This is their end, and its just begun.

Step XLI
Somnia


The dreams that play
when you can’t wake
are master strokes and machinations.
The words you say
when the light fades
unconsciously captivating.

I held you close
to feel you breathe
the words you wrote
while caught in sleep.

The light
is breaks
and its breaking through.
That night,
it gave
but now its taking from you.

...and all the while, your eyes were closed,
I came to steal the words you wrote.
They dribbled down
out of your mouth,
but made no sound
when falling out.

I picked them up
and put them to
the music that I heard in you

Do i have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?

Step XL
Oneirology

John Mayer has dreams with a broken heart. I can't remember my dreams. I wake up every day(being able to sleep again is wonderful) in a slight daze, often with a bad taste in my mouth that I believe I got from someone bleeding in dream land. I'm a little afraid of dreams, thinking maybe one day I won't remember being awake. I can't imagine its that uncommon of a fear.
I fear everything is the antidote.
I am afraid that everyone I know is becoming the same person.
Tranquility is the nicest dream I can think of.

trying to find truth in words, in rhymes, in notes, in all the things I wish I’d wrote

Step XXXIX
Literacy

I had an assignment for my writing class that I found rather inspiring. We needed to think of 10 metaphors for our writing.

I started out very basic.

My writing is a canvas.

I then got a little more introspective.

My writing is...
a bridge.
a wounded messenger pigeon.
like a song with no beat.
a piano that is out of tune.
a hermit crab desperately trying to escape its shell.
a little ray of sunshine.
the last light on in the attic.
a Temple.
a workhorse.
a bubble in my veins.
an hourglass riddled with cracks.
a finely woven tapestry fraying at the edges.
a miniature replica of a colossus.
a scale where I weigh all of my thoughts.

a quality that arouses emotions (especially pity or sorrow)

Step XXXVIII Poignancy


I still can only think about
all the ways I've been wronged.
Your tiny little mouth and sick little heart can't hope to ease my doubts.
So I'm left wondering how to start, to speak, to even breathe.
There is an hourglass in my heart
but the sand never looks quite right
because the creases and cracks in the glass aren't sealed that tight
and when the fractures explode
I'll be choking where I'm standing
my veins turned to stone
my chest turned to pieces
inside out, exposing all my secret places.
Now, resting where my lungs once called home,
a few stray thoughts that escaped my head,
reveling in their new found freedom,
lapsing in idyllic peace
until that grave wight of reality
discovers their displacement
and responds with a resounding decision.
It condemns and consigns them to nothingness.

I'm so artsy and poetic and sad and whatnot.

Step XXXVII
Disorentation

My fingertips are feeling numb
Its been hours since I've seen the clock.
I stand up to try to dust my eyes off
Safe in bed she feels the battle has been won.

So where are you tonight?
Are you dreaming? Are you still awake?
So where are you tonight?
What have you got left to take?

all this blood has turned to sand
Its been years since I've felt so alarmed
Its been a lifetime since we fell so hard
We all all lost the will to stand.

It seems so easy to blame my perception.

Step XXXVI
Fidelity

Sleep is just a dream and I am not waking.
I've been counting enough to make an eternity stretch out in to nothing.

Lips which press together stifle rhythmic heavy breathes

Step XXXV
Adulation

Maybe if I could see my idols from where I am standing, I wouldn't have to act so appalled.

There are five thousand words in the mile between my head and my heart.

Step XXXIV
Assuredness

Sometimes nothing comes when I need it.
On the flip side, sometimes I'm assaulted by too much to even hope to explain it or relate it to someone else. As soon as I realize I'm caught in a situation like this, I just shut down. I just stop trying to be anything to anyone. I justify this by saying that you can't let someone down if they don't expect anything of you.

There are five thousand words in the mile between my head and my heart.

Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

Step XXXIII
Exhaustion

It is a pretty common state or feeling. Drained, expired, etc.
I try to remain cordial in my dealings with those around me, but I can't, in good faith, keep slamming my head against the proverbial wall.

I really don't give a fuck that you don't like me. I can sleep at night(kind of) because I like me.

Every time you spout off your meaningless bullshit, I would take it to the heart.

Well fuck you. You are a shitty friend and I'm over it.

