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January 2012 Post #1.5

Welcome back.
Not to the blog.
But to the realm of brilliance.
Uncontested brilliance.

My mind is revving,
Similar to that of a car’s engine.
The clutch has engaged,
And I’m off.

On behalf of everyone I might fuck over,
Welcome to 100%.
Where I’m better than everyone.
And nobody will stop me.

I can do unimaginable things.
I can do things that even I thought were impossible.
I can revolutionize the world.
I can make things work.

My way.

Or.

The highway.

Congratulations World,
You’ve unleashed something upon yourself.
A brilliant work of life,
Pulled off medication, free to roam.

A being that, in statistical theory,
Is smarter than anyone.
Ever.
Congratulations, the world is mine.

I can develop things never imagined before.
I can change to world for the better,
Or:
To fit me.

Shift up,
Power shift.
Hungry for power.
Always hungry.

Game over.
The world is what I make it.
How I mold it.
Or how I fold it.

Welcome to 100%.
No, I won’t take your order, bitch.

December 2011 Post #1

I cried tears of happiness tonight.
For the  first time in as long as I can remember.
Because I feel like a human again.
I’m finally allowed to feel emotions again.

Not just emotions that the world sees,
Where it’s strictly love and hate.
But emotions that nobody really knows I feel,
Such as happiness.

People have treated me like a chew toy forever,
Where when they need an emotional pick-me-up,
The come over, and take me out of the toy basket,
Get their share of attention, and then leave me.

But you know, nobody has ever spent time,
Putting me back in the toy basket.
I’m like that toy that gets used so much,
I just get permanently left out to play.

Almost as though I’m forgotten.

A lot of times,
I’m known for few things.
Generally,
Being that fat, heartless bastard, living a meaningless existence.

But for once,
I feel human.
Like I mean something.
Even if only to one person.

You’ll probably never be more than a close friend,
But that’s just fine by me.
Without you in my life, just the way you are,
I’d be suffering even more.

If things change,
They do.
But I’d be okay with them,
Just how they are.

You were able to show me,
That I’m better than this,
Better than everything I’ve dealt with,
For as long as I can remember.

That I deserve to be able to walk with pride and dignity,
That I deserve to be trusted,
That I deserve to be heard,
And that I deserve to be loved.

That I’m actually brilliant,
I just don’t show it well enough.
That I’m not as arrogant as I could be,
Or in all rights, should be.

That I’m not a failure at life,
I just haven’t learned some lessons yet.
That I’m really better than I think,
And I don’t deserve this.

You got me to see that I don’t deserve the hell the world has put me through,
Because I’m human.
Because I have emotions.
Because I am real.

Because all I want,
Is to be loved.
Like everyone else
On this planet.

You see me as human.
Nobody else has.
My soul has been shattered,
But to you, it doesn’t matter.

I still have a soul,
And that’s good enough for you.

Thank you, for always being there.

 

 

November 2011 Post #10

If only you all knew the real me.

The sweet, kind, caring person,
That exists,
Deep inside,
Of this person I show the world.

I may come across as an asshole.
But  I’m really not.
If only
You knew the real me.

The person that doesn’t want to die.
The person that wants to be loved.
The person that wants to have a family.
The person that doesn’t always want power.

I’m intelligent, yes.
I’m even out of this world intelligent.
I’m even power crazed.
But it’s not what I want most from life.

Honestly, in the end,
I just want a wife,
And a family, that loves me.
I want that more than anything.

But with the kind of person I’ve been,
I don’t know if I’ll end up with that.
I’ve been told I will,
And I like to believe that.

But when I get told,
That I’m going to be forever alone,
By the one person on this world,
Who’s supposed to care about me.

It hurts,
It makes me shell up,
And not show people the real me.
The person I can be.

Every time I’ve shown someone,
The real me,
The sweet, kind, and sensitive me,
I get hurt.

By someone.
Maybe my family.
Maybe my friends.
Sometime, by everyone.

People don’t consider,
What can change,
When they piss off,
The wrong person.

That person who does have intelligence.
That person who is power crazed.
That person who wants to show their good side,
But gets forced to show their bad.

