We're forever unfililled

"we're forever unfilfilled."

forever unsatisfied.

forever thirsty for SOMETHING.
Sex. Affirmation. Love. Food. Sex. Sleep. Repeat.

but every life has the same end - death.

we die unfulfilled.
or perhaps we carry on.
who knows.

The point is to live in the this feeling your feeling now.
Pay attention and take note because soon it will all change.
It will change and change and then change again til your dead.

So all life is is embracing the change and pondering the past, looking for hidden lessons or messages beneath the reality. To make sense of you life, so that its one not wasted.

beauty is wasted on the youth.
an evolved mind, that a beauty of a different kind.
Like one who can understand the heart of another mind.
How to nuture as to affirm
how to supply comfort
to distract
to connect and lean back.

life dont come easy to the rich or the poor
money cant solve all the riddles soon in store
best we can do is love and pretend
that it can be enough to have these years with a friend.

travel alone

How can I know your love is one I  can be sure of?

Songs of romance only gives me false hope that two people can actually stay in love.

We live in too selfish of a world, where to ask one to stay is just as selfish as trying to leave

why did all these fairytales forget to mention their based off makebeleive?

I had a love once that never had time to grow.

It died by the winter time and I still mourned it till two summers ago.

I had hoped a new love would bloom in its place, but instead friendship has done well to lead me to this fate

I may be destined to travel alone

something just as beautiful, if not more poetically toned.

There are many things I would like to share with you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FQ2yXWi0ppw


She opens Letters to a Young Poet to one of her favorite pages:

 "You are so young,... and I want to beg you, as much as I can, dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foriegn tongue.  Do not now seek the answeres, which cannot be given to you becuse you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live EVERYTHING. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer." 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6hzrDeceEKc   

There are many things that I would like to say. 

He is no different then you and I.

He falls and triumphs just like the next guy.

There is nothing super human about this man,
for he's realized time and again how life doesn't always go according to plan.

I've decided to be a full time blogger.

I was thinking about the things people can leave behind in this world.

And it reminded me of something my hs english teacher once said.
"No one takes words more seriously then a writer."

I agree. Writers notice things about the world that are hidden to the naked eye. They see a moment and recreate it so a reader can envision it in their mind.

Then the question popped into my head.
"Am I a writer?"

I mean i've written these blogs for some time now. But does anyone really read it? Does it count if you have no fans or followers?

Do my words matter?

Which has lead me to this. I am making the conscious decision to become a full time writer.

Because I have these words stuck inside me,
and at times I feel them beating on my chest from within
making my heart race
and i'll want to scream
but i'm too scared to scream
too scared of what the world would think
the fear
felt too great
and it silenced me towards a weary fate

but its odd how different I feel now
how the fear has melted and and ease has replaced it
so the ease leads me to these keys
and these keys spell out these words
as I type them on this digital page
to share with the digital world.

I won't know if the reader is a boy or a girl
but reguardelss of the gender or age or perspective
I'm sharing my thoughts
expressing my sorrows
in hope you can relate and feel better about tomorrow.

"I was never insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched." - Edgar Allan Poe

When I read this and think how sane I have felt in these recent months, its almost displeasing to realize my heart has been untouched for so long.

I went mad when my heart felt you leave its side,
when the comfort of your touch was no where in sight.
Now that I am on the other side,
how I sit so often and miss the way love had opened my eyes.

why is it so hard to accept the love thats in front of us?
why does it feel so wrong to follow the things we lust?
when will there be a path that I can trust?