Quite recently, I’ve come to the thinking that the that people we come across play an important role at every point in our lives. It’s not an easy concept to explain, but I come to believe that we meet people for a reason, that at the point in time that we meet them, they play a role in whom we are then and who we could become later on. I know loads of people would disagree with this, but consider that even while watching a movie, an extra just walking by could have a top, shirt or pair of shoes that we like so much that we rush out and get ourselves something of the sort thereby influencing our fashion.
Now the reason I mention this is cause of one my greatest inspirations, my best enemy. I've despised this guy for so long I can't remember a time I didn’t want to just kick his arse just for the sake of it. I've never really liked anything about this guy and when I found out that he wrote too, it only pushed me to write better. We've been competitors ever since, striving to better each other. I've stolen his work several times and I know he's wanted to kill me so many times for this it makes me smile. But then I read his works and it inspires me to better myself and I come to realize that I've grown as a writer not just cause of the encouragement of friends and admirers but the desire to top this arse. He's been a source of strength, inspiration, a thorn in my side and while I'll never admit this to him, I am the writer I am today because of him.
Thinking about this I've come to appreciate everyone I've ever come in contact with, the ex's that broke my heart, the friends that took advantage of me, the lost, people that have hurt me, despised me or tired to bring me down, because they have pushed me to excel and defined me in ways I can only come to appreciate now. They've inspired some of my best works. They've kept me in ideas and reasons to succeed and for this I thank them.
Now I'm not saying hey, go find everyone that ever hurt you and give them a pat on the back for it, but the realization that they have not taken but added to who you are is truly empowering. Everyone has a lesson to teach you, if you are willing to learn. Everyone has a role to play in your life, no matter how minute and how inconsequential it may seem at the time. Even the bully, if you are willing to see it can inspire you, take Beethoven for example, if his father had not bullied him to music, the world would be less some beautiful music. History has spoken of many great artists that have been tormented by oppressive figures who they have found a way to overcome and have somehow influenced who they became.
Now while I do not condone the acts of the hurtful, I appreciate their place in my life. I've learnt to be wiser, more loving, cautious and stronger in part due to these fine detractors of mine. In short, I would not be the man I am now, if not for them. So it dawns me that everyone I have ever met has added to who I am, everyone! They have molded me in some fashion sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse, but they have inspired something in me, added to me. And so I realize that I have a lot to be thankful for, from this influence of others and the influence I, myself have on them. That as I am hurt, I will, in my fashion, hurt others, maybe inspiring and strengthening them.
So to my best enemy, the man who has constantly pushed me, I say a big thank you for being you and for always being there. The arse and bastard that you are, an enemy worthy of envy, despised, admired and in some sick fashion, loved.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Guilty Pleasures
I was once a tasteful pleasure
A desire there, when needed
A friend on call
An ear for troubles undergone
A shoulder that was constantly sought.
A fall from grace
And suddenly things change
The devils horns I have been adorned
I am tired of being the one who brings out the worst in you
Who makes you feel bad for doing the things you do
I’m tired of making you feel guilty for coming to me when in need
Even though you know I strive to be there for you
I’m tired of being the one who has to understand you are a child
And still have a lot of growing up to do
I’m tired of being seen as overbearing
Just because you feel I care too much
I’m tired of being the one who has to lift you up and see you as a saint
I’m tired of having to bear all your unfounded insecurities
And your skewed view of crime and punishment
I’m tired of having to understand your selfish ways and needs
I’m tired of having to show you the good in you, when you refuse to see
I’m tired of having to be the saint and adult, the sin and the sinner
I’m tired of how your problems overwhelm you, so that nothing else seems to matter
I’m tired of your nonchalant words, spoken in vile disrespect
While explaining what I feel and see, isn’t what is
I’m tired of hearing about your insecurities, knowing they are childish and vain
And the fact that you refuse to open your heart and mind moves me to pity
And how you complain about needing to learn how to love
When you refuse to see all the love around you, showered on you
I am tired of seeing all you could be, while you stay blind to it
I’m tired of being your crutch, while you refuse to acknowledge I might need one as well
I’m tired of your standards and how you refuse to bend
Of how you willing give the best of yourself to others
But I get the short end of the stick
I’m tired of you getting upset that I feel this way
When your actions tell the score
Of you making everything about you
While I am constantly denied
I’m tired of being your guilty pleasure
And for feeling bad that I want more.
