BeatDown

We are the weirdos The outcasts The quiet who scream within our walls We come to watch, to learn, 
and compose our own tunes to the rhythm of our hearts. We watch, we learn, We sit dumbfounded at the lives of men and the lies of them. In our befuddlement we are lost and then found. From within our silent mulls we arise the answers to their questions. Their solutions come to us because they are just too fast to hear the wind.
We stand. We balance on the balls of our feet and inhale greatness and exhale nervousness and our walls creak and cry at the weight of our souls until the cracks become too large and the cement bursts and our light spills out into the world as we breathe, we breathe, take that one final breath then scream.
Out loud this time. 
All the answers we have found and the questions that come with them are compiled into spontaneous prose which sometimes rhyme and sometimes doesn't, and its truth. and it is light. and it is also dark. it is the center of the two.

Discovered Diary

Found a couple of trashed pages that seem to be ripped out from a diary. I'm fascinated by the writer's love and fears. Here are my favorite excerpts:

Sep 12, 2012

"I love her so very much and she loves me.

I feel almost guilty that I am so happy and I fear something will happen, something that will take away my happiness.

I fear this so much that I almost feel inclined to pray. I pray, I hope with every single fiber in my heart that I do not lose anymore loved ones. My heart cannot handle anymore pain."


Sep 17, 2012

"What if I don't accomplish everything I have planned?"

Sep 9, 2012

"G and I have been fighting alot.

[..]

I get scared when things like this happen because I thought love is all you need and I fear that there might be an underlining problem. I wish Nov. came sooner."

Oct 2, 2012 1:52 PM

"I've been having panic attacks. I get so scared and anxious for no reason at all. I'm afraid of losing everyone I care about."

Nov 19, 2012

"I remember waking up to the sound of Ba grinding coffee. I remember he would always let us grind coffee beans for him.

[...]

I remember when Ba would shave Bab and I would make RAZORS out of legos. Ba would put shaving cream on our faces and let us "shave" with him."

April 29, 2013

"Much has happened since my last post . Feeling depressed again. Not going to have a drinking problem again, promise."

June 2, 2013

"I'm losing grip with reality. I feel like I don't know what's real or what's my mind playing tricks on me. I don't know who I am.

I cannot handle the stress."

Row

You're only 18 into the dream and already rushing to anchor yourself because you saw someone upstream do the same. The old man fishing at the mouth of the river laughs a caring laugh. He whispers pigeons into the wind for you. "Enjoy the rocking of the boat alone for some time, my friend. When it is time to share your vessel: Sift, Choose, Enjoy, and Repeat; savor the liberties that youth allows. The other half you should really be looking for is the answer to your favorite question."

Immortalize Yourself

I write because I want someone to hear me out but I won't allow anyone to try and understand me.
I write because the paper never gives me a blank stare and the pen always holds my hand.
I write because my epiphanies always come when I'm in silence and I'm too lonely to let them leave but I don't want to yell at them to stay.
I write because emotions are so volatile and I don't want to burn any bridges.
I write because the world spins around the sun 365 times in a year.
I write because gravity pulls me ever closer to my center.
I write because my third eye tingles and I see who I really can become.
I write because I'm scared of forgetting who I've been.
I write because I'm scared of you and scared of me.
I write because the wind loves an audience and someone should write down how it dances.

I write because I don't want to look back someday and forget you existed.

I write because my experiences are so far-fetched that reading them back makes them more believable.

I write because someday someone will relive my experiences.
I write because.
I write because.
I write because.
I write because a blank spot is the perfect place to fill in with useless words with imaginary meaning. Because my therapist doesn't exist beyond the 2D plane. Because when I'm through with fear and my doubt I want to have something interesting to laugh at. Because my chest hurts. Because my tears want something to smear. Because there is no water to drink here. Because I want to. Because it's what I'm good at. Because I can.

Why do you write?