J-2-the-Rad

adrift am i on a dead calm sea tattered are my sails but with wit can i remain calm at sea inside a cageless jail mayhaps i think the sun is getting to me reddened my skin and i am desperate for drink my hope is slowly passing of rescuers unknowing where i am and how long ive been truly it is beginning to look grim and time would continue to pass and pass as it always does stagnant and boring and heartless and cruel and slightly terrifying the thought alone until the end and the end uncertain curse that high reaching sun it cast such a dark shadow on all it cannot touch yet wait what was that? a breeze perhaps? very slightly at first

I stood in front of the window today and saw a man staring back at me. I scowled at him, he scowled at me and all I could think was why. Why did he look at me disgusted by what he saw and judging me through but a thin pane of glass. Though he hadn't heard what I had said, could say, will say. I am more than just my looks, sir and I guess the same about you. But don't you judge me for what I've not done and I will try not to judge you. But he kept on scowling his brow furled his lips pressed tight and wrinkled nose. What could I say to him? To tell him that I am good, I am whole I am not the man he should be scowling at. But he just stares and

Their business is going digital. It was mandatory, for most digital corporations to install the workout program for their employees. Most of which were installed right at the worker's home, like mine. Some people had classy workout areas, dependent on their pay-grade, of course. Some really incredible designs have been made out of small areas in their homes. Or large ones. It was good though, I believe. Good that people were smart enough to realize that when you are plugged in, you lose valuable muscle mass and circulatory functionality. But it's like a dream when you are in there. Way more lucid though. And you don't forget it after loggin

A tiny thread was once with four but now is only one was thought to be the only one of which could overcome but this tiny thread does not yet see the many weaves and wants within so it stretches taut and plucks itself and sings its one note song

I tell you I am bad with words (or at least when they are spoken). Perhaps I need to write them down Least my meaning become broken. So I sit and think about the feelings That are shifting in my heart, And wonder how to put it down; Searching for a start. I guess the best way to begin (And tell me if I'm wrong), Is not to let it stew within And be tortured by it's song. It really does sing, you know, It sings a vicious tune. Like sirens of the older myths Or like howling at the moon. It moves up from my chest (Though it is not very subtle). It builds into a burning mess, And my brain begins to muddle. I find myself distrac

This time it wasn't my fault. I've swore never to repeat Excuse or openly reject my flaws, Yet somehow I have found myself Being pushed. Leaned on heavily Altering my center And falling from the tightrope. There was a net this time, thank god, But that fear stays. It twists my stomach and knots my heart. Ever present less I refrain from Inching so close to the edge next time. And it's funny, really, Thinking on it. What I got to see. Mere crackles From the fire Held in iron claws In a fading brick prison. It does seem weak now That I look closer. A snapping blue tongue That desperately saps The remaining life from the

Give it up for humanity Let us hear your words That spill like oil Thick and rich that burns and smokes Seeping through fingers, it pounds Drumming in your ears. Give it up for yourself Your heart of twine Wrapping and stretching and winding about Without end and without doubt And though it feels to taught to take It will everlast ever-so evenheartedly And you can find your one. Your only one. Yourself.

They say life is like a carousel that goes spinning round and round. But what kind of carousel will kick you to the ground? It has its up and downs, sure and you can choose which horse to ride; yet only spinning in one direction you cannot weave from side to side. I prefer the bumper cars, although I smash into the wall; bound by the limited space in a manic free-for-all. but life is not a carnival ride that can be paid for with a ticket. And all of you who like this metaphor, I can tell you where to stick it. ;P

"Back for the Lunar Festival, Dain?" "Emmairi... you.." Ser Dain's voice was monstrous, his shoulders hung low and his dark hair covered his eyes, leaving his tear-stained cheeks and teeth showing. "Oh come now, Dain," Emmairi's delivery seemed sincere, "You almost broke me when you screamed, 'show yourself'!" Emmairi laughed; everyone else was silent. Ser Dain, still catching his breath, frowned at the Shade. His hand throbbed as it bled. "Gods damn you, Em... You're going to take it too far one of these days. If it was any earlier in the day, I could have stabbed you." "Ha," Emmairi smirked, "You keep telling yourself that Warden, if it