And so this guilty pleasure promises to be sweet no more
And with vile intent, to act he part that you have written
To find the door and seal it shut
So you needn't find a way in any more
To access this guilty pleasure
That you never really needed.
A desire there, when needed
A friend on call
An ear for troubles undergone
A shoulder that was constantly sought.
A fall from grace
And suddenly things change
The devils horns I have been adorned
I am tired of being the one who brings out the worst in you
Who makes you feel bad for doing the things you do
I’m tired of making you feel guilty for coming to me when in need
Even though you know I strive to be there for you
I’m tired of being the one who has to understand you are a child
And still have a lot of growing up to do
I’m tired of being seen as overbearing
Just because you feel I care too much
I’m tired of being the one who has to lift you up and see you as a saint
I’m tired of having to bear all your unfounded insecurities
And your skewed view of crime and punishment
I’m tired of having to understand your selfish ways and needs
I’m tired of having to show you the good in you, when you refuse to see
I’m tired of having to be the saint and adult, the sin and the sinner
I’m tired of how your problems overwhelm you, so that nothing else seems to matter
I’m tired of your nonchalant words, spoken in vile disrespect
While explaining what I feel and see, isn’t what is
I’m tired of hearing about your insecurities, knowing they are childish and vain
And the fact that you refuse to open your heart and mind moves me to pity
And how you complain about needing to learn how to love
When you refuse to see all the love around you, showered on you
I am tired of seeing all you could be, while you stay blind to it
I’m tired of being your crutch, while you refuse to acknowledge I might need one as well
I’m tired of your standards and how you refuse to bend
Of how you willing give the best of yourself to others
But I get the short end of the stick
I’m tired of you getting upset that I feel this way
When your actions tell the score
Of you making everything about you
While I am constantly denied
I’m tired of being your guilty pleasure
And for feeling bad that I want more.
And so this guilty pleasure promises to be sweet no more
And with vile intent, to act he part that you have written
To find the door and seal it shut
So you needn't find a way in any more
To access this guilty pleasure
That you never really needed.
Friday, March 5, 2010
Words
When poets fall in love
Words become arrows aimed for the heart
Verses become scented roses and boxes of chocolates
Letters become diamond rings and expensive gifts
Their voices become like opium and intoxicating wine
Blinding their prey to whatever reality that may
But when they are vexed
Words become daggers aimed at the soul
Verses become skilled assassins of character
Their voices utter an army of harmful intent
With immortally damaging blows to the object of their wrath
They become as deadly as women scorned
Ten times so, if a she be the vexed composer
And yet our greatest deeds are best related in sonnets and prose
And our stories best told by he who holds our imagination
Such that our history is written not by men of action
But by he who would sing the tales of their deeds
Those who would remember us in whatever light they may
And thus mold our history to whatever machinations they may fancy
Fair warning then friends
Vex not the master of words
Least he be asked to pen your tale
We are only as great as those that would tell our stories
Words become arrows aimed for the heart
Verses become scented roses and boxes of chocolates
Letters become diamond rings and expensive gifts
Their voices become like opium and intoxicating wine
Blinding their prey to whatever reality that may
But when they are vexed
Words become daggers aimed at the soul
Verses become skilled assassins of character
Their voices utter an army of harmful intent
With immortally damaging blows to the object of their wrath