I look at the world, and I know it sits turning.

Step XXXII
Ambivelence

The angels with open hands and closing eyes,
they tell me far too often that I won't die.
The scion breaks away.
The father remains the same.
They burned away his dreams right when
they answered all my questions.

When I dream
I won't remember anything.
When I finally lay my head down to sleep
I'll refuse everything behind and ahead of me.
Who am I to say whats worth remembering.

Modest, far, and out of touch.

Step XXXI
Breathing

I breathe easy most days, regardless of what I am confronting. Though I don't sleep much, I rest peacefully knowing that nothing is permanent. Some times, the seemingly ethereal quality of time being spent can cast a shadow across what is to come, but I find that I mostly feel otherwise.

Every time the day breaks, it leaves the misspent hours in the dust. It is only accepting of new ventures and uncertain dreams.

If you find a shadow cast in front of you, try walking towards the sunrise.

No longer will we wait for you answers.

Step XXX
Eventuality

You can't run from who you were, just like you will never catch up to who you will be.

I've been walking one way to get back to her.

Step XXIX
Contrast

I feel like my soapbox has been abandoned. Re-initiating shortly.

One for every soul still sitting on the fence between pain and arrogance

Step XXVIII
Nothing


What is there to say that hasn't been said countless times before?

The eternal expectations that pour from the void between thoughts and words could easily drown you and pull you under.
The only thing that could keep you afloat is love. For yourself, for anyone or everyone.
It is sickeningly easy to be jaded and bitter.
When your best intentions fall short, make sure you have someone to pick you up.
And make sure that, when someone needs a lift from you, you are there to lend a hand.

You can't ever care too much.

Step XXVII
Choleric

Sometimes I feel like my veins are on the verge of exploded with such violence that they could shatter any scapegoats presented.

Just like sunny days that we igore because...

Step XXVI
Nostalgia


My memories are a jumbled mess. I can't ever make any sense of my past. I simultaneously exist in where I am and where I've been. Its almost like a state of transcendence. Time gets thin and stretches out past the boundaries I can perceive. So much of who you were determines who you are. Its easy to get caught up in what you are trying to be. No one can escape who they are though.

Everyone Is Watching So Keep Your Composure.

Step XXV
Perception

The image that one projects is very important to some. Others that I know seem casually unconcerned, or blissfully ignorant, of how people view them. I know, beauty is only skin deep. Not just the physicality of it. The impression you leave people with. I'm very concerned with what others think of me, and I think I am only damaging myself by placing so much value in what others think of me. Obviously, you shouldn't disregard the opinions of people who you respect and know care about you.
I just wonder how liberating is to feel that way.
It seems rather uplifting, knowing no one can bring you down.
Ah. A pun.
I don't think I can let go that easily, but I'm certainly going to try to calm down.

...because there is beauty in the breakdown.

Step XXIV
Aspirations

My cage may be small, but you can be assured that my dreams are not.
One day they will lift me up beyond the clouds,
and I will forget what it means to be human.

Me and you. You and me.

Step XXIII
Relating

All my friends have faded
into the horizon.
They all took
a trip together.
I was too busy crying.
Seems I wasn't invited.
Everyone needs someone.
So who needs me?

My friends have left me jaded,
with nothing left to say.
Seems its not
anyone's fault.
I was too busy lying.
I was too busy hiding.
Everyone has a moment.
So where is mine?

The sun sets.

Infinity, negativity, and everything after.

Step XXII
Autonomy

Everyone has those few people they truly care for. The people that mean the world to you. I've forgotten who mine are, for the most part. I need to find some.

Its funny how the people who bitch the most usually have the least threatening problems. You can scream and cry and rage and blame but none of that will ever get you any closer to a place where you would be happy. Quit being so small minded and selfish.
Your range and scope must broaden if you ever hope to get out alive.

In other news, proof of the human soul has yet to be verified, despite the best attempts of man. Surely our constant efforts will soon be rewarded.

And in the End, I lie awake and Dream of making my Escape.

Step XXI
Winter

I'm drowning everything I see. Something has to change.
I feel ...cloudy, foggy, like nothing is quite clear.
Maybe its just another bout of my ever-invading despondency.
Hopefully some euphoria is around the corner.
Or I'm not long for this at all.

