Individual Reality

We are blindfolded, limited by human understanding, yet somehow expected to choose what’s right. Well, what’s right? A thousand religions point a thousand different ways, and nobody has prood of anything because we’re here and the dead are there.
I see a soul in every face, a light emanating from the human presence. People are individual realities, separate entities of vision and thought, networked together to create a society. People are endless, and magic, and broken, and devastating, and beautiful. People are more than a physical feature. People are deeper, a link to another dimension, a layer of life beneath this physical crust, but we can’t see through the film of this dimension. Our bodies are shells, encasing universes inside. The world is full of millions, billions of eyes and brains, perspectives — endless perspectives and lives spanning centuries, each with their own world, taking everyone else for granted. And even realizing this, we can’t stop. We can’t stop taking each other for granted.
We are all so alone and so closely pressed together. We are isolated by our own mental and emotional inhibition.
People are inexplicably real. Their suffering is real, their souls are real, so how can you not care?
We spend all day looking at each other but still can’t realize we exist. I cannot put this into adequate words. There is something missing, some barrier between us and the rest of reality. A wall of apathy. I don’t know what it is. I don’t know why it’s there.



We see a broken world
Of dead eyes and false smiles
Every hero, every villain
Become the same at night
As they cry themselves to sleep

And don’t try to tell me
That the cries of agony
Drifting down to us from hell
Will lessen as we get older

What kind of world
Would silence the cry of a human being
Because they don’t have a penis
Dangling between their legs?

What kind of society
Tells a girl to drown her flaws in makeup
But then turns in disgust
As she carves herself away?

What kind of God
Breathes life into a human
Only to toss them into flames?

No matter what any religion tells me
There is no song in heaven beautiful enough
To drown out the screams of hell

Face of Boe

So I wrote this sonnet about Captain Jack Harkness for an English assignment and I quite like it. How can you go wrong with a poem about Doctor Who anyway? Well here you go.

I have what most men only dream to have,
Striving to achieve what they must not own.
Like petty fangirls, they obsess and crave,
Desire carved into human hearts of stone.
Where is the Doctor? He’s avoiding me
And doesn’t see how I need him to try.
The last Lord of Time, oh, doesn’t he see
When I am alone, how I long to cry?
Back then, she brought me, from death, back to life.
What lies in the darkness beyond this light?
She has spared me from fear of any knife
And I know the answer to man’s endless plight.
But I alone live as all others die,
So no one is there to watch as I cry.


Statements Kept Inside My Head

I’d keep you in my arms and never let go.

I’d do anything at all to keep you from crying.
I’d give myself up to give you one more chance.

I’d do whatever it took to get you to listen, but you won’t.

Come over here, and lay down with me, if it would help you.

If you hated me, I’d jump off the edge of the planet to spare you from my existence.

I’d wipe your tears away with my hands.

Don’t push me away.

Why are you doing this?

You’re ruining yourself.

How do I stop you?



Tell me what to do.

Please, oh, please, darling, I’ll do it.

Want me to stay?

I’ll stay forever.

Want me to leave?

I’ll never come back.

I’d die for you.

Heck, I’d even eat a vegetable for you.

I’d eat a whole artichoke if it would help you.

That’s saying a lot.

Darling, baby, what’s wrong?

Can’t you tell me?

Did someone hurt you?

I’ll smack them all the way to Gallifrey.

Don’t cry.

Don’t be sad.

Whatever you do, you can come running back to me.

I’ll hold your hand through every nightmare.

I’ll stop the bullets with my own heart.

I’ll carry your burdens on my own back.

I’ll listen to every word you say.

I’ll give you advice if you need it.

I’ll keep silent if you’re fed up with words.

I’ll pick you up and carry you away.

We’ll run away, far away, wherever you’d like.

Just tell me.

I’ve told you, but you don’t believe me, my darling.

Can I tell you again?

Oh, darling. Oh, baby.

I love you.




I know very well
How I’ve been changing
There’s nothing you could tell me
I haven’t noticed yet

This is a time
When I should be smacking
Away temptations
Like a baseball player at the bat

My friends are ready
When it comes their turn
But when it’s mine, right now
I’ve dropped the bat

The world is spinning
Like it always does
But mine is spinning
Faster every day

I used to think
Way, way too much
And that got me depressed
See, that’s something I often get

I’m sick of depression
And thinking too much
To be honest, reality
Is a sad, sad thing

So I took my perspective
And turned it around
I’ve made myself into someone
I used to envy every day

I hate to take the world for granted
I used to ward it off
But it’s something you have to do, sometimes
To avoid becoming sad

I’ve become a lot less awkward
And I have a lot less hair
But I’ve become a lot less thoughtful
I’m becoming what I’ve always feared

I have more confidence
And more self-esteem
I understand other people so much more
Than I ever did before

I used to be so different
Brilliant, quiet, and lonely
Didn’t know how to become someone
Everyone would like

And now I know how to charm
And I know how to talk
And I know how to be warm
And I know how to be fake

I always swore I’d never be like them
The ones who live like there’s no tomorrow
But now I’m just like them
Almost living like there’s no tomorrow

The only difference is that
I remember what it was like
To be different, and to tell you the truth…
I don’t know whether to miss it or not.

Unrequited Love

Its when you can’t get someone out of your head even if you want to. When everything you see and do reminds you of that person. When you doze off in class just to think about them. When you doodle pictures of their various facial features in your notebook during class.
It’s also very creepy, unrequited love. It makes you feel like a stalker. Finding pictures of them and being unable to tear your eyes away. Looking at their picture in your yearbook so often that you have the page number memorized… But you’ll never admit it. Maybe not even to yourself.
And you remember everywhere you’ve seen them around. You memorize everywhere they hang out and smile when you pass by, even when they’re not there.
It’s almost like having an imaginary lover. You make up all sorts of fantasies in your head, and a whole network of of secret thoughts. You even dream about them. And yet none of it’s real. They don’t love you back. And because of that, you always feel guilty, just a tad bit, when you think about them. Like you’re mentally raping their mere existence.
You fall in love with their personality. You fall in love with their peculiar habits and reactions and quirks. You fall in love with the way they talk and the way they act and the way they look and the way they move and every day, you learn something new about them, and every day, you just fall deeper in love with them.
But they don’t love you.
And you start to hate yourself. When you look at them, their appearance grates at your heart like sandpaper. You start to hate yourself for thinking about them all the time, and you hate yourself because you can’t get over them. You hate yourself because you’re a coward and you can’t confess your love, even if something good might come of it.
You hate yourself because of how you feel when they don’t talk to you. Even when you know it means nothing.
You tear your hair out wondering what they think of you. You torture yourself thinking maybe they hate you, maybe they don’t care about you, maybe you creep them out, maybe they’ve noticed how obsessed with them you are.
But there’s always that tiny glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, they love you too.
And perhaps that’s the worst thing of all.