Fate's Harbinger's Blog

[  Mood: Distorted ]
[  Currently: Listening to Radiohead - Amnesiac ]

"Out of Neverland"

neverland
the magical place
somewhere in the bowels of my imagination
chock-full of faeries and shit
the magical place
where I managed to hide for the past few years
letting my body age with reality
whilst my mind sat and refused to acknowledge time

but like any piece of imagination
reality always takes out a big bite
my mind is still reeling from the force feeding
I believe a mental heimlich maneuver is in order
to remove this offending shard
caught in my spine paralyzing me from the brain up

I was a lost boy
looking for something (no idea what)
and thinking I found direction
headed off into the woods on my own
but you can only walk so far on an island
before you reach the other side and begin to wander
in circles
and this pattern of circular thinking
oddly enough never seems to end
even though you've passed the same thought
hanging from the same damn tree
at least a hundred times
the path is so familiar it's hard to get back the fire and courage
you started off so valiantly with

now that I've ventured off into the unknown
I can see the ridiculous meanderings of these last three years
and I realize ignorance is bliss
because I found my way off the island
am no longer a boy
past the disenfranchised teens
I've settled into this ill-fitting skin of manhood
more lost than ever
at least on an island you could walk on the same circle
and happiness that once resided within is gone
replaced by a sense of the world
something akin to nausea and drowning all wrapped into one

neverland
and wonderland
and all the faeries and white rabbits
and shit
are merely a faintly remembered feeling of security
an imaginary sense of happiness
long gone.

[  Mood: Neutral ]
[  Currently: Listening to The Album Leaf - Always For You ]

depression
an old friend
returning to whisper suggestions
from behind the reflections
staring out of the mirror

scrubbing off soiled layers
revealing the bones behind the flesh
ironically white contrast to the filth contained within
white porcelain vanity
forever stained from the attempts to repaint
richest shades of red

empty whiskey bottle
silent companion to an equally empty tumbler
contents intent on filling a void
any chink in the armor patched with liquid courage
lighting a fire in the belly
mistaken for a flame in the heart
distinct edge sliding along the veins
just before the numbness takes over

blessed lack of feeling
lacking substance, meaning, reason
chemical induced quiet of the soul
comatose one way or the other
in lou of a more permanent rest.

[  Mood: Very Sad ]
[  Currently: Listening to Blue October - Come In Closer ]

I've recently found the stunning power of forgiveness. I've been granted a second chance I didn't deserve. Now its up to me not to fuck it all up again...but back to the beginning where did I go wrong? I was scared by all the questions swirling deep inside and searched for all my answers in the bottom of a bottle, in a ever-growing stack of empty cans. I kissed lips that weren't mine to kiss and shared something that only one person could ever have...my heart...and with those kisses I cheated. My life, my love, my morals & ethics, my family...all cheated by that kiss. Never realized the size of the house of cards balanced on a finger until it all comes crashing down around me. And this mess that I stand in is now the bed I've made...the place I call home. Now for repairs its like playing 52 pick-up but someone stole parts of the deck and all I hear is the joker on my shoulder laughing with malice. As it was his advice I listened to all along. Never take for granted the power of love...because in the end...thats what saved me from crucifying myself...I'll take the rain of papercuts any day.

[  Currently: Listening to Mogwai - I Know Who You Are But What Am I ]

"Conversations with God"

Well jesus christ I'm alone again.
So what did you do those three days you were dead?
Will laying down really make the pain
of crucifixion fade?
I'm not looking for any kind of miracle
please just some sign that I'm not screwed in the end.
When I come to the pearly gates
could I look you in the eye and walk on past?
As if my sins didn't really matter...

Well jesus christ I've lost my faith again.
I just couldn't bear to be a martyr for your cause.
Am I weak for screaming when the nails pierced my skin?
They always told me boys aren't suppose to cry
but these tears won't stop leaking from the hole in my side.
Mix the blood and water and wine with the intoxicating aroma of death
all I get is the taste of bile rising in my throat.
Hanging here I've become a bit of Picasso
my pieces aren't where they're supposed to be.
Am I really falling apart again?
Am I really falling down again?
I would be if I wasn't pinned to this tree...