Ticking away the moments that make up a dull day.

Step XX
Momentum

Days seem to tick by, like the second hand on a clock.
I'm not sure if I'm ready for the rest of my life to begin, but I'm going to face it head on, regardless.

I'm starting to Believe the Ocean is just like You.

Step XIX
Sincerity

Who I am is who I am, but it is not necessarily who I want to be.

Honesty is important. Obviously, you can never be completely honest one hundred percent of the time. However, honesty is essential to sincerity.

I think that for anything to be valuable or real, it must be sincere. I can understand or empathize or feel the need for anything, as long as it is something honestly meaningful to someone.

So much of our live are fake. Total utter bullshit, to be frank.
Be sincere, show people your true colors. Tap in to who you really are, and make that person who you really want to be.


There are no excuses that can explain your unwillingness to be.

Pretensiousness In Stereo

Step XVIII
My Reflections

Whatever happened to the way you spoke?
Whatever happened to your demons and your fears?
So seem to me so brash and full of hope.
Even though these musings always fall on deaf ears.

speak none, hear none, see none, breath none.
I see quite clearly what you have become.

Resting peacefuly, in listless eyes.
trying to buy back all your wasted time.

I've found some auditory editing that you can't effect.
and some introspective embolisms caught in your chest.

Later on, the setting sun
will find a new way home
while I can't wait, to get a taste
of my new found, new-spilled blood.

Sometimes I worry that I've lost the plot.

Step XVII
No Comment.

I'm not to dead to laugh.
I'm not to proud to cry.
Lately I just can't find the reasons why.
I could fall, so I'll pretend to fly.
Echoes now calling in the words gone by.
I just wait, I don't have the time.
All the people I pretend to find
can't really play
but I'll never say
that this is all I've got.

Those Who Tell the Truth Shall Live Forever.

Step XVI
Aurality

I heard there was a secret chord that David played and it pleased the Lord. But you don't really care for music, do you? Well it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth. The baffled composing hallelujah...

I was think about communication again. More so, I was thinking about music. A friend of mine recently taught me the basics of music theory. It is really cool to be able to communicate like that.

But I think that the primal essence of it lies in the unspoken messages in the sounds. Just the sound alone, can move you beyond anything the prettiest words could hope for.

Instrumentality is kind of akward.

Step XV
Humanity

I don't know how many of you have seen the Japanese animated series entitled Neon Genesis Evangelion, but I was discussing it recently, and I found a veritable torrent of thoughts pouring out of my head.

I think on the whole, it is about communication. The exchange between each other. How a simple human creature can relate to something else.

I used to have this rather contrived belief, or rather, I professed to having this contrived belief, that humanity shared a single consciousness. I feel like refining that.

I don't believe that we have any sort of "mind-meld" or "hive mind". It is like there is a single pervading connection throughout everyone. If we don't share this flow of life or energy or what have you, then I think there is no way we could relate to such complicated creatures as humans.

If we didn't have any kind of underlying, primal connection, then we would be adrift in a sea of bleak thoughts and dark tomorrows.

That communication, the exchange, that spark you feel when someone can grasp what you are attempting to say. I think that is the beauty of being human.

We'll just pretend that no one knows

Step XIV
Nonsense

She walked in through the rain, and we both left any sense of decency at the door. There was a lot of misunderstanding, and plenty of shady intentions that night. As the dingy lights went out, so did the fire behind her eyes. Four hours later, a broken man walked away from a cheap motel that was fighting desperately to be reduced to ashes. The rain tried its hardest. It was a laughable attempt.

I don't often remember my dreams. Lately, I have been, and I think they would disturb me if I thought it was possible to be disturbed by your own subconscious. A lot of violence, to say the least.

The new year was brought in an almost blaze of glory. A good time to be sure, but kind of a let down at the same time. Looming re-incarceration dampens my spirit slightly.

I wanted to keep up with this on a daily basis, but I just didn't make the time to. I would really like to, if I can bring myself to do so. I'm not sure if I can always pick something meaningful out of my head. It sure does not seem as if I am able to at the moment.

Well, keep one finger on the pulse, and another on the trigger. Matches have either already given up, or are jumping at the chance to be struck.