I see how much social media and whatnot has really...caused some great divides between people. Everyone screams progression, but we're not really progressing anywhere as a people. As a whole, as the human race, we're not going anywhere. To allow ourselves to even squabble over the silliest debates is such a futile thing. As mean cleave to old ideals that are not their own, and people feverishly search for what is unreal. Then you have men that wish to wipe the earth clean, people openly embrace eugenics and the silencing of many innocent voices. How did we come so far off from our path? We've grown to accustom pain and hatred with love and friendship.

People cling to ideals and forsake the entirety of their souls to support them, instead of simply flowing. I've grown tired of the opinions and thoughts of the pragmatic. The world has never been so divided... Never.

Been feeling...very numb.
Each thought feels ungenuine.
Each word feels like its a lie that holds no truth.
I never felt so...dead. Just dead.
I never thought I'd return to this pit again.
Its all so weird. Unexpected.
I'm so unsure as to why I feel this way. It hurts even more knowing that I can't get help for it.

It feels so good to be able to listen to music off my computer again. With good speakers. Little brother got his stitches taken out today.  Things feel weird as hell now. Weird as in...I'm not sure. You know the moment when your whole life seems to be on some burning path. Its definitely far from negative. Its like...the beauty of uncertainty. The beauty of not knowing. Something that inspires the adventurer in all of us.

TO inspire us to fuck up our credit scores by trying to recreate "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas". Like aspiring towards some form of complete absolution of everything, into a state of freedom. Not just a mindset, but watching that mindset echo into the physical. I remember a time...far from now. Very far from now, when man did not spend his entire lifetime behind a desk in hopes that he might have to work anymore.
I remember a time when a man's work was a fulfillment of himself.  And he spent the rest of his days in the town and city greeting every soul, seeing the sunlight in each person's eyes. Simpler times with close knit and tight communities that lived in log cabins rather than concrete and plaster jail cells.

I cant fucking believe I cut ALOT of my dogs hair, gave him a bath, and cleaned my man-cave today. I earned 100 dollars for all this. I cant believe I pulled it off. Youd be amazed at how much music can get you out of any bad situation.

Well...i didnt literally get money, but I feel like a million right now.

I pleaded with myself that I wouldnt do this, but here goes. Earlier this week, tuesday 2:30 AM, I was robbed at gunpoint in my home. One of the robbers shot my little brother in the face as I begged them to leave him be. This whole week I cant seem to get over the fact that I couldve taken them both on. I just dont know why I reacted in fear.

Ive noticed how strong I was at first, but became crippled in the mind over the course of the week. Each passing moment, I get flashbacks of what happened. Still see and hear their voices. I hate it. I hate those punks that got the upper hand on me.

My brother is fine, was discharged yesterday. It just really sucks how everything is just hitting me now.

Stumbled across photos of me and my dad as a child. I feel as if Ill forever be stripped away from those moments... even now, my soul is in disarray.

Fuckin weird...just...feeling a huge a huge surge. Holy...mother of love itself... music never tasted so good.

All I see is smiles while my life is littered with holes. Maybe Im really the puppetmaster pulling strings with words of truth and love for those around me.

If this is my calling, then so be it.

I thought only God does this.

I heard it being whispered to me: "It is the most difficult and painful when you're on the steepest incline".

But still I wonder where and what Im inclined to. I ask every moment if my steps, my breaths, my speech are directed in the correct formation. I do not believe the words given to me. They epitomize me too much. But i ponder of those who only hear negativity, and why i do not hear such things any longer.

A true phaseshift it seems, as Im on the other side of the saran wrap forcefield. Im almost afraid of what tomorrow holds. I may be a king, but I only wish to be the lowly servant to the masses. If I be the greatest, then let my heart succumb to the shattered voices of my countrymen, to deliver their words to the most high.

As I lay here, peering out this window to view the sunrise, all I can do is remember when the skies brought greater displays of beauty before my eyes.

I am reminded of times when hopelessness was far from the lips of my seared heart. Rest, beauty, love, they all seem like remnants of some forgotten dream. Each giving of mine vessels feels more like business transactions than the release of what moves this world.

But I feel I am the one to blame for the world's stagnation. It seemsthat my wish was granted that I bear the pain of the multitude... and yet, the pain has not mitigated. Twas but a wasted effort it seems... It seems all of my prayers have been answered...and yet, I am filled with the greatest regret. Enough to scorch my lips into a smoldering amalgamation to render myself silent for eternity.

What do we do when faced with unbearable pains and burdens? Do we trudge along like mindless corpses? It seems to beour only choice since we've
long forgotten the importance of a charitable heart, on the recieving end, as well as to giving beginning.

It seems there is none that can alleviate me from what ails me other than the heavy hand of the physician. I see all those that claim his name run with joy in their hearts, seemingly free and yet, I am one that calls out in tears, agony, and in writhing pain as these hooks dig ever so deep to the roots ln my very core. What does one do when the heavy hand ofnthe physician is kindled against you?

I have long since sacrificed sanity in search of the face of the beloved. But now, it seems that every step taken was all for naught.

I hear the hearts of men compare me to a whining babe, begging to its mother in vain for he is already filled with milk. But I am the decrepit, ancient, forgotten one whose bones crackle under the weight of the entire world. I am one who is emptied before the audience of this life, with nothing to bore before them but pain they choose not to seek. See my suffering, I beseech ye all who wish to cradle near my heart. Seek the wounds of my brokened self. There, you shall either find understanding to a broken home, or the dusty elysium trails to a void far lofted from this realm reality.