Saw You

Saw you in a dream last night, saw your soul.
Saw the energy you had for me, made me bold.
Saw your eyes sparkle when I entered your sight,
Saw you standing with me in an eternal light.
Saw all your heart, saw all your strength,
Saw all the troubles you endured in great length.
Saw your need and desire for a hug,
Saw your delight when I gave you true love.

It Must Have Been a Dream...

I'm going to bottle up all my feelings here, then I'm going to leave them alone and get on with my life.

When the dream comes back and the dream comes true, I'll be ready to deal with it without tears.

I definitely miss you more than everyone else, combined. Like, everyone else probably just misses you when they’re at work, but I definitely be at home like “Where’s Nicole?” :’( I see a bottle of Pepsi, go to McDonald's, get a slice of pizza and pull off the cheese and put it on the crust (lolol it’s all food), and it all reminds me of you. I miss talking to you, I miss making you laugh, I miss your loving embrace with that last chance touch that you do as we let go, I miss your poems that secretly tell me what you want me to do to you and what you want to do to me... perhaps I miss you a little too much, and perhaps I shouldn’t have told you that, but I’m sure it was a little secret in my heart that was worth telling.

It's not like I took our time together for granted or anything. I enjoyed every waking moment of it. Whenever I had any moment of escape, any opportunity to see you, I took it. From finding excuses to go to Revolucion for 3 seconds to walking with you as you left to go home, I appreciated being around you. So it's not like your absence tearing me apart is something I didn't see coming. No, after a certain point, I was always quite afraid of it. But now? Wow... I had no idea it would rock my world this badly.

So I try calling you. And I try texting you. And I get no response either way. And I'm trying to stay in touch, but at the same time, I'm trying to not come off as a nuisance. I don't know if you're getting my calls and/or my texts or not, but I don't want you to look at your phone and be like "Why this nigga keep blowing up my phone for?"

"Bitch, 'cause I love you."

Yeah. Like, I knew that after a point, but I didn't truly know that until that day I last saw you before you went on your vacation and I was hoping that you had gotten the other job and I didn't want you to come back because this place is stressful and it was stressing you out insanely. And I asked myself (because, you know, I talk to myself), "Why do you care?"

"Bitch, 'cause I love her."

And it became painfully obvious at that point. Which is why I really wanted to get things going during my vacation. Because having not delivered a single kiss to your lips, I've fallen in love. Clearly, this was a premature fall, but I've fallen.

And I swear, whenever we finally meet up outside of work, I'm probably just going to skip the formalities, hold you close, stare into those beautiful eyes, run my hand through your hair, gently caress the side of your face, and deliver the kiss that weakens your knees and melts your heart.

I'm sure that it's best that I wait. I know that good things come to those who wait. But the lessons of the past tell me that I shouldn't wait for too long. They always say that you should tell someone how you feel about them before it's too late. And I wanna tell you. I wanna show you too. But I don't know if it's you, if it's me, or if it's simply a series of unfortunate events, but I'm gonna tell you soon. One way or another.

Because you're the most beautiful woman in the world to me. I don't want anyone else.

Till I see you again...

♥

Coming Soon...

60 Second Scuffle

5 Minute Fight

Quarter Hour Quarrel

Majin

A battle rages on between two conflicting sides,
A side of purest parts of my heart,
A side of coldest and the darkest.

The battle starts and continues,
Knowing that there are many things
More important that need to be dealt with.

And still, this battle will continue,
Regardless of consequence
Until it is much too late.

Only then will I learn
The same lesson that I always learn,
The same lesson that I never learn.

Do What Feels Write

What's the difference between the stories that you wrote with no intent on publishing them and the story that you wrote that was a part of the official series? Quality. The story that had no publishing intentions was leagues better.

Stop worrying about publishing. You didn't start writing to get published. You got into writing to escape. Your stories are not literature, and you know that your stories are not literature, so stop trying to make it into what it is not. Embrace the fact that your stories are not literature. Embrace what your stories truly are: words, sentences, paragraphs, and chapters of epic action packed masterpieces.

You still have your inner child, but you should not be suppressing your inner child when you write. When you write with the goal of getting published, this is seemingly what you do. When you don't, your inner child is free and you make gold. Forget getting published. Unleash your inner child. Write gold.

What you write is your world. Breathe it. Feel it. Live it. Experience it. Unleash it. Feel no pressure to enhance a world that you already created, that already exists, with your vastly improved writing skills. Make the same plot mistakes that you made when you started. Add the unnecessary adventure. Fight the unnecessary fight. Do what feels right. More importantly, do what feels write.

