I'm so tired of being sad.
I'm so bored with reading these sad little poems.
I'm so upset with myself because i keep writing them.
I NEVER wanted anyone to feel sorry for me, but it seems to me thats all i accomplish with my writing.

Life really is a stupendous ride full of ups and downs
But the thing is...
The easiest poem to write centers on either love or pain.
How often do you read something that's just HAPPY!

Today i got a badass new shwinn bike and i ripped it up in the parkin lot for HOURS like i was goddamn 12 again!
Tell me you're gonna think that guy's intellectual. Tell me, how many of you would write a poem about it?

See we're all puttin up these faces and costumes so we DON'T fit in.
It makes no fuckin sense to me.

When's the last time you road a bike around with nobody watchin you act like a looney-toon.
It's a fucking blast!
All u do is circles and some little jumps.
It's endless in both it's simplicity and room for improvement.
It's the god damn perfect medaphore for life and you can LIVE it instead of write about it.
Hills, Slopes, Vallies, Exciting falls and climbs that leave you drenched in persperation.

There ya go! That's plenty to write a poem about. It's more than enough to inspire someone.

Maybe i'm growing up or distant. I'm still an emotional wreck, but it no longer helps me to read about how horrible life is for someone else. It could be because mines fallen apart recently. It could be that all things Emo leave a bad taste in my mouth. (Seriously, that shit isn't music...) I just wanna give a kid dressed in black with a floppy bleached wad of hair hanging in their face a guitar and a blunt.

I know, i know, life DOES suck. I'm not arguing there. Believe me when i say i've seen enough to want to end it. There is however those few brief moments in life that make you want to press on.

There's a day down by the park when i got a bite on my fishing line JUST as my FAVORITE guitar riff in Weezer's Buddy Holliday reached it's crescendo.

The first time i kissed Nicki. Well the second time. First time was a little weird.

Finishing Franny and Zooey at work, while i sell morons DSL internet.

Reading my poetry in front of my friends at the coffeehouse.

Playing in the rain with my buddies girlfriend during a crappy show at The Good Neighbor.

Watching black and white silent films at the coffeehouse and making up my own dialogue in my head.

The look on Nicki's face when i told her she had no ass. I almost shit a brick.

The pride i felt when my Monk hit 75 on Final Fantasy XI.

The morning i am going to wake up with that girl that's caused me so much trouble in her pursuit. The smile, and the kiss. Knowing she was watching me as i slept. Just as i did when we layed down the night before.

There is no simpler a poem then one of pain or love. There is fear and there is lust, and both pull up next to the line.
Though, today we may sing songs of hurtful goodbye and passionate hellos. Perhaps one day we can write of simply being.

An inspiring but recently absent writer once left a comment on my work. I was ripping down everything in my life and saying some bull about how there's nothing worth having in the world. Though i still believe that to an extent, i have to paraphrase what she told me. It perhaps was more simple or more eloquent. Read some of her work and you'll guess the ladder.

There's so much to this world. There's so many little things. There's Hot Cocoa on cold nights, and drinks with friends. There's stars and clouds and time for the silver lining of both to be drank in for hours on end.

Ya know, at one time i argued with this lady and thought myself in the right. I just hope some day we'll meet, all of us.
Tool and a blunt for Jon and I
Whipped cream for Aunty.
And Hot Cocoa for Cre.


























And to Darkpoet: Thank you forever for letting me grow up on your website. Thank you for all your hard work for us, here. Though we may not know each other, you've given me and everyone here at DP a really increadable gift.

Merry Christma-juana-quanzica everyone.

Fixed it for you, aunty. :)

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