Wait For It, It Pans Out, Kind Of

We spend so much time lately searching for something that has always been there. We spend our time pretending we don’t see it at all. Yet bitch and moan that only if this or only if that we could have a sense of purpose. Existence is nothing more than the idea to keep going. Bombs satisfy these needs only in defense. As an offense strike missiles provide nothing more than what they advertise. Destruction, destruction of a person, destruction of an identity lost only because they do not share the same view.

We preach that we are righteous, that we are holy, and that we are above all principled. Are we really when we do so much wrong? If we really cared. If we really wanted to make a difference and to prove we are what we say. We would spend money to educate, rebuild, and promote the acceptance of differences rather than bomb the living shit out of them.

We keep taking the easy way out and it never pans out. Not once has our way been the better way there’s just no one left to tell us so. Our ways will run out and we will fall. Not because our way was completely wrong, but because it is broken. Our society is better in so many ways, but there are way too many faults to outweigh the good. Our broken education system works wonders to promote an agenda we swear up and down that we are not following. Keep us deaf, dumb, and stupid. As long as we keep buying everything will be alright.

What happens when there is nothing left to own?

What happens when we have everything we will ever need as we have had for the past twenty years?

What happens to us then?

We fall apart as we are now. Our education is outdated by thirty years and counting thanks to all of our innovations.  Each year we fall behind because we can not keep up with the technology. The education gap is spreading further and further apart yet we keep hammering the old ways over and over again. We focus all of our efforts to teaching things that can easily be taught at home, and yet because we need so much shit there is no one at home to teach them.

No one at home who isn’t too tired to take a vested interest in what the fuck is going on. We are working so hard to realize this dream that we so deeply believe in yet no one can remember what it is we actually dream about. No one actually remembers why it is that we live. Why it is that we have come here in the first place. Fuck everything that moves of course and spread the sickness that is life.

Special Broken Up Thoughts (Vulgar)

This is a special Broken Up Thoughts this week. Posting two days earlier because I have an even more special post for Wednesday. Not going to give away what it is, but it is pretty cool and very something different. I hope you check it out.  Ambrose  11/6/17

 

The thunderous stomping of God’s feet surrounds me
Consumes my, my mortal soul
Broken down by treacherous, Broken down by the sin
Her cries ring out across the walls of the tomb
Condemn for believing any of this could be true
Listen for the sound, the sounds of thunder
Breaking away icebergs on the plains
Shifting from one place to the next
Unmovable force from inside my head

 

Working out the reasons that none of this makes sense
Looking for a reason that I feel like shit
Consumed by all your selfish needs

 

“Vulgarity is nothing more than the mind telling the truth.”

 

Wiping your ass with the pages of the bible
Isn’t okay even for an atheist
A broken soul who has lost control
Judas may have had a point but still turned out wrong
Miss information can breed dirty rats
Cunts filled with sickness and death
Vulgar, I’m blatantly aware of my condemnation

 

“Windows 8 ran into some problems. It realized it was Windows 8. Would you like to send a report, so we can make Windows better?”

“Don’t see how this could help any. It seems the “better” you get the worst you get.”

 

Bit of religious randomness with a shitty Windows joke. Why not? I’m scratching my brain to think of something to say…. Have you picked up your copy of A Lie yet? It’s waiting with your name on it… In the mean time take care and good luck…. 

 

And Other Things From This Time Preview

Descending

I forge a path
I forge ahead of the rest
In the end
Left in the back
I dance before I awake
Covered up for good
Yet it is all the same
Visualize in my mind
There’s not much left to hide
My soul bleeds open
As if cut or torn
My mind like one big wound
I was lost and I still am
Time doesn’t heal anything
For the damned
Time does nothing more
Than keep track of everything lost
Bleed like me and I will
Follow the trail into the dark
Bleed like me and I will
Heed your warning until the end
Too late to change anything
Here we go again but in the end
I gave up a long time ago
Before here and now
Deep in the ground

 

Do Nothing

I bleed and I scream
I dream and I leave
At the time and for me
Life is a glimpse
Of something I don’t know
I wait for a signal
Then at once I should go
The tunnel is dark
Long and without hope
The path is clear
Of hidden danger and the unknown
I bleed and I scream
I dream and I leave
I do something
But in the end I do nothing

Two more poems from my book now available on Kindle… A mixed bag of emotions beat with a small wooden bat… Broke the larger one trying to figure this all out… Desperately need bat money or a new bat… Thanks for the help and your time… Until tomorrow.. Best of luck…

Beyond The Time

In every past life, at every attempt I have failed. Every new life is nothing more than another mistake. A continued struggle that lives through me dwelling for centuries, maybe even eons. I don’t know anymore. In every reincarnation I have learned nothing new. The idea of it all seems so impossible even to me. Possible or not I am forever trapped on this plane of existence. A never-ending nightmare where only the surroundings change and not the circumstances in which I came to be. It is almost as though I don’t even exist.

Blind, the people around me are blind to their own recurring cycles. Spinning out of control together we dance in circles without the thinnest idea we have done this before. Not a day on repeat, but a lifetime of pain and suffering. From the cradle to the grave, day after day I clutch at nothing. Receiving nothing in this alleged life as yet another hand full of ash flows through my fingers. I’ve watched her die over and over again. The way may be different in each lifetime, but her eyes.