Only a Little Cracked...

I will start a war that I can not win. As long as I create some pain, do some damage, and escape the same way I entered, then mission accomplished.

Some wars are just not meant to be won. This is one of them.

I am a magician. I do magical things. But you've corrupted me. Now you will experience black magic. Good job unleashing my warlock.

Judge me all you want. Talk about me behind my back as you please. Have fun doing it. You're only making me more significant to you than you will ever be to me.

I don't want your pity. I just want your understanding. And if you don't understand by now, then clearly you never will.

I will ask for forgiveness, knowing that I don't deserve it, only once I'm done here. I don't want peace, for peace will only allow me to settle, and if I settle here much longer, I'll collapse.

I will remain silent. I will be silent like a small dose of ever growing poison. I will silently destroy you from the inside. And you won't even notice.

My attacks were always calculated, but now I want more. My greed and my wrath will break me, but it will break you first.

I am not here to win a battle or a war. I am just going to let you feel my pain, even if for a little bit, even if it means nothing to you in the grand scheme of yours.

I am going to be the hand of destruction for a little bit. Clearly, I shouldn't play that role, but your world has given me no choice.

And when I'm done, I will reap what I sow. I will feel the pain and the punishment of my actions.

But that pain will pale in comparison to what happened here.

And I will recover.

And I will be free.

Anti-Savior

Every day I step into that damned arena,
This is the rage I want to feel.
No longer yearning for God's blessings,
I am praying for Satan's hate.
Feed me sin, give me greed, give me wrath,
Give me the fuel that bleeds my eyes.
Grant me extended fever, torch my tortured soul,
Let me toss many flaming stones.

I've been too nice for far too long.
I need the immediate power to escape now.
Patience gone, can't contain my primal fury,
Feel my pain, watch me explode, spectate the broken walls.
And when I leave, I can only hope He forgives me
For forging my path to light via shadow.
Of course, I'll have to start all over,
But at whatever cost, at least I will be free.

The Same Song

We heard the same song,
But you ain't hear it how I heard it.
You heard something hot.
I heard hot garbage.

It's a shallow song indeed,
Dive and get hurt.
Designed for one move,
And that move wasn't thought.

We heard the same song,
But you ain't hear it how I heard it.
All you heard was noise.
I heard a fucking story.

I heard an epic tale
Of a hero scorn
As his exploits fail
And his friends were torn.
That hero got vicious
More so than usual,
With revenge so delicious
The thing he'd do to you
For being pure of dark
And showing no heart,
He silenced his bark,
And tore you apart.
He exterminate thee,
Yet could not fill the hole.
For they permanently
Damaged his soul.

We heard the same song,
But you ain't hear it how I heard it.
You heard a hook.
I heard that all was nothing.

You heard it five times
A day for three weeks
And to you, the lyrics
Remain unknown.
You don't even understand
The build of the song.
It's not meant to stick,
Only to hit it and split.

We heard the same song,
But you ain't hear it how I heard it.
You heard softness,
I heard love.

I heard an epic tale
Of hearts uniting.
While other hearts fail
They kept on fighting.
With all the break ups,
They still believed.
Cleaned off the make up
To see what was unseen.
Together they learned
How not to leech.
Where others would burn,
Together they'd reach
They formed a bond
For a common goal,
And together they donned
A powerful soul.

So continue to listen to what you claim you enjoy.
Continue to wade in puddles.
You don't have to join me, because I won't join you.
I rather weather the storm.

Hidden Power

It can be such a pain when you have to contain yourself.
You sit there and you see what can not be seen.
You act like it's just as normal as everyone makes it out to be.
But you know the secret, you know the truth.

With every action, you mutter those same words that you read
Over and over and over again.
You know how those words relate.
You know the result that is being desired.
And you wonder how you even got those powers to begin with.

What it fate? Was it a dice roll?
Was it being in the right place at the right time?
You will always ask yourself these questions
Because no matter how much you do know
You never really fully know,
And that's what drives you insane.

As though having to keep quiet about it isn't insanity enough,
Everything about it, everything about it, everything about it.
It repeats itself. It all makes sense.
To you and only you.
And only because you won't speak.
And only because you can't speak.
Because once you speak, they'll know you know.

