A reason to believe

I have spent years going back and forth on the concept of religion.
With so many to choose from, how does one know for certain that their belief is truth?
There is a chance that we are all wrong, there is a chance that we simply turn to dust after our hearts have stopped beating; there is no after life; we are here and then one day we are not.
But what if there is? And how should we prepare for it?
These things I ponder in my sheets at night, when no one is around to listen to my thoughts... when I find myself alone inside my head.
A few days ago however I had a revelation, an epiphany some would call it.
This thought came into my mind at a time that I least expected it to; maybe it stemmed from desperation, or the cracks in my heart. Maybe it was God himself who sent it to me.
Either way, what I stumbled upon was something truly profound: a reason to believe.
Maybe I am not the first to find this out, but I found these reasonings myself, therefore I hold it sacred.

-
He rested his head on my lap as i ran my fingers through his hair. By now I have seen every freckel, every shadow of perfection and every wrinkle on his face.
We said nothing, but we were thinking the same thought. It hovered above us for hours that day, the simple understanding that what we had was gone, and that even together we were both alone.
We know the feeling of love, and what it was like to love one another so blindly... maybe that is why it was so hard to let go.
We were both afraid of falling, but there was nothing left to hold on too. With every hate filled word that exited our mouths and entered our souls we broke a little bit more inside, until one day, the peices were swept under the rug and made to collect follicles of dead skin and fibers in the air that no one really sees or cares about.
Yet it was in this defining moment, as i slid my fingers through his curls and felt the salty tears run down his face, that I found the evidence of Gods existance I had been searching so restlessly for.
Love.
The pure, wonderful and tangible notion of love, is enough for me to believe in a higher power.
Love is something metaphysical, something we cannot smell, or touch, or see. It is complex in every way, we do not choose who we "fall in love" with and who we do not.
But one day, when we least expect it, we meet a person that is different from every other person we have interacted with, and immense feelings overcome us, that we can not control, and can not explain, but we enjoy it nonetheless. Every single second of it.
Love is something mankind can not create, and certainly something no matter how hard we try, can not destroy.
It is not scientifically explainable, and holds no secret code we can write down and repeat, but we have all felt it at one point or another and know that it does in fact exist, with out a sliver of doubt we do believe in love.
Why do I hold this as proof that God exists?
Because I have to believe in something.
Because otherwise, everything I have done in this life, everything that you and I have worked for has been in vain.
I have to, in order to hold human life as sacred and important, believe that we were put on this earth for something else than to live and die.
Love my friends, is the proof that we are not alone.
Every good thing, every act of kindness, every shred of light in this dark world is all made possible because God has given us the single most wonderful thing in this entire world.
Love.
Though it strikes me as odd that I found this theory at a moment when love had collapsed in my life, when depression and heartbreak had overrun my thoughts and left me dead and alone, it helps to believe that maybe God knew I would find comfort in knowing he is with me.
That even through our darkest hours, we can find him.
We can know love.

The final "Good night"

This is the last Christmas.
A year from now she'll be'a settling
In the stomach of some wormy insect.
She'll be silent in the ground.
I think I'll wrap her up a boomerang...
This time next year it'll be coming back around.

I wonder how she'll go...
How all her beginnings will meet their end...
Will she simply shut her eyes with lids of snow?
Will she leave like my uncle
Screaming, clawing, trying to
Take me with her?
Will I have the heart to tell her no...?

If it be me that holds her hands in those final few,
It will be me that feels the slight breeze on my cheek
From her last exhale.
It will be me that watches her fleshy skin descend
From peach to pale.
If it be me, I can gaurantee, the inquisitive wretch I am,
I will bore myself in her eyes.
I will know exactly who she see's when
Her truths are compared to her lies.

So Merry Christmas!
MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!
One less gift under the fucking tree.

Understanding the metaphysical world

Metaphysics Link

- To understand life completely and wholly, one can look to a world beyond material reality.

Shades of Green

We were children once upon a time, running through valleys of purple flowers and bright blue skies
We were painters not so long ago and together we discovered the art of love
What we are now; what we have become is the result of emotional decisions, and the lack thereof
Grass stains are on my sheets tonight
I found comfort dreaming next to many shades of green.
Nothing could have kept us children, but as my innocence slipped through your fingers and fell to the earth,
I knew I was growing older.
I still find you in memories, the boy I knew rolled down a grass hill until his heart was still, so I buried his bones in my head.
Vibrance fades with every wash, but these blue eyes are wonderful to watch it happen through.
And one day, I too will become silent... and no one will keep my hollowed remains,
But I will tell our story in the sheets marked with  shades of green, and blood stains.

Trippy

There is an entire population of free living strands covering the surface of my head
They whip and snap and curl and fly away like I wish I could do
January 7th I abruptly left the plains of routine and the taste of the open air hasnt left my tongue
Wild air has not yet left my hair, and I covet the freedom of open roads ever more
The hands of the clock ran its fingers through my brunette feathers ;
Kept me sort of level so I would not catch flight
Kept me somewhat responsible so I could not fail my lovers
Kept me slightly sane for societies sake.

