A solid barren wall seperates me from the others.
Closed off from any treachery, nothing to fear
Back towards the beast all I see is his reflection,
Quiet whispers of deceit is all that I hear.

Follows the snakes or walk the path,
I don't know what to choose.
Wandering the darkness alone,
Dazed and confused.
Facing a battle with phantoms,
But it's too late to lose.
Casualties of belief,'
Only left with the bruise.

At a loss for words, thoughts spilling forth like a punctured wound.
The blood stains, remnants of pain, leaving you empty and drained.
Leaving you with nothing, but memories of content.
Shreds of what you had, left battered and bent.

Tears flow so freely.
Unconstrained by the echo of time,
Thoughts clouded with misery,
A wasted mind at its prime.

We were once so innocent,
Now all we had is shattered.
Words were an escape from reality,
But now nothing else matters.

In the ruins I see broken dreams...
Tiny fragments of desperation.
Hope dimmer than a burnt out candle,
Left with less than a pathetic consolation.

Deluding oneself to believe a truth of the past...
But the futures already vanished,
Snuffed out in a flash.

Twilight Stars Twinkle.
A million eyes glued to the skies,
The globe spins on its axis.
Few wonder how or why.

It's like no one really cares,
About what is just or fair.
Never watching where they step,
Falling right into the snare.

Structure imposes uniformity.
It begs to constrict your mind,
And so no one really listens,
Or reads between the lines.

The ink sinks into the pages.
Although few heed the call.
It breaches the halls of knowledge,
A gust of wind blows through the hall.

Sometimes I hear voices,
But its like theres not enough time to jot them down.
And when I do bother to listen,
All I hear is sounds.

I have this constant flow of thought,
About all the destruction thats been wrought.
In times like this I won't cry,
Won't let my spirit die,
I'll only look up to the skies,
And wonder how and why.

So solitary
I sit alone void of the light
Tryin to battle whats in me
But im avoidin the fight
Corrupt thoughts devouring the pure
Destroyin whats right
N I ain't never gonna stop
Cuz I enjoy what I write

N I don't care if its right
N I don't care if its wrong
Don't care to be polite
When I'm writin dis song

Preoccupied with escaping reality
I take ya mentality
Break it and make it a fatality
spittin murderous lyrics no sign of morality

im a victim of my vices
givin birth to a demon like the eye of isis
left to my own devices, im facin an inner crisis
been to hell n back and my only work of advice is
never trust a liar,
beware, of how the blade slices
dont put ya money down if you dont what the price is


cuz once you pay you'll realize you cant measure the strain
after all the pleasure n pain
and you still in the rain
But its never in vain

cuz even throughout the drought
you left with nothin but doubt
n sometimes you feel you cant do nothin but shout

But you learn from your mistakes
the pains returnin and it aches
and the only choice you got is to start turnin on them snakes
cuz they aint doin nothin for you cept leavin you burnin at the stakes

n i dont trust no body
not blood boys or bitches
focusin on knowledge
ill never give in to riches

nor to desire
Within me lies a burnin fire
I aspire to fly higher
n Rise above the spire
Fuck your crutches, there not required

The worlds fucked up and plays some fucked up games
I got stabbed in the back once I won't let happen again
Not fuckin with caine, stayin away from the devils domain
Tainted thoughts contained
Wanderin planes,
Lookin for someone to explain
How to remain sane throughout all the mundane

day to day, bullshit, straight up, i cant handle it
grab the mic n dismantle it
burn up paper wit my pen like a candle wick

cuz im sick and tired of lies and deception
stressin, spittin fire my pen is my only weapon

So apparently I suck at updating this thing.

Writing can be such a chore sometimes...it's like you've got these thoughts ready to spill forth at any given moment but when you try to release them willingly they refuse to manifest. With me writing is really hit or miss. Sometimes I'll feel like I'm fuckin shakespeare, writing away frantically, struggling to keep up with the pace of my thoughts and jot down as many words down as I can. Other days I feel like a rock would have more to say than I do.

Writers are a fickle bunch. They exploit their emotions, exposing their thoughts for the whole world to poke and prod at. I used to love poetry, but you can't love a whore. We're on a 'break'.

Poetry was once so highly respected. In Ancient Rome, Philosophers and Poets were seen as the single most important members of society; for the republic relied upon those intellectually inclined to make their decisions. Funny how 'democracy' is supposedly modeled after Plato's republic. I wonder what Plato's views on Bush's war on terror would be. Surely he's rolling in his grave.

