wicked

Forgive this wicked soul
for every thought a sin
even repentance
how more so the others?

untitled

I can't believe you did that
my hurt is beyond my pain
if only words suffice
I would tell myself everything

a sensible doubt

Maybe, just maybe, I'm not so special after all.  Perhaps I wished to die a long time ago, and in my desperate attempt to save my own life, I made myself special.  It is for this I live on, it is my raison d'être. One day, it was hoped, that this salvation would indeed turn into something especial.

Hope, however, is not known to materialize itself.  It's only natural for hope to find emptiness.  There hope rests, but never dies.

It has been a burden to be special, I envy those who chose to die a long time ago.

When should I choose this death?  Now perhaps.  Maybe I do.  I do.  I am specialnot.

But that doesn't mean I know who I am.

who throws a change-up before a fastball?

I do
if you don't understand
f you

dear Lord

Forgive this simple soul
a sinner at best
unfit for any grueling test
lacking auspice
I am but a willing Judas
woe to the numb and dumb
for they are blinded to the kingdom come
make me mercy
before they come and take me

hey

hey little one
there are many drafts
many unfinished businesses
if i could finish them
then i could sleep like you,
little one
without ever waking up

It must be a real blessing to sleep without waking up.  No I am not talking about death, I'm talking about you.

day of innocence

Eight years ago she told me I was interesting, that if I were to write a book, she would definitely buy it.  Eight years later I am still trying to write that same book for her, so I can dedicate it to her, and seal our deal with my autograph inside our book.

I doubt we know each other anymore, but I'll never forget those words of innocence.

Perhaps one day you shall hold a book that belongs to us, even if you don't plan to read it.

it's nice

It's nice to know where you are going.  It's nice, on your way there, you see two little racoons.  It's nice, next to the racoons, there are two resting deer.  It's nice, that nobody at such a moment gives a damn about the deer.  It's nice, to be a deer.

Perhaps I should enjoy this kind of pleasantness more.  Perhaps more is always the answer.

It's nice to reach your destination, full of sentiments.

truism

Turns out, the people who love you don't really understand you, and the people who understand you don't really love you.

a fantasy, inside a tiny head

I wish to dream of me
of me standing upon a green field
staring out to a forest
with no glasses
yes, no glasses
there, dreaming once more
that all trees within my sight will bow their heads to me
with no expressions on their faces
only then
only then should I be allowed to dream of a land
which I call home

言

近朱者赤近墨者黑吾彼朱彼墨

revision

There are no foolish questions, but only a fool will keep asking questions.

Okay this is a better way to put it.

here i am

Here I am, reading
Here I am, writing
Here I am, trying
to convince the world that my head is worth
more than Lincoln
more than Jefferson
perhaps more than Washington
Here I am, panting
here, not there
but everything, after all, is never about where

cross

On my way to purchase something of no importance, I waited on the sidewalk to cross the street.  As cars whisked by my feet in the wintry cold, I realized that death is simply one step away.  It takes a very special individual to walk into their death this way, knowing that he will be dragged by a dusty engine for at least 60 feet.

I am not that individual, nor do I wish to be.

I waited, until everything cleared, before sauntering into God's hands.