I shed one
A thousand emotions follow
A pool of sorrow
Millions of synapses comes to view
Inner sanctity come up to morrow
There my eyes in full blur
To these cries goes unnoticed
To which pains I have been on
Kneel down and be humbled
At least you are here with me
oct ’15. Orig vers, Refreshed= jun ’17
at last, at last I am bound to see my pillow
As I lay my head down
All fade away
As I enter the portal
In my slumber
I see nothing
But the void weeps for me
The dawn awaits for me
As my eye roll
I awake I find myself dreaming again
For the first time I see this life
Is and shall be the nightmare
That I live every single moment
Just need to wake up
A lifetime ago I am reminded of my diagnosis, everything was a joke. But schizophrenia fit me profile well. How can you tell someone if he can hear the divine, schizophrenic right. But didn’t Joan of Arc heard him too, didn’t she saved her nation in the time it needed her help. In the end the red t tape of power took her life and ended it by proclaiming that she was a witch.
All serial killers if you care to really listen to their plea and admonition, in one way or another there were an influential voices that they have heard.
This condition of schizophrenia is an innate ability to create one’s own world and use it for the user either his talents or those who would question it, give him skepticism and sedate it.
If Proffesor Xavier of the X Men did exist today, he would be diagnosed with this condition.
All telepaths or of the sort, has that drawback or even their schizophrenic episodes. Yet one thing remains, choice.
How can one person use his disability use it as an ability than to be disabled all his lfe. It’s a choice that we all have, and in that separates common and extraordinary people.
How would you choose if some psycho babbler tells you cannot do normal things and constructive thinking. Do you really have to believe those to limit the person, or use that ability to make it work and have the power toon turn it around and own it. With it, it will take you to heights of your Life and accept no limits.
Limitations will be those chains that binds you here in this plane, but if you care to listen to the inner self. Maybe you can hear him.
For it is the choice of belief in yourself has to come first or listen to people who want nothing to see you in sedation sombered and in the end, be more insane and will be locked away.
To protect one has to harm himself first than to heal.
It is the way of life to those who chooses this way of living.
When Bruce Wayne lived amidst the world, he made himself a gargoyle of society. A protector of causes that which he advocates that to protect you must risk without intent of killing the adersary.
The Late sijo of Jeet June Do was fully aware of his life, he protected his way of life by immortalizing by example. First a book, then films after his death in 73, everybody capitalized from him. In which the art of his nationality is preserved and given to the world, at the same time providing for his family for future financial gains.
Again and again service men of each nation goes to uphold and fight for everyone. Albeit it has repercussions late in their life, their sacrifices are always in vain. Yet people who choose this way, I am proud coz they suffer inside and out. Sometimes we all see the negatives of protection than to advocate the just cause of life itself.
I would like to extend my deepest appreciation for those who know what it means, to protect and to serve the citizens of this world to on the next.
I met my soon to be from a memory back in 1984.
I kept her in me all throughout my episodes of the past.
When in 2010, my heart stopped my mind focused my life wanted her
Risking everything I got
2012 we married, 2013 we moved, 2014 we started now living
I want her body so bad, I want her the way she use to be
I need her so much
For every drop of my waterfalls adjusts into the pool
Pains, tragedy, tribulations, inner turmoil
Nothing can make me love you more
For each night and day
I want you more and more
In this night I follow
Til the eve of my sorrow
To thine shine
The gleam abode of my eye
I ask of your children not to tear me
Rather to be with them and be their tool in their times of need
I followed from dusk
I saw my twilight
Acknowledged the power of night
And in the waning morning
I’m in my cottage to lie buried
In this burdened lifetime.
Hell, what about it. Can there be a literal hell down below?
What do you believe? For me there physical manisfations of it, it’s called mental turmoil. From this point when a person goes through his own hell, only he can go through it and live to see his own heaven. But sometimes his heaven can turn against him if someone could make it a living hell out of it.