Unfortunately,
I’ve been forced to do my worst.
I hate doing it,
But I always win.

I…don’t want to do my worst.
I’ve seen what it does to people.
I’ve seen how much damage it causes,
And how much it hurts others.

But in the end,
I’ll fight for myself,
And the one I love.
Nobody else.

I wish the world could know the real me,
The person who doesn’t want to hurt a soul.
The person who wishes he could lead with integrity,
The person who wants to love someone, more than I love myself.

I was capable of that.
But that was a long time ago.
The world will never know,
What I could have been.

I’m trying to get better.
The people that care about me,
See sparks of hope,
From time to time.

But those sparks quickly extinguish,
Because of memories of what happens,
When the sparks catch fire,
And I love people.

But one spark got through,
And sparked the love,
Of a lifetime.
Something that I’ll never find anywhere else.

A spark got through,
And started a fire,
That I can never stop.
It has spread.

To every cell of my body,
To every part of my mind,
To every strand of my soul,
And every fiber of my being.

It sparked a fire,
Of love.
For one person.
And that person means everything to me.

Because they know the real me.
She knows that I’m not just a spark of kindness,
I’m a full fire of emotions,
Which I don’t show to anyone else.

I see the excitement in others,
When they see my emotional flint,
Make contact with my mental steel.
And they see sparks of hope.

I see the disappointment in their faces,
As they realize that the sparks are gone,
They are smothered, and they are gone.
For now.

If only people could see the real me,
The person who wants to find the good in everybody.
But I just can’t.
When I find good, it goes away.

Not by my choice, but by their choice.
Because I have to mention it.
I don’t know what they’re going through.
So I want them to hear every positive word I have.

Because I never know,
When I might have saved someone’s life.
I might have told them something they cling to.
Because the rest of the world, has told them it doesn’t exist.

Kind of like the world tells me
That my kindness doesn’t exist.
That my soul doesn’t exist.
And that my heart doesn’t exist.

Honestly,
It’s just easier to agree with them.
No point fighting it,
Because you get hurt anyway.

I hate being attached.
Because then people see a faint glimmer of hope.
That I might make something good of myself,
And not be evil to the world.

There’s a full-blown fire.
She doesn’t have hope anymore,
She knows that what I show others,
Isn’t who I really am.

She knows that what I show her,
Is the real me.
The person that can love,
With every last fiber of my being.

I believe she loves me,
I really do.
But I’ve been hurt so much,
I can’t see why it’s true.

It feels like the world is out to get me.
It probably is, right now.
I’ve done horrible things,
Because I didn’t know what else to do.

Eventually, the world’s thirst for revenge will subside.
Or so I hope.
I don’t think I’ve committed a sin,
That cannot be forgiven.

I sure hope not.
Maybe the world doesn’t hate me after all.
Or at least, maybe it will stop hating me.
And I’ll be able to show who I am.

I sure hope so.
She deserves to be able to have the whole world know.
That I’m better than what they thought I was,
And that she was right from day one.

Things will get better.
I hope.
I sure need it to.
For me, and her.

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

 

 

 

 

November 2011 Post #9

So, this is definitely a bit different of a post layout than what y’all are used to…but here you go. It’s something you can enjoy anyway.

There it is, shining brightly, in all its perfection. Not a single flaw can be found. It’s the only thing of perfection in this shabby house. However, because it’s the only thing of perfection, it’s also the subject of the ridicule, by all the visitors to his house.

The chandelier, in all its perfection, sits there, hanging. The owner of the house displays it like a gem—a diamond, if you will, that is more perfect than any other diamond in the world. The owner of the house takes pride in the chandelier. To him, it is the only thing in the world that is truly perfect. It’s the only thing in the world that makes him feel as though he has purpose.

His house is in need of repair because people treat his house like their own. They come in, trash the place, and wait for mother to clean up after them. The thing is, they come in so often, the house can never be cleaned. It’s impossible for the owner to keep everyone out long enough to clean up.

The people leave on their own terms. They never get pushed by the owner. He refuses to push people away, unless they do the one thing that the owner will never be able to forgive. They can’t try to take the chandelier. The second they make a move to the chandelier, the owner acts with deadly precision, quickly killing anyone who tries. He protects the chandelier.