They become as deadly as women scorned
Ten times so, if a she be the vexed composer
And yet our greatest deeds are best related in sonnets and prose
And our stories best told by he who holds our imagination
Such that our history is written not by men of action
But by he who would sing the tales of their deeds
Those who would remember us in whatever light they may
And thus mold our history to whatever machinations they may fancy
Fair warning then friends
Vex not the master of words
Least he be asked to pen your tale
We are only as great as those that would tell our stories
Friday, February 19, 2010
Inspire Me
Brand me a thief, label me your liar
Burn me with the vilest names that your heart desire
Scream songs of my faults till the heavens burn heavy and noir
Sting me with the insults left for murders and traitors
With the darkest emotions I rear inside of you
Preach door to door of every vile deed bearing my name on cue
Instilling in the heavens the craving to reject my soul
Rain down every curse your soul can bear in whole
On my character, person and on my soul
Yet I’m still standing, I’m still here
And at your darkest, when your heart is heavy and your soul is broken and no one can hear
When you’re at your lowest time of need
You find me, knowing you can always depend on me to help you breathe
That I’ll always be there, your constant tower of solace
The drug you can take to help you focus
Knowing whatever life you live and breathe
You will always suffer me
As my burning effect, good or bad, will always be there in your life
Burn me with the vilest names that your heart desire
Scream songs of my faults till the heavens burn heavy and noir
Sting me with the insults left for murders and traitors
With the darkest emotions I rear inside of you
Preach door to door of every vile deed bearing my name on cue
Instilling in the heavens the craving to reject my soul
Rain down every curse your soul can bear in whole
On my character, person and on my soul
Yet I’m still standing, I’m still here
And at your darkest, when your heart is heavy and your soul is broken and no one can hear
When you’re at your lowest time of need
You find me, knowing you can always depend on me to help you breathe
That I’ll always be there, your constant tower of solace
The drug you can take to help you focus
Knowing whatever life you live and breathe
You will always suffer me
As my burning effect, good or bad, will always be there in your life
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Silly Nonesense
Here, the thoughts that go on swimming in my head
Of how I won’t get to heaven when I am dead
Stuck down here with these drugs instead
With all the hate that I’ve been fed
From all of the girls I did not wed
And there they wonder why I pop these pills
It’s just for the way they make me feel
While yet keeping me functional still
3 days and running with no sleep
Living simply on coffee and self medication
With no need for food to fuel my condition
Watching my grades get better without fault
So now I’m convinced there’s no reason to halt
As the drugs keep me focused on the things I ought
Helping me to forget the things I am not
Unlike people, who always find me short
They keep me numb and carefree
While I lose everyone that meant everything to me
Why is it geniuses always end up empty?
Of how I won’t get to heaven when I am dead
Stuck down here with these drugs instead
With all the hate that I’ve been fed
From all of the girls I did not wed
And there they wonder why I pop these pills
It’s just for the way they make me feel
While yet keeping me functional still
3 days and running with no sleep
Living simply on coffee and self medication
With no need for food to fuel my condition
Watching my grades get better without fault
So now I’m convinced there’s no reason to halt
As the drugs keep me focused on the things I ought
Helping me to forget the things I am not
Unlike people, who always find me short
They keep me numb and carefree
While I lose everyone that meant everything to me
Why is it geniuses always end up empty?
