Friday, September 17, 2010


Out of death rises a fire hotter than the beating heart. A flame infinite in size. It encompasses all who are witness to it, it consumes them, relinquishes their bodies that they might feed the world. All those in this circle wear upon their sleeves not a heart, but the ashes that exist in place of one, that they may nourish the ready mind.

Thursday, July 15, 2010


I have not found occasion to write in a good long time. Not to say that I have not wanted to, but that it seems I will not allow myself to. I can feel my brain impregnated with ideas and thoughts, yet can not seem to find a way to break down the wall that holds them in. As if the muse that shows me the way to reveal my ideas to world has taken a vacation. I feel that to remedy this situation I must read more. That if my muse will not help me, then I will inspire myself through rigorous mental exercise till my brain is so full of thoughts that they simply overflow. That sounds like a good idea. Yeah, I'll do that.

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

It's been an inordinate amount of time sense I have had a late night rant, and thus seek to remedy the situation forthwith. I believe myself in the possession of the wherewithal to sustain a demeanor of equilibrium. Which is to say that I have in some way grasped confidence in the way I wish to. A feat that, as of yet, I have been unable to achieve. I have often heard that heartbreak is great for the poet, and that happiness leaves him idle, and I fear this occasion in me, though have in motion the stirrings of a plot with which to thwart such deviousness. Anyways, I'm tired. Goodnight.

Monday, February 1, 2010


It is an exceptionally odd thing to have a connection to a place to which you do not belong. In a way, the connection is to a space. Which is to say the time and place together. The time being gone I am left with only the place to remind me of the fact that I once belonged there. So, though I possess a connection through my memories of that space, my sense of belonging in the place has been annihilated.

Sunday, January 3, 2010


It is like my identity is not carved in stone, but more like it has been molded from clay. It is malleable and potentially changeable. It seems that I am who I am only in reference, whereas others know who they are I seem only to guess. I lack the solid resounding clarity of a concrete identity. I am too adaptable to circumstance, to ready to accept the way things are. This has forced my identity into a constant state of flux, as I have never taken the time to truly refine and clarify what is me. I spend too much time thinking of other things. Though, perhaps this is only how it seems at the moment.

Friday, June 5, 2009


I sit in a library, contemplating things of great worth, when I should be contemplating things of greater necessity. I find here amongst my thoughts that place inside myself that possesses that unique ability to filter emotions through a sift of logos, eventually unearthing the preternatural disposition of the unfamiliar. This frame rests on my countenance with immutable clarity. Whence came I to this odd torrent. I have been successfully "entropolized" with unshakable steadfastness, yet it is not a feeling I do not entirely wish to shake. I find solace in the fact that eventually this will end; all of it will, and this thought is compelling and even calming at times. Tranquility in the form of disruption. A single act of sublimity made all the more real from its shattered and fragmented perspective. Where is it that this panoptic vision comes from, this penultimate epiphany? This frame is unyielding and impenetrable; yet, it is grafted to me in a wholly unstable way, such that it can spontaneously and without warning create and diffuse a cacophony of explosive thoughts. Intensity expands in the current mood, and reaches into the heavens, and it ascends even my own bounds of containment. A wholly rending structure. I am most definitely more aware, but it is at the price of greater intensity; in everything. So all things come at me with a tenfold force, but I understand with then times the insight. Double sided as it ever was this intensity is my weapon, and I must wield it. I shall delve it in all its forms no matter how emaciated I become for doing so. The dichotomy of all things exists in every thing, even us.

Monday, May 25, 2009

Entropy vs Sublimity

He told me we would all fade in entropy
So I gave all of who I am, to everything that was
With reckless abandon
Did I give
So as to bring more swiftly this end
to turn more quickly into dust
I emptied my soul like it was the coffers of King Midas
For what has entropy to the sublimity of this moment
How is it one can live forever?
It is not to last until the fall of time
it is to find all of time in a single fall
In a single moment
I shall live forever
Not because I shall never perish, but because I shall find forever in every moment.
Yet this moment too shall perish