The look in her eyes never changes. They stare me down. Straight into my soul. They say, “Why?” Why haven’t you saved me? Not even once. The look in her eyes is what I fear each and every life time. I will continue this cycle unless I find my way out of this place. The surreal knowledge of all the pain I am destined to experience hangs over me like a dark cloud. It is years before I remember that I have been here before, that I have done this before, and the emotions flood in. Can we really be the only ones? Could it be possible that the others willingly participate in their own pain? When did this begin? My brain wants to explode at the thoughts. Questions I have asked before I’m sure. Questions I am still compelled to ask today.

I play my part and I do my time. Waiting for something, anything that could be seen as an answer.  There is no God in a place like this or there is nothing but God. Stabbing, digging through the life time ahead of me. Waiting for something to change other than the time. Ashes to ashes, she will rise again after I have fallen and risen once again. I will find her, we will fall in love, and then she will die once again. A love that I can not stop myself. An unbroken chain of desire. I need to fight it. Fight what compels me inside. Broken, my mind is broken from all the life times I have lived. I’ve gone by so many names I no longer know what my name once was. I have helped empires to rise only to be there when they fall. If this is hell. How long is an eternity?

Underground Parking Structure For All Eternity

I think of all the things that I have to say and all the things that I want to say. Two very different and conflicting ideas. The question is am I happy? Simple at first more complex as time goes on. Define the word happy or the feeling of happiness. No one is happy for longer than a few seconds. The feeling fades, cum and you are done, the feeling disappears into the brink of darkness. Overwhelmed by all the living done around me. I don’t remember a happy time from my childhood, but I can recall in detail every single horrible thing that I was put through.

I remember these things like most people remember fond memories of loved ones. It is that only these tortures memories were, are my only friends. Why must I always be submerged in darkness even in light? I wonder if it is just me. This is who I am. Depression is often described as though a dark cloud is always hanging overhead. Always ready to rain. The feelings never ends. Forty more years of this seems like an eternity yet the last thirty went to fast to be doing nothing at all. Choosing a path is so much harder without a trail.  So much harder in the rain from a storm that blinds my eyes. Built to be stronger than the way I portray in my life. Though maybe I am weak after all. Too weak to see the good that I still have left in me. Seems to lie with in the same region as happiness. It comes and goes, but really I’d love to be the one to destroy it all.

Burn it all down and absorb the screams. Enjoy the end much more than the beginning. Would be hard at first to go against nature. The day-to-day things might come back to haunt me. Faded memories, but I’d forget their faces after a time. I know by the time that it was all said and done I could get over the shock and aww. We paint the devil as a villain while giving him all the traits of a hero. A liberator of man only to be tinged by the flames he wanted all along. His punishment was his goal in the end. Who really won? We fight every moment to obtain what we are trained to never achieve. We praise Jesus, but worship Satan. Doing the right thing only gets you crucified. Suffer until there is nothing left. What if the bible is real, but we have miscomprehended it since the dawn of time? What then?

If God was among us what would she really have to say? Live your life or do it my way. It’s all the same as time goes on. We make choices for no reason at all and decisions on our own time. Nothing ever lasts, but we’ll wait until the last second to figure that out. Not an issue when there is still so much time left for me to decide.

Something Different

Long Legitimate Regret

There is a war within myself
One that can not be won with blood and guts
This can’t be the end
But I fear that it must
Each day is a plague within itself
A lost cause of hopeful redemption
One that could only do better with mass amputation
A removal of myself
A separation of mind from body
I hope one day for it to all go away
Though I know less hopeful things
Will come true
If this is the end
Embrace it as  if holding an old friend
Too much has changed since the beginning
Your bull-headed stubbornness was cute
Now it is nothing more than sad and pathetic

 

Become

If I still cared
I might have tried
But I don’t so
So all be left alone
Not sure if this is a
Punishment or reward
Everything has its benefits
Disadvantages
I could care if I was still
If I was still me
But time has changed everything
I’ll become what I fear
Not sure if this is a
Punishment or reward
Disassociate myself
Isolation is key
To everything I have become

 

Unsure

So they say
That it is the age of death
So they say
A lot of things
Who are they
That you listen too
So they say
We are all murderers and thieves
So they say
To hear themselves speak
Who are they
Anyways
So they say
That the world will end today
So they say
Anything that you want to hear
Who are they
Inside your head

This is the age of death
A disease
We are the murders and thieves
A mark
The end is today
A sacrifice
Who am I anyways?
Overly lost and confused
Locked away
Left for dead

Bowl Full of Something and It Keeps On Moving

Early, I’m always early. For what I don’t know. It’s not as though anyone is standing around ready to go. Waiting on me to show my ugly face. Always in a hurry to be done with whatever it is that I’m doing. Out of time, I’m always out of time I suppose.

I’ll be early for death and in a hurry to get it over with. Yet I suffer from extreme anxiety that I will die before I am able to accomplish anything. Whatever that might be. An enigma, I am an enigma. Andrew Jackson Jihad has a song called “This is Why I’m Hot.” In it the singer states that he only has two years left with no context to why he only has this much time. Since turning twenty-eight it is as though the song and the lyrics have become my mantra. How long do we chase the ghost? Until we die? I feel as though the longer I go the more the lyrics will depress me.

Who knows though maybe one day I will never feel like this anymore?

Maybe one day I’ll be dead. I fear that death is nothing more than one long therapy session. Constantly thinking, reflecting on a life time full of bull shit and regret. Worthless excuses to why I didn’t do this, but rather did that. I often wonder what it is that I will say if this is how death is. I suppose that is why I write. Get all of this off my chest before the big day. As I stated before always early and always in a hurry.