Well jesus christ we've arrived at the end.
Where are the pearly gates, that and all the saints?
Or is heaven just a pleasant idea
so people aren't so scared to die...
But I'm still scared to die...
I'm a century old child watching this movie
the highlights of my life.
I know I should be asking questions with lofty answers
but the only thought coming to mind
why is it so perfectly contrasted in black and white?
It was never black and white...
If I had to answer for my actions
I'd say the colors in the moments clouded my judgment.
Somehow that's a sorry excuse
and you aren't asking me to answer for anything.

Jesus christ I just want to ask one last thing
before you turn out the lights and leave me here alone.
Did I make you proud of your son?
Did I make you proud?...

**First two lines from BRAND NEW: THE DEVIL AND GOD ARE RAGING INSIDE OF ME: JESUS COPYRIGHT 2006

[  Mood: Neutral ]
[  Currently: Listening to Damien Rice - 9 Crimes ]

"winters chill"

the cold air bites my lungs
reaching down my throat
wrenches out what little oxygen i thought i had left
- - gasp - -
for a moment i am caught in reflex
cupping my hands to catch the warmth
but these fingers, like the appendages they attach to
are long frozen stiff
- - cough - -
sudden movements bring blood crashing back
a flood of coppery red heat
shaken loose as i stamp my feet
as if this is some strange form of CPR to revive the feeling
- - breathe - -
the winter night has changed from a forbidding darkness
mellowing to a soft reflection of starlight off the plastic snow
first flakes of a new blanketing begin to drift earthwards
light and cool against the heat of my cheeks as i return to my former journey
slowly shaking off the feeling i've just had a brush with death.

[  Mood: Neutral ]
[  Currently: Listening to Breaking Benjamin; Album: Phobia ]

in the space between thoughts exists
a silence
beyond the neurons and physical fires
penetrating the soul with a sense of peace
a piece of solitude
befriended by the companionship of a void
met by an open armed welcome
allowing a microsecond vacation from reality
revel in the in-existence of everything
but the cold stone seat of the curb
overrides the momentary taste of euphoria with the world
overflowing voices and thoughts and busy air
reverberating the drums in my skull
driving me back to seeking something
an evanescent brush with a place of mind
can only be found
in the cavities and caverns containing my contemplations.

dry rasping echos from the lecture hall
tuned in time to a listless heartbeat
neat instantaneous equations solved for the here and now
blackboard canvas suffocated by dust and the sheer weight
of bone-white attempts at anything resembling coherent thoughts
nonsense brimming over
summed up to equal a life's work wasted on a giant scribble

instead of the requisite
white,
sterile,
marks of genius
ive sculpted my thoughts across the slate in voluptuously bloody red
taken the physical path in analyzing life's grand formula
carving my masterpiece fingernail by fingernail
tapping my foot to the catchy beat of incessant scraping
a constant hammer prying from my ears into the depths of my skull
the marks, noise, compuslion towards greatness
intelligent psychosis

realizing the meaning of life is astonishing
all the skull-caving brain racking for a single idea
meant nothing,
found nothing,
discovered nothing,
taking a step back
a seat to enjoy the scene before me
another
mindlessly scrabbling towards a desperate answer
that cannot be theorized or deduced within the brain
life must flow
must be experienced
there is no greater purpose
than to simply live...

innocent eyes watch as concrete balloons sail by
reminding the heart of lighter times
when the price of smiling was a simple joke
now the canopy burns
falling round the arsonist ringmaster

lincoln log treehouse
hurricane proof sanctuaries strong enough to withstand
an angry mother's galeforce dirge
in the midst of this static snow
sounds of laughter drowned by a obnoxiously vehement television set
while the children dance to an dischordant tune
the dry wheeze of happiness dying

invasion of the last safe places
a marching army of politically correct purple dinosaurs
subduing the curious, the potentially genius
with a pill and a plastic smile
pied piper hiding a violent agenda
waltzing away
luring our brightest minds
our last naively intelligent souls
to record the laws in finger paint
blurring
the unspoken line between right and wrong

and the children dance in time
to a tune honoring the death of happiness
the last few innocent watch as concrete balloons reign from above
throwing their childish hopes
under a baleful gloom.