Intelligence

I am struck by my limited amount of intelligence, my copious amounts of stupidity that threatens to topple my sense of reality and life. This is compounded by the fact that I need to appear rational and orderly. All these run counter to my ideals of controlled chaos and whimsicality.

The image of the fellow using the rake leaves that sour taste in my mouth. The recent events have my seams stretched beyond the maximum, and it is but a matter of time. Yet my semblance of normality bluffs everyone. I am apparently human.

But for how long?

Stumped

A perceptive pupil asked me if I was happy with my life. I had no answer for him.

Soul wrench

I need to retain my soul in the stuff that I do...

Safe and Sound

When will the day when I can close my eyes and lay my head on the ground?
When will be the day when I can sleep safe and sound
When every breath is a fight, a struggle, ragged and bound
When every cry is a strangled yelp, helpless, sorrowful and down.

That Shadow of the Corner

It's that lonely, cold corner that beckons me, that in its coldness bespeak much of its warmth. This is the oxymoron at its best, that in the gregariousness, the loneliness is at its peak. I detest company, much as I am constantly in the presence of them. I am the Blue inviolate, and when pressure forms, the instinct is to shut them all down, such that you hear...nothing. Have I lost my English sense? Have I lost the weapon? Hemmed in at all sides, I want to break down, but I will take up my arms once again. Fury is my strength, as much as apathy is my shield. The cause is mine alone. I am the Blue Rebel.

Dominance

It is time. For renewal. For a rejuvenated fight. To face the monsters of life. This is a fight to the finish. I must take up the fight again. Submission is not permitted. Control must be ascertained. Transmission out.

Never Been

I have never been much of a man, and some parts of me wanted to be protected. Part of me wants love, part of me wants seclusion. A big part of me feels that I am too ugly to face the world, that all I want to do is hide under the monk's cowl. Emotions assail me. What happens when you are not rich, not good looking, not fit, and all you want is the shroud of darkness to hide whatever offends you, or to embarrassed to show the world.