Ramblings: One more lie
I stand here labled a liar and a thief
Whose only profession is to spread misery and grief
As such I promise to be swift
If you'll indulge me this one more lie I need to steal
A lie to make you understand how I truly feel
A lie that would finally explain me
A lie to set you free
So forgive me this lie, the next and the one after
While you watch me lie my heart away
Some how hoping you find peace in the words I say
As I tell you I’ll be alright and there’s no need to worry
That I need you to understand that all I want is for you to be happy
And that it doesn’t matter who you’re happy with
That my love is unconditional to my last breath
It doesn’t matter if it’s not returned
That all my hopes and dreams have not been forever burnt
That this heart you’re walking on now, can never be broken
That I’m stronger than you think, even when you're the one walking
That I’ll love hearing from you
And I don't really need to know you're okay to make it through
It won’t kill me inside every moment you with him
And that you didn’t have me walking with the dead, when you told me that you loved him
That I’ll move on and let go of you
Never hoping that you’d come back running to
That I won’t wake up constantly in a cold sweat, lost and confused
Possessed by dreams filled with you
That I won’t spend days not wanting to get out of bed
Wishing every sort of illness on myself in my head
That I won’t spend time listening to outdated love songs
Imaging singing them to you all day long
Reminiscing of the times you moaned my name
I won’t remind you of what we had nor what once was cupids aim
Of how every time you asked, I came back to you
And even when I faltered my heart stayed true
I won’t be pretending when you call that all is well
I would never be caught holding back tears nor exposing you to my living hell
I am a man, I need these lies
But I share them to you to make it easy for you
So walk away my love, to the man you love
I won’t be wishing he were me
Whose only profession is to spread misery and grief
As such I promise to be swift
If you'll indulge me this one more lie I need to steal
A lie to make you understand how I truly feel
A lie that would finally explain me
A lie to set you free
So forgive me this lie, the next and the one after
While you watch me lie my heart away
Some how hoping you find peace in the words I say
As I tell you I’ll be alright and there’s no need to worry
That I need you to understand that all I want is for you to be happy
And that it doesn’t matter who you’re happy with
That my love is unconditional to my last breath
It doesn’t matter if it’s not returned
That all my hopes and dreams have not been forever burnt
That this heart you’re walking on now, can never be broken
That I’m stronger than you think, even when you're the one walking
That I’ll love hearing from you
And I don't really need to know you're okay to make it through
It won’t kill me inside every moment you with him
And that you didn’t have me walking with the dead, when you told me that you loved him
That I’ll move on and let go of you
Never hoping that you’d come back running to
That I won’t wake up constantly in a cold sweat, lost and confused
Possessed by dreams filled with you
That I won’t spend days not wanting to get out of bed
Wishing every sort of illness on myself in my head
That I won’t spend time listening to outdated love songs
Imaging singing them to you all day long
Reminiscing of the times you moaned my name
I won’t remind you of what we had nor what once was cupids aim
Of how every time you asked, I came back to you
And even when I faltered my heart stayed true
I won’t be pretending when you call that all is well
I would never be caught holding back tears nor exposing you to my living hell
I am a man, I need these lies
But I share them to you to make it easy for you
So walk away my love, to the man you love
I won’t be wishing he were me
Sunday, January 31, 2010
All the things I've been
Been the husband, the friend, the lover,
yet I’ve never worn a ring
been the brother, the father and crutch
yet I never had kids
been the giver, the provider and priest
wonder why I never learnt to receive
been the hero, the villain, the godsend
yet the devil bears all his marks on me
been the artist, the channel, the saint
yet salvation lies far from reach
been your strength, your weakness, your fix
yet I never understood the power within me
been the sinner, the sin, the temptation
seems forbidden is all I was meant to be
been the devil, the victim, the curse
all the talent that lies within me
been your everything, your love, your meaning
yet in the end I always mean nothing
been the present, the past, the forgotten
yet the future I never seem to be
the beginning and the end
the final page I always see
the path of Dante I forever seek
till the wings of Icarus come to save me
yet I’ve never worn a ring
been the brother, the father and crutch
yet I never had kids
been the giver, the provider and priest
wonder why I never learnt to receive
been the hero, the villain, the godsend
yet the devil bears all his marks on me
been the artist, the channel, the saint
yet salvation lies far from reach
been your strength, your weakness, your fix
yet I never understood the power within me
been the sinner, the sin, the temptation
seems forbidden is all I was meant to be
been the devil, the victim, the curse
all the talent that lies within me
been your everything, your love, your meaning
yet in the end I always mean nothing
been the present, the past, the forgotten
yet the future I never seem to be
the beginning and the end
the final page I always see
the path of Dante I forever seek
till the wings of Icarus come to save me
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