steakandcheese416

Do not presume the future, because you cannot see it.   Don't live in the past because it has no purpose now.   Don't trace the paths of how you got here, they twist around too many questions and take your time to ponder, so don't waste yourself.   It is over.  You are now. Appreciate this fact alone, and appreciate who you have become. The present is the only thing that matters, it is the only thing that is tangible. Stay uncomfortable. Keep moving. Your only job is to maintain your happiness and motivation and make yourself better everyday.   As long as you do this, the future will form itself into greater things than any you

This is a different pain than any I've experienced. It wells up from the gut and it fills the chest with an empty void. The lungs stutter and struggle to fight against this demon annoyed. As it grasps the glottis and squeezes tight it pushes through the eyes. It injects the body with loneliness. It feeds on memories prized. It swallows those that were negative and the good ones are revised to include the painful rising of this choking demon's lies. It collects all your hope and your motivation to prescribe to yourself, a better being. It crushes them inside your heart to make sure you know it rides with every thought, with every image.

I enjoy observing beauty. I like to make sure it's nuances are appreciated. I wish for others to feel the joy it brings me. I dream of a time that the world will be seen by others in similar colour and clarity. I wish these images I interpret would pass along unbroken, but when I speak, I mince my values, and entangle this vista's fabric around my struggling soul. And I forgot that no one cares.   And I forgot that I do. And I forgot to consider what it was I believe, and now it's like I never knew. Because I designed the results. And I  subconsciously grew towards my underlying desires that my soul mistook for truths. And I did it in a

The middle road holds naught. That's its point. The path of least resistance is innately friction free. While we strive to break our stress's joints, we unknowingly hold our stress's being within our wants and needs. The life of beauty we can conceive is finite. Always and forever is it dying. Our need for it to flourish defines our soul's wanton flight; but our eyes for inner peace are crying. Our screams for ease seem truthful - but they're also lying. Our sight of beauty shows us the paths toward our own ends. And while we sink into oblivion, universally, we solely send requests for confirmation that the beauty we conceived will neve

Oh God, the design… the design through which we dream to meet the pinnacle of peaks. The valley floors stay lush and green while the mountainside exposes bone, The backwards lie of these echoed themes, brings the need, and the fear, to roam. The urge to climb exists, it seems for reasons yet unknown. The visions were had, the contenders seek their movement upward, towards the goal, faithfully faceless unto the peak. To arrive; some young, some old. All gasping for air in the final light, before all that remains of earth is flight. To make it there in life is to be one upon two roads. These paths of self and time: know neither

For misty chasings I find myself in flight. While her blocks against my pressures are the furthest from light, I'm troubled by the weight of wanting wisdom - and she holds it tight: dreams. I forgot about them.. But she says it's not about me. This fact I've understood forever it seems. But what I think, and what she thinks it means, developed isolated until we entered this particular dream. I hope that I can understand her. I hope one day she sees that all I want is to love her. I don't need much for me. I want our souls to intertwine - But I want hers to feel free - I want to share an eagerness to share the exploration of our dream

Education; whimsically directed, it is wonderful. University; though temporally tight, and pressurizing, it is alright. Bottlenecks; small, round, glass-like, converging restrictions, reducing and intensifying flow- they’re mechanical systems. Graduate programs; competitive.  Why? Resources: all those things you buy, A consumable here, to expand your mind, digging ever deeper, seeing ever highly from your other eye. Competition; I don’t like it.  I don’t care. Stackable rankings dictated by flair. In the contextual realm of admissions you’re stripped down, pried opened, bared. And you’ll realize, when your

Of course illuminati reign from high above the stage. How hard would it be for a handful of families, interrelated as it were anyway, to meet up and discuss how they have hands inside the pockets of everyone they own anyway, and many means of manipulation and control, and what else is there to look forward to these days, anyway? What else would they talk about? We all sit around on stormy nights talking about how we plan to take the stage and use what we have gained to better direct rage or, say, desire, to climb the ladder. But the problem with humanity is it will never ever see the final wrung. Our ability to project our ends puts a blin

The man arose, His interest peaked From a topic abounding about the streetcar. The topic was shared to all en route in amplitudes seemingly over estimated- even for the present grounds. Eyebrows arose all around, but for different reasons. Some were risen due to shock. The rest were peaked in interest. Some just stayed put and observed. Others furrowed deeper still into personal issues. The streetcar got a little warmer feeling In spite of the present climate. The man stood ready. He was captured by the topic, and his voice joined in the broadcast almost at a comparable volume. Their passion for the topic was clear to all. Their jovial n

My biggest fear, I have discerned since her presence has engulfed the entirety of my point of view; the total of my wealth- my biggest fears involve at times a sense of misalignment, and one of staggered health. The differences in the forces behind the speed at which we’ll melt into our prospective futures that we’ve seen, admired, chosen, desired, worked for, pined for, died for, felt; this difference could divide the ones who wish that they’d be dealt a feeling of duality becoming singularly held. But the alignment of these melt rates will most definitely be knelt upon a crux of varied pressures; a crux of varied health: