In the Moment

I just want to live again, to be alive,

Things are getting harder now and I can barely survive.

I'm scraping by, holding tight, falling under the waves,

Gasping for breath and screaming to be saved.

 

When happiness was a daily event,

And joy was when everyone was still blessed,

Courage can stir in someone else's heart,

I don't want to do more of this part.

 

Beaten down and disrespected, and feeling like I've failed,

Haven't you hurt as much as me? Pain's been here before,

So I write a poem, it tries to rhyme,

I realize it's as broken as me.

 

Still, in the back of my mind, as is all the time,

There is a quiet voice,

Telling me that there is hope, giving that touch of optimism,

No matter how far I fall.

 

I'll survive, don't worry about me,

I've broken chains and now I'm free.

I'm worn down and weary still,

But walls will crash down with my will.

It Won't Suck Forever

This is mostly a courtesy post for anyone who saw yesterday's posts, one of which was not in poem form ("Cold").
I'm O.K. now.  I was okay sometime around eleven or so yesterday (talked to the school psychologist).

It's just that, one friend hates me now it seems, and the person who insulted her said a racist joke that he didn't intend to be racist, and I'm just trying to explain where I'm coming from - which people understand - but even if I clarify Asperger's they're just clueless.  And really the only people who get the situation are my parents.

Because I feel like that one friend is mostly at fault.  I know that the friend who said the joke (which he was trying to compare the other friend in to a chicken, by the way), should apologize (and we will sometime after the weekened), but she didn't let me explain anything.

I got a bracelet from the psychologist that says "It won't suck forever".
Man, that's hard to believe sometimes.

Hope life's easier for ya'll.

Cold

I'm lonely.
I'm lost.
I wish I could go home.
But no matter how much I beg and cry and plead
I still have to go through the day.

Honestly...
If I'm left alone today,
I'm going to try and kill myself.

I'm so tired.

Makatza 'Ri

A strange feline-mostly creature with a bit of a draconic nature.  Wild, untameable, and entirely her own.  She's pink and purple, obviously.  Though moreso pink than other colors.

She's obviously not humanoid.  She also can't breathe fire or anything else.  Her draconic side is fairly small and mostly shows up with her wings and little back-spikies.

Look what I got drawn for her ^.^

Someone else did it, by the way.

I can't draw. xD

Yay for Furcadia.

By the way: I'm trying to clear out or finish old posts, this is the last one... and the only one that was published and shall remain that way.

So that's why it may seem a little mis-placed, in the midst of all my emotion issues.

Dying Inside

I've seen the colors splashed on the walls
Finger-paints of God
and I feel like a doll
Growing dusty and cold
Empty of life of soul of hope of faith
I'm dying inside.

I can't say it straight,
so I say it distant,
acting as though I'm fine.
With a smile, faked, like any other time,
Breaking down.

It's the music and the soul, I'm opening a Pandora's Box,
Anything can happen, it's true.
Anything can happen.  Let it be true.
I write and it's strange,
how when I was young I used it to express
and now I hide under words
fancy and plain,
adorned with hope that I'll be okay.

My shield is cracking.

I want someone to see.
Nobody sees.
I've hidden to well.

So if I'm broken tomorrow, if I finally give up,
Just let me be, I have that right,
Don't I deserve some peace?

The worst kind of narcissism is what I believe
I haven't done a freaking thing.

I'm torn up inside.

Anything I do, selfish,
is the worst act I've done.

I preach love, I pray for others to understand they matter,
and then I break, I hate, but only myself,
My love goes to the others and I don't know what to do,

When I'm clear-cut like this, no metaphors and riddles,
I'm dying inside, I'm breaking more.

I can't let anyone see.

I'm torn up inside, my shield is cracking,
I won't let you see me break.

It's sad when you wake up every day
And feel all this pain.
You'd think all the medications would help me some but
They help me some it's never enough.

I lie and I pretend because I don't know what else to do.

I'll never be fixed, I'll never be whole,
I'm finding my faith waver.
I believe in God, I know He's real,
Maybe He loved us once but He's tired now,
And he's judgmental and temperamental and I'm just done.

Can't I ever run away?
I don't ever want to be saved.

You Remember

It's pushing like darkness.  What color, what color could describe the build-up of every horror and all this fighting and forced and the fact that we've all become demons?

Demons to ourselves and others.

It is the fight within that hurts moreso than any other.

When suicide is cowardice but for the people who want that freedom more than anything else they call life cowardice.  When it is all mixed up and mushed up and nobody realizes it.

The ones you hate are the ones you become.

You carry that weight like a constant burden, as you hook up person after person on your backpack, and all day you go through walking with this hate pushing down.  And you never let it go.  Ever.

You remember.

You remember.

You remember.

This stone sinks throughout your soul like a boulder, fast and quick and heavy 'till your stained tar-black and you remember.

Heavy hands, bleeding hearts.  Hospitals and white-rooms and the scent of alcohol on someone's breath.  Motions, blurs, as memories crash down like lightning strikes, setting fire to your mind 'till its ashed and gray and thoughtless.

And you remember.

And like a monster the hate swerves up in you and grows a little bit.  It's such a small thing.

It is writing this piece, this thought.

That adds to it.  It could be any day, any action, and the hate grows and grows, just a little at a time.

It is not harmless.

You remember.

And like echoes and repetition there is something going on in your brain, destroying it and healing it in one fell swoop.  And sanity is just a question mark, an impossible thing distant to reach.  And each action you realize how stupid they are.  It doesn't matter who 'they' are.  What matters is that it is your 'they'.

You remember.

And the hate fills you up and pushes out all room for love and suddenly the object of your hate?

You can't love it anymore.

I can't love myself anymore.

You remember.

And how horrid is it to see these things and echoes but you're just one person.  And even if someone listens to you it will never spread fast enough or far enough.  But even a message you give of love, it becomes a message of hate.   You're fighting through a foggy haze and losing yourself in something.  And you can't even remember what that 'something' is, because you're too far gone.

You remember.

And tomorrow you will wake up and you will fake everything you feel because the hate numbs you, and you welcome it as you fall into a black so dark it masquerades itself as emptiness but ultimately it comes to the same result.

Please don't let me go that far.

And nobody knows if it's reversible because most people don't realize they're destroying themselves.  Let it go, let it go, let it go and save yourself from this pushing darkness, this horrid thing, this terrible thought.  As it crams you in a hole too small and pushes and pulls you until you are shaped in some sort of jagged grotesque mockery of you.  It is not you but the monster that arose in your mind, that is created.

The greatest monsters are the ones in ourselves, the ones that are formed by life experiences.  For some they draw up as nightmares.  For most, they draw up as hate.  Yes, this darkened creature that is twisted and cruel, that is - that is everything you hate.  That is now you.

You remember.

It is a matter that we must not forget.  We must not forget these terrible actions but neither must we forget to forgive, to release, a little bit at a time.  An ebb and flow that can save us if we let it, if we grab on and let it pull and peel our layers away until we realize that we can be saved.

You remember.

When you are raw and red you are real, and you are no longer hate but instead you've located your center.  The thing that made you, you when you were first born as pure as sunlight.  That is what is there, that is why it is something burning past the hate that doesn't let you fall completely.  Because it craves the light and the peace and it is pushing out of its shell.  It's there.

You're alive.  You're real.

You remember.

Something's Gone Seriously Wrong

The internet is being attacked again.

You guys all remember SOPA and PIPA, right?  The things with internet censorship?  The things people even unaffected by united with to fight against?  Yeah, those.

This time, they're being a lot more subtle.
It begins with putting sales tax on online purchases.  That's right.  Minecraft is now 7% more expensive.  That DVD you're ordering?  7% more expensive.
Or at least, it will be.  It's still in circulation.  Which means we can stop it.

I always thought the internet was untouchable.  SOPA and PIPA were easily tossed to the wayside.  The internet is the haven where outcasts can go, where best friends can be made.  A shelter for many of us, a way to pass the time for others.

SOPA and PIPA failed.  So now they're taking it slow.

It'll start with a sales tax.  By the way, small online businesses... They'll be hurt.  You people who sell stuff over the internet?  You may be screwed over.  7% is small... but it adds up.  It hurts small businesses.  The small business entrepreneurs who made up America.

Let me tell you a story.
Sometime in the 1800's, the government imposed a federal income tax.  The Supreme Court said, "No, that's unconstitutional, that shouldn't be applied."
In 1911, they overturned that decisions.  So, the government said, "Alright, you rich people.  You only have to pay a really small amount."
Then it went on.  "Okay, EVERYONE has to pay 1% of their income."
In New York, 2013, people pay anywhere from 15%-20% of their taxes as income tax.  Their tax?  An upwards of 60%.
Small, subtle things.  Nothing to cause a rising.  People ignored it.  It wasn't much.

Oh, they're adding a sales tax.  It probably won't affect you.  But that is exactly what the people in 1911 said.  "It won't affect me."

From small, something grows big.  From 13 colonies, the United States became a country.  From 13 states, it gained 50.  It is the same with the internet.

They'll start with the income tax.

They'll stop when Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr is gone...  Or at least, inaccessible to Americans.  Which if you're anything like my friends, and you live in America, you should start having panic attacks.

Mark my words, we will live to regret this.

Unless we band together.  This is the Internet, for Pete's sakes.  The place where we laugh at trolls, cry at assholes, be assholes, share our experiences, cry about real life, together.  The place where someone in the U.S. and someone in Japan can be best friends.  Where fandoms come to life.  Where cat pics and stupidity run rampant.

A fantastic escape for many of us.

But now there's an income tax being planned for online sales.  It'll kill small businesses.

It's only the start.

As an American citizen, I feel it is my duty to spread the word.  I feel it is my duty to let you know the truth.  I feel it is my duty to tell you this:

Today, income taxes are the bill.
Tomorrow, the bill will say this:

"Controversial websites may be monitored for controversial topics, with which they may or may not be flagged."

Vague.  You don't really understand it.  But let me break it down for you:

Anything the government thinks is 'controversial' (which, for example, may be this blog by a 16-year-old filled mostly with poetry) can be watched by the FBI.  If I make another post like this (with this hypothetical and very possible bill in place), the government doesn't agree with it.  Thus, it's controversial.  I'm "flagged".  The blog's shut down.  My personal details are found.  I'm monitored.  Or even it's just shut down.  Maybe my internet access is closed off.

Suddenly, someone's off.

That, my friends, is the definition of censorship.

It starts with income taxes and leads to the president having full access to drones... which he can order to shoot anyone, at any time, at any place.

It starts with sales tax and leads to censorship.

Once censorship comes into play, you need to be running like hell and fighting like you are defending the nearest possible things to your heart.

Because once there's censorship, good-bye freedom of speech.

Today it's the second amendment right.
Tomorrow, it's the first.

Spread the word.
Fight against the online sales tax.
Our internet purchases should be between the consumer and producer.