Direction&Purpose

You’ve got it all figured out
Shoes are polished and You’re ready to go
Goals
Goals
Goals
All so reachable
You’re capable
You can do it
It’s your motto ‘you can do it’

But…
As there always is

Is this what you want?

Distress
Fear
Pain
& anxiety

Breathe, breathe, breathe

Repeat ‘I can do this’

You begin
Because lets face it, what else is there
What else could you do

I know what you want
You want as everyone would want
To be Free
& Simple.

word up.

There are so many different ways to write. There are short stories, biographies, novels, poems, songs, diary’s, memoirs. The list goes on. Words, scribbled across page after page. Words ring throughout the world in hundreds of varieties. How does one begin to write a book when the worlds written or said everything that’s needed to be said? What can I say that will be unique? What do I have to offer? I’m a simple and complex human. I have thoughts that run with the sun and the moon. But how can my words even come close to interesting. Who am I? What is Interesting? All words seem to be tainted, tainted from past lips. Passed down and reformed to fit each individual. A thought is the closest thing I have to being simply me. Although it is influenced by its surroundings it is also unique in this. But a Thought is kept to one’s self. It can be shared, but in its most simplest from can only be in the mind of the thinker. So how do you portray yourself without the world tainting you, splashing you with its influence?

A list of extraordinary things to do when bored

• Do a repaint of the Mona Lisa
• Color yourself happy
• Create a new language
• Make a giant sized cookie
• Invent an awesome list of 20 Qs and ask them to everyone who calls
• Attempt to invent suction shoes to walk upside down
• Give yourself a new haircut
• Try to put on as many t-shirts as possible
• Attempt to find the phone number of someone famous
• Invent a miniature city out of multi-colored marshmallows
• Do a wicked air guitar solo to the next person you see
• Attempt to count backwards from a million
• Write a brilliant laugh-so hard you pee your pants knock-knock joke
• Defy gravity
• Stick a cookie on your forehead
• Build a rocket ship
• Have a water chugging contest
• Try to beat a Guinness World Record
• Attempt to do a back flip, then front flip
• Spin until your dizzy
• Learn to converse with your dog
• Clap your hands for the next person you see
• Dig a hole till you find treasure
• Build a boat out of paper count the seconds it lasts floating
• Play a prank
• Catch a scare on cam
• Count the stars
• Face paint…your entire visible body
• Learn an instrument
• Puddle jump
• Dance outrageously…in the middle of a store
• Build a robot
• Grow a mustache
• Smile till your face goes numb

words from a silent mouth

Satisfaction in our fiction minds.
Where is our release found?
In our chaotic, crazed world?
Crap TV
Dazed Minds
Static in the ears
bound to our delirous thoughts.

Happiness In A Cup.

Happiness. Happy, A feeling: simple and joyous. Easily obtained. Easily lost. Seconds to change.

Associated with good.

How are you? Good, And you? Good, thankyou.

Good: good, happy, fine.

Sweet little lies we tell you.
Good, really? In this chaos, where is good?

Good is the ocean, in its violence?
Good is the tree, which snaps in the winds might?
Good is the people, with sweet little lies?
No.

Good is the ocean, in its peace.
Good is the tree, which sits swaying its sweet leaves in its flames of color.
Good is the people, the honest ones, truthful in their love.

Happiness, a feeling.

No Name

It's been awhile...no reasons, just no inspiration lately.
Its difficult wanting, yearning to express the way I feel when I myself have no I idea how I feel. But yet there are these spurts of moments, thoughts, words jutting out as if to touch the sky and then reversing, evaporating all to quickly to even write down. So its difficult expressing me. Instead I hide, blend in with cream smudged walls in back row seats of classes. Fallen into pattern I am just a silent being with a lost mouth. And so I come here in hopes of expressing myself, my thoughts, & feelings.

Lurking.

My head it swarms with thoughts. And as I write it is my hope my head will empty. But filled it is with thoughts of you. No matter how many I spill, your still here.