Poetry has been reduced to a commodity in this modern day and age ; when the average person thinks of a "poem", they think of the trite garbage that Hallmark squanders on the daily I wouldn't dare label anything found on a Hallmark card as "poetry". It's cheese, nothing more nothing less. It's sad really, people actually respected poetry at one point. Surely theres still great poetry out there, but the majority of stuff I read nowadays has no soul, no heart in its, its made to sound a certain way and appeal to a certain audience in order to make sales. It's become a commodity, plain and simple.

It will take a new generation of writers who recognize the potential of the spoken word to restore poetry to its rightful, noble place; a generation of writers who see poetry as more than just a gimmick. Until then, we'd better pray Hallmark doesn't pounce on this new holiday "family day". The potential for copious amounts of cheese is unprecendented.

As I peer into the depths the darkness swallows all.
Devouring hope, like a soul’s last breath.
Echoes in my mind merely a hollow call,
Blinded by the flash of a souls last death.

Reincarnated by the reaper,
The abyss offers no release.
No faith for the forgotten,
No dreams for the deceased.

Blood trickles down limestone and stains the concrete,
Satan’s corrupt seeds planted deep in the Earth.
To flourish and grow upon tears of the weak,
Anxiously awaiting their glorious birth.

The wakeless never awaken until they are awoken,
Until the ghost in the shell is left brittle and broken,
Gasping for the breath upon which they are choking.
Nothing is worth less…
Than latent words left unspoken.

-RaZe.

Nothing ever worth knowing can be taught.

...Well, at least thats what I told myself this morning.

I'm still having trouble adjusting to the journalistic writing style. I think I may have fared better if I would have just got into english, or history, or literature. Simply for the reason that I find it much easier to read a book and write an essay on it in contrast to writing an article. It's just a different mindstate you have to get in, so many years of trying to embellish essays to sound like a smartass in highschool has brainwashed me into thinking this actually sounded good. Looking back, alot of the shit I wrote in highschool was pretty ridiculous. Although I still firmly stand by the word 'underlying' as one of the greatest tools in the language to make a completely irrelevent point sound amazing.

I've always felt that good writing should come from the heart. True written word should never be simple, because the english language has so much more potential then that. I've always thought good writing should have depth, dimension; an intricate layer of thought that the reader can interpret in many different ways. Most importantly, good writing sh0uld never be read, but heard.

You can do so much with words. Theres always a world of possibility when you jot down those letters on a piece of paper. To appreciate a word it must be taken with your ears and not your eyes, for to deny the english language its right to vocalize should be a crime. I don't know, maybe I'm crazy, but to me, words have always had the biggest impact on me when read aloud. It's like giving it that extra dimension of expression just makes it so much more meaningful.

But what I love most about the spoken word is that it just sounds so much more final, than when on a piece of paper. I solidly believe words are the most powerful weapon on the planet...when used properly. Few public figures, and when I say public figures, I mean politicians, in western history have harnessed the abilty to truly exploit language to its full potential, mostly writers, poets, or philosophers who go largely unnoticed in their lifespans, only making an impact on thought many years before their demise. Although there are those who stand out, who truly changed the world with their words.

..... I always cite a particular person when I get to this point, but I probably shouldn't here. I have a feeling it would somehow come back to bite me in the ass 10 years from now. I dont trust cyberspace. So...yeah.

I hate rain.

It's truly a struggle waking up when you look out the window and its already dark outside.

It's just so gloomy and depressing, almost as if its God's way of saying; give up.

It's been a bitch getting anything done as of late, anything of value, that is. I accomplish plenty of useless things that only perpetuate my self loathing and absolute denial of reality. Most importantly, I haven't been reading anything out of an academic context, and I can gradually feel my wits growing more dull with every passing moment. It's frustrating, when you encounter writers block, and you havent even been writing for long. It's like a near mental block, your mind saying, what the fuck man, if you dont exercise me, I'm going to get lazy. I figure this blog will help me get back into the cycle of writing on the daily. Definetely a neccessity if I plan on getting anywhere in life. I had one before, but it has been officially labeled as Missing in Action. I don't know what the fuck happened to it, it's randomly vanished off the face of cyberspace.

So this is day 1. The start of a new era. I'm excited. This should be fun.