Red Jellybeans

I am annoyed. Nothing seems real and it's bugging me. I feel like anything that's happened is just part of some cleverly devised plan to get me to turn out a certain way in the end. All the sudden, everything seems fake and forced. My friends respond to me so they can get my approval, not so I can hear what they really have to say (which is what I really want to know). My parents talk to me as if I can do whatever I want in life, that they'll be happy with me no matter where I go. But I can feel their confusion when I start talking about how I might try new things, that maybe I don't know for sure. People praise me because they want me to feel good, not because I really deserve it. Nothing is real. There is no truth.

I am finding more and more that my refuge lies in the truth. And the truth is hard to come by. It's like picking out the all the red ones in a box of jellybeans... I'm glad I can score the little morsels, but each time I get a taste, I crave more of that flavor and spend that much more time searching for the same red-jellybean pleasure.

I guess I'm just afraid that if I lose my red jellybeans, I'll suffer from truth withdrawal and go completely crazy.

I AM going completely crazy. 

Sand In Their Toes

'Tis I 

Night owl, and dreamer extraordinaire. 

First I lie like I am 

Dead 

I cannot move or speak

For hours I lie motionless. 

But then my muscles start to 

Twitch

And itch 

I wake up, my inner

Clock broken. 

I know longer know which is 

Up and which is 

Down. 

My mind starts to wander 

Aimlessly, until it finds 

It's mark. 

A brewing pot of 

Bubbly, sticky, 

Gooey, mushy, jealous 

Mess. 

And I think on it

For awhile. 

My everyone else

Is getting sand in their toes while I 

Am getting sand in my ears

Oh, the torture! 

It pours out my mouth

Drying out my throat and

Sticking to my 

Soul. 

Instead of pouring me out, 

I fill up 

With more and more and more 

Sound that pounds and 

Courses through me. 

Until I am so full with 

Sand and sound

That I 

Burst

So I am everywhere now, 

Here and there

There and here

Wide awake.

Thinking of 

Stupid, minuscule moments

That should mean next to nothing. 

But, ah! 

It is the human condition. 

It is my condition.

(Untitled)

I just can't get it out of my head

What book was it?

The one with the boy,
The bully and the

Guardian angel...

She sprouts some wings

And takes off to the

High blue sky

To touch the clouds

With her pretty

Pinky 

Finger