I behold all the power, you hold the plug.

Grown to know, the difference between attraction distraction and reaction. Peacefully pleasing purposefully pressing potential. It's these walls where I get the most attention. Given hopelessly alone. From you, the simplest form of affection, shown as a thread through the eye of a needle, perfectly placed. Able to be strung out and hung. Dangling before the task at hand, waiting for the maker to start. As though it's a game played by the puppeteer carefully moving his checkers on a chess board. Slight confusion unconsciously rambling through chattered teeth. I behold all the power. Continuously learning the right choices are the hardest to make. Those that see and understand are the torch bearers of faith. We cannot always win. In Fact we don't often do. It's a term referred to altering perspective. Make believe. Pretend. No need to pinch yourself, as you will on your own wake up in the morning. And it will be another day. Take the steps of a choreographed life.

unexpected fun

we went into it without any expectations. we just followed and felt the energy and did what was right. and in the strangest of times, she laughed. I questioned her laughter, and she said simply as smiling ear to ear:

"I'm just having a good time!"

today this is a lesson. don't fall victim to a pretend sense of reality

 i just realized something. each night, felt pleasant and fun. something new, mellow, and relaxing. a time spent together, enjoying each other's company. indulging in a few things we don't normally get...looking back though, i guess it became routine. cozy comfortable and connected. but i realize now, we were simply losing ourselves. hiding away in a far off fun reality. one of excitement, wonder, adventure, lust, and love..mostly love. it was our outlet to be happy. it just hit me. those nights weren't real. they weren't the truth..

asking a question, for an unwanted answer.
knowingly known, understanding her.
the present realization, distant from the past.
come a long way, from a truth split last.
built up, supported in fame.
honest communication, a jokers game.
every ounce every breath, purposefully gave.
unpredicted, and independently brave.
a soft goodbye, not holding a kiss.
sadness came, the mark was missed.
a pair apart, not asked to join.
simply put, a one sided coin.

justified through lies deep in my eyes.

To all the broken glasses, I'm sorry.
To all the fractured bones, it wasn't intentional.
To all the times I didn't wake up early enough, my justification was never valid.
To al the days I've gone to work hungover, I thought I knew better.
To all the times I went days without showering, I guess I didn't care.
To all the times I spent money I didn't have, I always did it again.
To all the pages of books I never finished, I was afraid of committing.
To all the times I destroyed something beautiful, a childish love took over.

To my selfishness inside, I always said I was growing.

4,320 minutes.

It's scary how quickly life can change. It's interesting how it shows us it's true colors. Your struggles seem pathetic once you learn of others. How quickly it brings clarity through a lens not understood nor crafted. There's always hope. Those times when you are less important. It is no longer about you.

sometimes you just have to stop thinking and go with the flow for today is new, now is present and it's the only thing that matters. i will not be afraid of it.

you are my family

it's more than because you have to.. it's more about because I want you to. I wish it was so. it's actually better because it's not. you would because of how much you love me. all of you would. but at the root of it all, you never did. not even a little bit none of you did. all i ever wanted was for you to, and you didn't. i disregarded it, and you, each of you. casted it away.

the pasts faults, have become the presents contingencies.

is excitement measured on a 1 to 10 scale? or in weight via a centre beam balance scale ?

the smell of chlorine and cigarets, it's only thursday the calendar reads.

tomorrow will always be a new day.

i fall asleep happy but alone,

and i am loved.

i do not know if i am smiling.

pain: a sensation accompanied by the motor response to withdraw

A man stands in front of me with a cigarette in his hand. "I'm fearful of rejection" he tells me as a deep inhale exits his lungs. The cool evening provides us the comfort to be vulnerable as he begins to verbalize the realization he's gaining of his fears. "I am the only limiting force of Christ," he says, "and I must step outside my box." We are investing in each other because of our worth. Specifically placed as the dial of a thermostat, we are not a waste of time. But so strong as to break through the status quo. These are the first steps to personal freedom as defined by the understanding of pain.

does it mean anything different if a seashell says to a rock "you're the most beautiful rock on the beach" , or if a rock says to another rock "you're the most beautiful rock on the beach" ?

she asked me, "what happened in October 2011 that prompted you to begin this?"

It's things that take us back to the beginning that make us realize where we were. Where we once embellished a specific moment in time..it makes us think.
The start of it all, the push for new. For change. Recline in words spoken and told. Read through bitter inspiration of a past and present world so dramatically written about the audience can't even comprehend its original purpose.
For I for he. Me and them. the experience was worth the world. Strapped into the seat of a twisted turning terrifying roller coaster of a ride. I do not regret I continue to ride.
The beginning of it all was never the beginning, just another present moment we choose and are lucy enough to call the start. Never relinquish and try to wish. Hope can be heavier than the future and lighter than a dream.
Hopefully now.

**repost** because I needed to read it many times again

open your hand -- then close your hand

love me as if you were to experience the most amount of pain.
at your weakest of moments, love.
when the end has come will you love me like that.
the best of your person in terrible suffer
love me as you are feeling it then.
those are the emotions that are true.

then we will be able to understand,
and be happy for eternity.

this will not hold meaning without knowing the date and time this was written

..that one time when reality was more than the truth.
You blow out the candles and a ghost appears

"I'm like a foreign film..you need subtitles to understand me. But I'm also like a foreign film in that there's more to me than the subtitles."
-TJ

these chapters don't have titles.

We all have a story that we don't know how to write, or when and how it will end. All we can do is create one page at a time with the understanding that there is more to come that builds on the past. It's these future pages these present words are molding into poetic lines. Some chapters are harder to read, or are spent in long character development. But all in their right way moving forward to a discovered end. The closing of this book will not be by our own hands and we will smile by the grace of God.

life can only be lived forward but can only be understood backwards.