December 17 2004.


Ode To Lonliness:
Sitting alone in a room so dark it creates the optical illusion of a neverending area of space. I find solace here. A place to withdraw from the turmoil that comes along with being human, and having emotions and feelings to deal with. Sometimes I wish I could simply withdraw so deep into myself that I'd implode and there would be nothing left of me except the memory of the ghost that once resided in this shell I call a body. This room. This room I call mine. With it's brightly colored posters, pictures, and stickers. When the lights are on, the room comes alive. It seems to take on a character of its own. But when the lights are off these wall accessories can't be seen, and the room becomes as empty and lifeless as I am. Maybe the aformentioned is the reason why I can find such peace of mind here. The room represents me as a whole. The posters take on the role of the facade I show on a daily basis. But just as you can still see parts of the white walls, my facade is broken and full of gaps also. Then, when the lights are off, the darkness takes on the role of the void which is ever-present within me.

The subtle stench of foul nectar
emits from a withered rose
And the only question that comes to mind
"Is there anything to live for?"
Then I catch a glimpse of him
from the corner of my eye
And a tiny bit of hope returns
as my tears run dry
But this hope soon fades
when I look back at the withered rose
And realize he was just a hallucination,
manifested through poetry and prose