Though Maybe I...

I'm sick right now. Not so much physically, as mentally. Everything feels so wrong when the outside is already healed and the inside left raw. I'm just a tad crazy, I'll admit it. I think too many things for my own better judgement and hurt everything else and hide in every place even when there's no need. My right eye is bruised. Literary. When I look right or left I can feel the purple start to swell in pain, though the pain is just tiny, isn't that the same as the importance of a pinkie? The Japanese have a small little well-known myth sort of thing that your pinkie has an invisible red string attached to it, and at the other end is your soul mate. So what is the importance of a pinkie? What is the importance of a bruised eye? What is this, directions from your English teacher? On a piece of paper? Why am I thinking of school when it's spring break? I want to break something. Don't you ever feel like that? That story from five years ago. I still haven't written it yet. I keep renewing the beginnings. Did you know you can figure a persons personality by simply going through their trash? Am I simply a plagiarizer? Or a "Borrower"? I write my own things, however the ideas are always altered by something that does not belong to me. Am I really an individual? I'll just keep quiet and listen for now.

Though....

I still am unprepared to meet it. Though I can't see how I appear to others, I know that person is a fake. Impersonators really get through just to get accepted. I'm a hypocrite, but I can't help but hate that candy for the exact same thing I do. So how come so many people are behind me, but I'm all alone? I promised I would remember everything when I was smaller. But I've already forgotten. You could never understand that persons position in things, and ....perception. I still speak in forgotten code, hey, can you hear it? From that invisible door behind you? Someone you once knew is trying to bang out, but although you pity them, they are dangerous. You could never open all the pieces of the jigsaw puzzle. The final picture is too frightening. So you go on, creating pieces that don't even fit, but you hope they will in the future. Yet you know that's a lie. Everything you meet and are could be a lie.

Maybe...

The past will not repeat, I will have to stop that river with winter. I will block it with ice, and travel all the way over it to the other side. Though there's no such thing as greener on the other side, it will at least be a change. Will I leave that person behind, or become the same? Does it even matter? I have a mission to find the other one. I am constantly stepping front and back. Most are sideways. I love darker stories. They hold more truth, but that truth is made from a lie. So who are you? Answer me quickly, don't keep me there all day. Just to get the most basic frame of your lines. You'll never get to the middle, after-all. Salty water perhaps holds the answer, but it's undrinkable. My Fiction Nonfiction will not turn the knob until it disintegrates. Can you see it? You don't want to repeat this do you? Well, I'll tell you something. If you stay where you are, you'll be left behind. Very Violet Vapor. Studying something you can't understand the basics of. How fun. The best sarcasm is when you make in indistinguishable from normality, or so I thought. Will you play hide and seek with me?

I...

Ferris-Wheel Fluffout Waffle

Life is pretty boring lately. I mean it's a Ferris-wheel, just spinning and spinning....A little scary, a little fun, a little boring, and absolute throw-up material. Not that I've ever done that, FYI. I've always proudly managed to hold my lunch in the best of times. But whatever. That's just what's going on.

Even though I posted so many posts last month, I, not in a single one of them, did I actually talk at all like this. It was pretty much just composed of poems and a five-page story of a caterpillar. SORRY, all the poems must have screwed with your brain (maybe?, unless you love Shakespeare and read him day and night. You would have adjusted to that much hard to interpret stuff.). But GUESS WHAT! There's another one(poem). Yeah, that's right. But it's simple, so don't get stressed out. You don't have to read it if you don't want to though, I could never force you to do that(if I could though, I would *evil grin*). The poem is just about Waffles, something I like, like sushi.

This is just random, (what I live for, right?) but I keep wondering if I should have another page with some reviews of songs, music videos, or movies, or something? I think it would be fun, though it would be a bit exhausting(lazy). Maybe not though, maybe just refreshing. What do you think?


Waffle
by Whatomic(me)

Like a plaid design,
or a checkerboard maybe...
toppled strawberries or cherry filling,
towered so high you can't see.

I've found the perfect recipe,
it includes plenty of the Carbs, although...
to me all that strewed sauce
It just simply has to show!

My hunger haunts me in dreams,
I've woken up with drool, scary...
Maple, Syrup, Butter, Flavored!
And don't forget the scent of Berry!

A work of satisfying art,
tempts my paintbrush fork, again...
That whipped cream cloud taste
Can't be written with a pen!

*written to this song for some weird reason of no acquaintance: Miku Hatsune- Leave in Summer, Yet you're in my Fluffouts
* It also bears a resemblance to this song(don't kill me!): Miku Hatsune- Waffle

Waffles are good. I like to eat them with whipped cream and cherry pie filling(though I haven't been able to do that in years, Meh) .

Search For me in the Sky

*written to this song: Masayoshi Yamazaki- One more time, One more chance

Search for me in the Sky
by Whatomic

I could hear your voice
Over the noise and ashes.
A message from you
And you said
"Search for me in the sky."

The parallel buildings
Fell in flame from Hell
And took you with it
Yet you said
"Search for me in the Sky."

A phrase, a single message
Yet I couldn't find you
The sun was too bright
For me to open my eyes
And you fell.

A small hand now in mine
pulls me through time
And I still search
Still search
For you in the Sky

A tiny head once asked me
After tucking in
Where you were
And I smiled and said
"Search for him in the sky."

Now I'm being tucked into bed
by the small hand who grew,
And tears dropped onto my blanket
But I took my child's hand in mine,
and said,
"Search for me in the sky,
Search for me in the sky."