misunderstood.

The path well worn is perceived as distrusted.

Chance A Yes… Let Everything play out… because Yolo

<Why would you do that?>

Why not?

<You pretty much knew how it would go…>

Of course, but it was worth a shot.

I'd rather have taken the chance than do nothing and wonder.

<And you're not afraid of awkwardness?>

Nope;

I find that to be an immature line of thought.

You have to give people permission to say no

Without strings attached.

Besides, I wasn't going anywhere with the idea;

It was a one-time fun trial.

<I see your point…just be careful with people.>

<A spark can be entertaining…>

<But don't fool yourself into believing you can control it.>

Of course. Note taken.

Trade

I glanced you in the dimness of dusk.

I asked you to come without reminds,

And to bring with you trust,

So together we may lose our minds.

You ran away on sight;

I let you escape into the wild.

The consequences were not worth a fight.

But you returned so I must have been beguiled.

Together we slipped into the brush

Where spies cannot discover our hiding place.

Hidden from eyes sound was merely a hush,

And darkness soaked all space.

There we intended to remain

Where forever we traded a mind for a brain.