Nonetheless, I plucked the sun from its resting place
Squeezed the colors from it and let them trickle down my arm like concentrated river beds
I smeared my stained hands across the canvas in the sky
Then I lit a match; the colors caught aflame and I cried saying its name... beautiful.
Hot magenta soared downward, punching holes in the purpleish blue undertones
The source of life is not one shade of yellow, but many shades of the creative mind
After the ashes fell just beyond the earths face, I drove farther west into spontaneity.

I left some behind, holding question marks in their hands like torches and pitchforks
I cannot give them the answers they want, why I left that Wednesday so abruptly, so senselessly
What I know is there is adventure that lies awake inside me, waiting...
I cannot tame it, I cannot suppress it
But when it whispers my name I find myself answering, again and again.

Body of Man: Sex Organs

I am an influential leader.
A sinner of many saints, and yet I bring life into a darkening world every single day
I am accused of false love, and taken advantage of
The curves of my face are captivating but ever so tempting
feel the kiss of roses but be aware of the thorns
I end the lives of children and begin the lives of adults
I am proof that love and pain are real, that we are alive and that even the coldest are capable of feeling warm
The sudden release of butterflies is a gift from me to you
Theyre wings are beautiful as I have watched them soar around an empty stomach for a thousand years
There is a strong attachement to the strings of the heart, yet they grow brittle and bitter as they reach for the mind
I am a well kept secret to some, a treasure of life to others
I have but one desire and that is to love and be loved
The start of the human race begins with me, and i am not ashamed

Love Ballad of the Sun

The light of the sun crept into the darkness today
I captured its particles with the bat of my eyes, its auroral state finer than gold
let it flow through my body like the toxins in my prematurely aged veins
let it surge, let it fight the black wolves chewing my lungs
gold and silk waves of energy flow like the wheat fields in heaven

and I grab your hand, your feeling it too
I kiss the curves of your lips and you breathe in that fire
blue eyes turn to yellow, you are finally awake and inside of me
hot energy is what we are creating, enlightenment is what we found
Here flows the life of two humans, two mediocre's that captured a secret
A secret we molded in the likeness of the light resting on my face, and yours
it rises everytime we touch, sets when we are apart
I can see now, what I was missing
I can see now, the flicker in your eyes spark as we are kissing
You and me are but friction and flame
My toungue tingles playing with the halo from an angel
Heats up just saying your name.

But ten hours in and we are fading
The blue hue has slipped through the window once more
Now I will spiral into waves of lucid dreaming and the night seeps into the floor
But if in perilous visions I happen to see you again,
I will find a way, even in darkness, to touch your perfect hands.

World of a Writer

Of all the endevours my will be done the most important of all is the act of fun
I have watched shooting stars on many grass plains
I have ruined white shirts with chocolate stains
I have fallen in love and ignored warning signs
all this I have done for the sake of good times
But it is in the sound of music, and the rhythm of words, that I truly come alive
to no one but the paper I find myself obliged
The creation of a writer knows no boundaries , restrictions or holds

I have experienced freedom in its finest hour and it is here that I lose control
letting loose the restrictions of my hair and the entrapments of my feet
I fly across the sea of words and possibilities with nothing but an imagination and a heartbeat
There is power in composition, a beautiful oblivion it can be
with flames behind these eyes, an iris made by God for creativity
It is this silent expression that moves me more than any contender
A passion for rendition calls upon me now and to this I smile in surrender
To me this is bliss, to me this is life's complications coming undone
A thousand excerpts from this human soul and every time I search for them, I find a world of fun.

Body of Man: The Foot

I know not the look of beauty but i have discovered the depths of its existance
I have carried the weight of living souls everyday and have not ceased to turn the world, for I am an explorer of the unknown; a guide into the great abyss
Instruct me and I will climb the highest mountain
Instruct me and I will never leave the pedistool I rest upon
The  magnifigance of my capabilities are at the disposal of your will
I am waiting now, wake me and i will take you anywhere
There is a place where the sky meets the earth, and my friend that is not too far
I am but a servant without a voice, journeying into the shadows of mankind, a thousand miles with every day and still possesing no fear
Yesterday I stepped into dark waters, and today I bring the light of adventure.
Restless soul, it draws closer than you could have ever imagined.

Preface to: Body Of Man

The hands of god are cold as they hold me accountable
They have molded every morscel, every particle that is pure, evil, tame, dead and alive.
Just a part in the imagination of the greater force, a hundred years of poetry and mechanics poured into one body; and yet I am but a fraction in the human race.
Two veins diverge in this brain
The darkness of one often times overpowers the light of the other
Such a complexity of systems, ticking away..growing older and brittle with every rise and fall of the sun
Just a matter of science and I become a more fertile recipient of the world
Just a matter of time and I am forgotten.