My creativity thrives off of pain. So in a way, enjoying my art is a form a sadism

Failure is not all it's cracked up to be.

It's sanity I fear, because then I have something to lose.

Faded then Forgotten

His thoughts go to the past
a happy childhood
that didn't last

Love given freely now revoked
"It's ok. I'd hate me too"
He choked

Snapped back to the present
as his thought burn
sometimes there aren't happy endings
no lessons learned

To be faded then forgotten.
He hopes
His remembrance will be
Repressed then Rotten

As his life fades so does the pain
the panic of eternal rest
coursing through his veins

No more asking why
The question spoiled
The day hope died

And now his pain
Repressed then rotten
Eternity to be spent
Faded the forgotten

Drifting In and Out

People scream silently all the time.
If I look closely enough I can hear it...
or maybe it's just schizophrenia

A moment in Central Park

Upon approaching the park baseball diamonds I see an old man in a dingy, yellow shirt and worn jeans. A little league game is going on. The fence that runs parallel to first base reaches the end of the infield and then takes a 90 degree turn away from the field and runs for about 10 feeet and stops. The old man stands 20 feet from this small section of the fence and pitches. His form is awkward and clumsy. He falls to his knees as the ball arches slow and wide. It bounces off the fence and joins the old man on the ground. He stays on his knees as if to catch his breath and recover from the pain. He doesn't look around or show any sign of embarrassment as if he doesn't realize or doesn't care that people might have noticed. He gets up, walks over and grabs the ball. He then continues pitching. After a few throws he increases his distance from the fence. With his form still awkward and his pitches arching, he pitches for the whole 20 minutes I sit and watch. I don't see him fall again since the first pitch. He is still pitching when I leave. He seems to be improving.

Blah

When people find they have dug themselves into a hole, some keep digging and others try and find a way out. I tend to try and bury myself. Go figure.