And once they know you know, you're done.
But it's always a trap, always a game, always inescapable.
How did you get here? How did you get this?
How did you earn these powers? These fears?
It's a twister of trivia with no end in sight,
But you never learn the key to end the maddening part
Of all your insanity and all of your psycho.
So don't ask questions. You'll never get answers.

Code of the Mind

Positive feelings towards positive energies.
Yet, I repulse that of the opposition.
There's no real charge on me.
I just push with my hands.

Your walls are not strong.
It's simply just a matter of if.
If they bring a big enough hammer,
Those walls will no longer exist.

Those earthquakes you feel inside?
I feel them too, even stronger.
I don't want to fall in the crack.
I don't.... I just can't let go.

It's funny, the names you call out.
Some are just so false.
And then there are the few.
Those, you'll never comprehend.

I check the box. All the time.
My visions, they see the universe.
Time is no object, but it is,
Can't see it, can't feel it, yet it passes.

I try to hold on to the wind.
You don't need a strong grip for that one.
And yeah, still, sometimes I slip.
I fall. I trip. I land. I hurt.

I sometimes wish I didn't read it,
But it just makes up for the challenge.
Humility is a powerful weapon,
For it burns even after their defeat.

Sometimes, I have to code my thoughts.
Because if I give to you as literally as possible,
You'll call the psych ward on me.
And I don't want to go back.

From the Outside

Nothing holds you back.
And yet, you stand still.
Quiet, timid.
Motionless.
You show no signs of anything.
No signs of strength,
No signs of skill,
No signs of ability.
This leads me to believe one thing...

You're weak.

Everyday, Some Day

And everyday,
The wishes are made.
And some days,
I work towards them.

And everyday,
I pray for the best.
And some days,
I get greatness.

And everyday,
I yearn to see you.
And some days,
I imagine.

And everyday,
My dreams go play.
And some day,
They'll come true.

Anticipation

If I told you that you wouldn't see the end coming,
Would you see the end coming?
I'm telling you that you're in for a surprise,
So therefore, you're expecting something amazing,
But in the end,
Will you really be expecting it?
Will it really be amazing?
Will you really know what it was?

Yell

It was almost poetic, the way you yelled at me.
Told this was wrong, this was the way to do it.
I just stood there, looking like a fool.
But listening.

There was a legit concern on your part,
As there was a legit concern from me.
And you yelled and you yelled and you yelled,
As if I could not hear you at all.

I watched your dramatic theatrics,
The hands, the head, the whole body.
And while you spoke, I noticed a message
That your mouth could not deliver.

It was a unique message, hard to pick up,
But I realized that it was love,
For had we not had that bond,
I could spectate none of what you were doing.

Message in the Distance

All I really have to do
Is write about seventeen lines.
Mangle them all up
With a bunch of ideas.
And probably put in useless little line breaks.

Like this one.

And this one too.

And what happens is,
This looks like too long of a something for you to read,
Because if you have to do a whole other something
Just to continue you reading,
It's not quite worth your time.

But then,
if you don't read it all,
You'll never truly understand.
And if you never finish it,
And you won't catch what I threw.

Another pointless line break.

And another.

Because I'm a terrible guy.

When I want to be.
I've always said,
The best are better at being the worst,
Because when the best is the worst,
Everyone must know about it

And everyone who was affected by the best
And feels the worst
Hurts in the end.

But I'm generally a good guy.
Because I'm at peace with self,
And I know who I am.

A good guy.

With terrible tendencies.

Like this pointless line breaking.

And with it
I make this whole thing way too long
For you to even bother to read,
Because at this point,
You could have done so much else with your life,
And if you just so happen to be reading it still,
You're actually going to sue me
Because time is money,
And this is time that you won't get back.

Well, I'm sorry.
I apologize.
This was un-obviously a very bad test.
I just wanted to know if you were worth it.

Because I love you.

Writing

You give me the highlight
And you see what I do.

I write my own stories,
I wonder, do you?

Obviously in some way,
We're all part of the trap.

But how much of the paper
Has your written rap?

Everyone wants to think
That the choices they make

Are theirs, and free
Of the manipulate.

But no matter much
Your brain tries to fight,

Is it really your own,
This story you write?

Today and Tomorrow

Tonight you will sleep in fear,
Fear of a tomorrow,
A tomorrow that will be greater than today.
But fear is only an illusion,
False Evidence Appearing Real,
So you're simply scared of continuing
Down the path of the useless.

But do you know why you afraid of tomorrow?
Do you know why you fear a greater day?
Because you see no greatness in yourself,
And thus, these days are as meaningless as you find yourself.
You don't want to see tomorrow
Because you already broke you mirror
And you're not in pursuit of a new one.

