Borne from boredom and reflection

Ruminations on Giving Up Hope

Each Day passes away
as I pass away.
A cycle of sleeping and waking:
always sleeping and never resting,
relentlessly shaken from sleep
never fully awakened.
Even the wraith of me fades.
What a hardy shade!
It dwindles to a lone atom,
ever dying yet not to be extinguished.

a snapshot of a fragment of where i am right now

i find myself totally inadequate for writing about the big things. i am afraid to write about things that i know are common to all humanity, like the problem of suffering and justice. the problem of a good and merciful God and a shitty world where everyone suffers and nobody is able to and/or nobody cares enough to do anything about it. i find myself struggling to bestow wisdom when i am totally unwise. that's really it i think. i want to fix it, or to make it palatable, but i can produce nothing without cliche. it seems wise to say there are no answers sometimes, but now i think that's just a prideful way of saying that i have no answers.

Rough Draft... Michael Thinks its too Melodramatic

I Know Your Head Aches

Scream, cry, prick yourself and moan...
You'll never get home...
now lick your wounds.
... always alone, you'll never get home.

Off on a shadowed island unattached and bound
ever on and into nothing.
You are nothing where you are
your self and alone.
You, the cause, are not the solution.
You, the lonely, are not a home.
So flee on, and as fleeing
descend into void.