But once, and only once, did someone get away with the chandelier. He got out the door. The owner quickly went for his gun, and went after the thief. The thief was able to evade capture. The chase went on, and it would go on forever, there was nothing the owner could do about it. Days, weeks, and months went on, and finally, the owner of the house was hot on the trail of the thief who had wronged him in an unforgiveable way.

But what the owner saw was a shocking sight to him. Not only did the thief have the perfect chandelier in one hand, he was picking up another lesser chandelier, which had so many flaws, it was entirely unbeknownst to the owner why the thief was going for a different one…especially when he had the flawless one in his hand.

The thief had no trouble picking up the other chandelier, and he dropped the perfect one. The owner of the house had watched this all unfold before his eyes. He watched his chandelier, which was perfect; get shattered in front of his eyes. The owner knew right then, that his chandelier would never be the same again.

The chandelier broke into so many pieces, that the owner wasn’t able to be of assistance, for he was in shock. He had to hope that someone could be so kind as to help him pick up the pieces.

The owner of the house went home, deep in depression and despair that nobody could ever possibly imagine. When he got home, he found a lot of people in his home, wondering what happened to his beautiful chandelier. The more people prodded, the closer the owner came to exploding. Eventually, he exploded, and he pushed everyone out of his house, and would kill anyone that came near it again.

The chandelier is now whole again. You can see the scars caused by being repaired, and you can see the fresh cuts when the chandelier is put under too much pressure. However, the owner of the house is still glad to have the chandelier home, and the owner of the house still believes that the chandelier is perfect, in every way shape and form.

Even though the house is in disrepair, the owner of the house still feels that the chandelier is the perfection that makes the rest of his house brighter. He feels that even though he’s lost everything else, things will get better, just because of a perfect chandelier.

All because of a chandelier.

November 2011 Post #8

I am like Hitler.
I am like Kennedy.
I am the world,
Yet I am one.

I have the power,
To end the world.
Not mine,
But yours.

I have the power,
To make the world prosper.
Not mine,
But yours.

I have the power,
To rule you all.
Every last one,
Of your souls.

I can rule,
With terror and evil.
I can rule,
With kindness and compassion.

What makes the man,
Can break the man.
How the man ends up,
Is based on his past life.

Not the life,
Before this earth.
But the life,
Before the power.

They’re two different worlds,
One of recognition.
One of solitude.
Both of loneliness.

Just because you are known,
Doesn’t mean you are loved.
Just because you are loved,
Doesn’t mean you are known.

The world is full of statements.
Both good,
And bad.
Yet, all have a purpose.

The statements I make,
Are generally good.
For me.
And bad for you.

Because I will rise up.
Not just with intellect.
But with charisma.
And other qualities.

However.
The way I take the world,
Once I reach power,
Depends all on you.

It depends on how you treat me.
If I am treated well,
The future may look good,
For all.

If I am mistreated,
Not only does it look bad,
But it looks bad,
For the world.

I will change the world.
How I change it is still unknown.
I may change it for the better,
Or quite possibly the worse.

Just remember,
What you do today,
May cause issues later.
The immediate effect,
Is the unknown.

You won’t know,
How you’ve changed me.
Until of course,
It’s too late.

I am charismatic.
I am intelligent.
I am successful.
And I am powerful.

I can change emotions,
I can read lying eyes,
I can feel the mood,
I can adjust the ideas.

So don’t hurt me now,
Because I’m on a power trip.
And when I rise up,
You don’t want to lose.

A man can only act on his past.
If his past his scarred,
He will act with revenge,
To those whom have wronged him.

If his past be free,
He will act with kindness,
And compassion,
To those that require.

But justice will be served,
You will get as deserved.
Both good,
And bad.

So don’t cause my past,
To be scarred.
Because justice,
Will be served.

The smallest thing,
Can change the world.
One person’s opinion,
Can alter the universe.

The world is mine,
For the taking.
I will not falter,
This power is mine.

This power has always been mine,
I just had to find it.

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