You don't like the images you see,
And you prefer to have your eyes closed,
But until you die, closed eyes must open.
And you fear death more than you do the next day,
So you maintain a daily nightmare of sorts,
Scared of the new, scared of the day,
And that small moment of night
Is hardly worth waiting for anyway.

So continue with life, coward,
And continue to decide to not mend what's broken.
You fear what you can see the clearest,
And you fear that what you see can't be fixed.

Or perhaps,
It's the fact that it can be fixed,
That you rather not explore...

What a doomed piece of work you are.

Insanity

And within you lies insanity,
A lack of proper thinking,
For all thinking has one focus,
And yet, focus is unsure.

There are only two cures,
Both will change everything,
And change, you aren't ready,
And ready, you will never be.

Hence your inner insanity,
Hence your inner chaos,
Hence your inner fear,
You're too concerned of a future

Where you may win it all
Or you may win nothing.
You could just win what you have,
But all you have is insanity.

Enter My Mind

Feel my love and my lack of hate.
Witness how love drives me crazy.
See my thoughts and all their details,
Live in the fantasy I called the future.

Envision from my eyes how that future played out.
Feel the scorn and pain of disappointment.
Accept all the lessons that I have accepted.
And feel. Feel love again.

Look from my eyes how all is corrupt.
Look, once again, and see the light.
Feel how I walk amongst dirt, in mud.
And watch I soar in the air.

Embrace how I look down upon all from flight.
Read all my stories, listen to my music.
Allow me to dive, cut air, return to earth.
Feel me land and become humble again.

9/11: The Tragedy, The Comedy

So I want to discuss my thoughts on 9/11 on 9/11... is that a problem for anyone?

Apparently it is... it was enough for someone (that I don't know and couldn't possibly care less for) to block me on FaceBook and get a status deleted due to... disrespect.

Disrespect of what? (No idea)

Thing is, I didn't even make a joke about it. It was a simple discussion on whether 9/11 was an inside job or not. And then I'm told to leave the conversation alone and to let those who are in mourning to mourn over it. Of course, because I literally said nothing disrespectful about the situation, I continued. Why? One, to be an asshole (being an asshole on the Internet is fun, you should try it in small morsels), and two, because it was already a topic, and I wasn't going to stop talking about it if everyone else wasn't and if there could be some form of intelligent discussion to be derived from it.

But alas, I was blocked, and the status was deleted. Oh well.

One thing that was discussed was the idea that 9/11 was an inside job. We probably will never know the truth about it, but there's something very important about knowing whether it was an inside job or not.

You see, because of 9/11, airport security has been improved. They've managed to catch a lot of different types of objects and keep all different types of whack jobs off planes because of it. (many many many more people may have missed flights due to security, but that's a different story for a different day.) So if 9/11 happened simply because someone in security slipped up, then I am relatively sure that all bases are covered.

But if 9/11 was an inside job, then I'm just as sure that if someone wanted it repeat those events (and do it on a larger scale), then it could be done, and probably rather effortlessly. And this, I feel, is why it's relatively necessary to know if it was an inside job or not, because while a repeat is clearly preventable in terms of keeping outsiders from pulling it off, what can we do about insiders? I don't know if the TSA is ready to deal with that.

The next thing I want to talk about is the thing that actually ventures into disrespectful territory... 

the jokes.

FUTURE TRUNKS! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE US IN TIME?!

See what I did there?

But yeah... the jokes of 9/11... they're amazing if you look hard enough to find them. Oh, and if you find yourself offended by them. (though honestly, this is my favorite)

The young lady whose name I do not know but can be found under the moniker of Android 18 (and if you click her name, or this, you can go to her FaceBook Like Page) (she's also the one that made that picture and that makes her awesome) said something that I found interesting along the lines of...

9/11 jokes are only unfunny because it's a tragedy that happened in America. People make fun of the nuke bombings in Japan and the Holocaust all the time, both of which had more people killed than 9/11, and people laugh at it all the time, but once you start joking about 9/11, we got a problem.

And it's kind of true. Obviously, you have those people that just get offended by life and therefore any joke about any tragedy offends them. But there are definitely people that will laugh at racist jokes, Holocaust jokes, Japan bombing jokes, dinosaur extinction jokes (hey, they were alive too), Michael Jackson jokes, Whitney Houston jokes, etc. But put out a 9/11 joke, and apparently, a line has been crossed.

