Stay you. Stay true.

Worth it?

Am I worth something to anyone? Besides my parents and my sisters, or my closest friends.

Am I worth the time and effort for someone to fall in love with me?

Is anyone looking for me, for what I have to offer, or for who and all that I am?

Is there more than just existential value to my life?

Will I ever experience true love? Is there anyone who could be my “one”?

The Other 90%

What if every aspect of our universe was relative to our personal, singular perception? Consider this: we only use about 10% of our brain capacity, yet we’re always trying to determine how the other 90% is used. What if it’s ALWAYS being used? What if we’re all just unintelligible, unthinking beings congregated on a plane of existence that may or may not be Earth, and the only reason we perceive it to be so is because our perceptions of the world are formed by outside influences? These influences come into play even before we’re born. What is headaches are our mind’s attempt to break through this perceptual barrier? What if we’re all speaking mutually unintelligible gibberish and our minds are automatically forming these incoherent communicatory actions into coherent communication, based on the perceptions we are imbued with from birth? How do we know that who we say, or we think, we are is really who we are?

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Perfection is subjective, unless an overwhelming force says one thing must look this way and the other thing must be that way. There will always be that force, that opposition of the heart’s true desire, that enemy of the soul’s pure nature. It will never cease, not now, not someday in the future; it will never relent. Perfection will never be perfect in a world where a materialistic society determines the parameters for “perfection”.

Beneath the Cedar Tree

It was by chance that I sat near the tree,
A stroke of good fate, a charm of sweet state.
When came you around the next bend upon me,
A picture of beauty, a mirror of purity.

Came you to me and sat ‘neath the cedar,
A pleasant surprise of gold-and-green eyes.
You flashed me a smile and made me much cleaner,
A dazzle of white, a shining redeemer.

My face all awrought and fouled by the season,
A viscous sight seen, a vision unneeded.
But still you came on with black-and-white reason,
The horror forgotten, the pain secedin’.

Then our lips touched with near-perfect timing,
A kiss so fate rotten, my woes were ungotten.
And deeply we kissed with passion undying,
A man and a woman; indeed, a strange passing.

Colors of Me

What to do
When blue is the hue,
When all of my thoughts,
Are all about you?

What to say
When green is the day,
When all of my thoughts,
Are all held at bay?

What to think
When I am all pink,
When all of my thoughts,
Are all gone to drink?

What can I do,
What can I say,
When my life is blue
And slipping to gray?

Wishes

I wish with all the might,
Contained within the portents of a night,
That I could converse with you just once.

I wish with all the strength,
Contained within a lion’s great length,
That I could say, “You’re beautiful.” just once.

I wish with the power of every wish’s lost wisher,
Of every wish’s lost lover,
Of every wish’s lost trickster,
To tell you all of this and more,
To tell you what your beauty is for,
But I cannot, for not’s not aught to struggle with naught.