My thing is, at the end of the day, they're jokes. I feel like there's a big difference between making a joke about a touchy topic, and then being plain ol' disrespectful about it. Like, there's a big difference between making a racist joke and actually being racist. There's a big difference between make a joke about anyone and actually disrespecting them and their character.

And I think that once people understand that, the world will be a better, more humorous place.

Okay, I think I'm going to cut this blog short. I've got more than I'm willing to type, but I'm tired, I got another adventure to hit up tomorrow (I'm on vacation by the way) (The Adventures of Mark Wins is super dead, so let's not even bring it up) (too bad I already brought it up), and I've made it require that I get up early and stuff. So I'm done here.

9/11. Never forget. And if you do, it's okay America won't let us forget.

Breezy Gust

When the breeze is calm.
When the winds blow you away.
It's hard to control your weather.
It's hard to understand how it affects people.
Being the breeze, an ingredient of relax,
A way to nurture the feels of good.
Being the wind, the gust that annoys,
The tornado that destroys.
You don't want to destroy,
But you can hardly control yourself,
Being so flowing, being so free,
And that's when you realize
That your best move is to blow
In a area somewhere else
Where you will be appreciated,
Or where destruction is needed.
Blow calmly, blow away,
But don't blow here.

Another Outrageous Dream that Needs to Documented

So it's me, RPJ, and Li'l Scar trying to go out to a club one night.

We get near the club, but it looks like every gangster and wannabe gangster ever is trying to kill us... more specifically, me, but they don't seem to mind collateral damage.

We avoid dudes with knives due to their own ignorance and hatred for each other, only for me to be attacked by some Hispanic dude with that wire thing that can choke you and cut your head off or something like that, but I see it coming, and I'm able to protect a part of my neck so the whole thing doesn't get around it, then I punch the dude. RPJ is able to Super Kick some before they can get to it, and Li'l Scar is actually able to remain calm and kill his attempted murderer.

We got up and started to escape, but more thugs attacked us. Li'l Scar pulled out a knife, and along with the fighting skills of RPJ and myself, only to run into dogs that seemed intent on killing me as well. We end the lives of the dogs, and then Li'l Scar steals acar, and drives us to some random strip club that has a drive thru. LOL I DON'T EVEN DRIVE YET, BUT ARE THEIR ANY DRIVE THRU STRIP CLUBS OUT THERE IN THE WORLD?

We all wanted to go in, so we enter the club (not the drive thru, we park the car). As we walk towards a table, some random guy pops a pill in my mouth and says "That should do it." I immediately spit the pill out, ready to beat the guy up, but I was distracted by the boys, telling me that we need to sit down at this table with these three voluptuous white women. We have a small conversation about our night as a server comes and takes out order. The boys and I order non-alcoholic drink via paranoia, while the girls order alcoholic drinks that we agree to pay for. As we agree to do so, the server gives me her number. RPJ wonders how I can just pull numbers without trying. I tell him that I don't even want it and that he can have it, but he says that I should keep it because I might need it more than he does.

By the way, the number was (808)563-6259. I don't know how I remember that number, and I don't know why it's from Hawaii...

Suddenly, everyone leaves the premises, and I black out.Next thing I know, I'm in some building, trying to evacuate everyone. Apparently, I have a number of family members and friends n this building, so naturally, I help them escape. As we get out, the door locks itself shut super tight, and I'm trying my best to open it, but with no luck.

RPJ gets a text asking if I'm okay because apparently all seven terminals of JFK Airport blew up, and that's when RPJ steps away from the building that I'm trying to open up. RPJ looks and sees people trying to jump out the building, then he yells to me to get away from the building because it's about to explode. I look up, and I'm conflicted from catching people to running away. I decide to run, and I'm able to get to a certain distance before some people land on the ground, hurt, and they ask me why did I leave them if I'm supposed to be a hero. Suddenly, the building starts to explode, starting with the top floors, then the bottom floor, which causes that building to collapse, and then a huge chunk of the building comes flying at me. I run, but it's able to catch my legs, pinning me to the floor under it, and sends pieces of glass in my eyes and burns my legs. Someone's able to get my legs free, but they hurt like hell.

The craziest shit though (as if that dream wasn't crazy enough) was the fact that the words "End of Part One, To Be Continued" popped up, like I was starring in my own first person movie or something. And then the burning sensation that I felt on my legs woke me up.

My legs are okay. But wow... another crazy ass dreams in the books.