What does the individual mean to the world, to you?

Tell me, what does the individual

Mean to the individual,

Can you tell me that?

I remember a man

Who used to walk around his neighborhood,

Smoking a pipe,

Carrying two loaded guns with extra clips

And lips that never move,

This man hated himself,

Was full of anger and rage,

Gained pleasure by making others bleed

Piercing into their flesh, WHY?

Because he liked the sound that it made,

Because it turned him on,

It turned him on

To hear people screaming for their lives,

Because in some ways it was better than sex,

It was the emotions he saw

Pouring out of people that he was addicted to,

He liked seeing emotions he couldn’t feel,

After some time

Seeing those emotions was no longer enough,

He had to feel those emotions,

Experience them for himself,

He wanted to feel happy,

Fear death,

To love,

But most importantly he wanted to be loved,

So he set out on a mission

To become another person,

To become that


Socially accepted

Liked person,

He started by changing his reputation,

He no longer wanted to be the man all feared,

He stopped

His evil ways


His criminal actions,


Smoking his pipe


Carrying his guns

And stopped

Stabbing into people’s flesh,


He pierced into their minds

With his intellect

And into their hearts

With his kind actions

And newly found giving nature

He acted like he cared

He started to care


To fell sympathy


To feel compassion

Learned to love,

He started

To feel alive,

This man who could not wait to die

Started to feel alive

Started to fear death

Because he knew if he died

He would not be able

To feel these wonderful emotions

He started to be happy

And now all he wanted

Was to be loved by someone special,

But there stood the brick wall,

Because no one special came,

Sure he met some amazing girls,

But none loved him back,

He drove 90mph into a brick wall,

And he started to hurt,

He exposed himself inside out,

Only to get punched in the face

Stabbed in the guts

And kicked in the nuts

But no pain can equal that of a heart

Exploding from the inside,

He knew it would be hard to change,

As nice as he was now,

Everyone still saw him as

A criminal,

The weird guy,

One crazy bastard,

Then that man thought to himself,

It’s fucked up,

But now he knew he would have to become

The man he once was again,

He had to

Give the people what they want,

He had to

Go back to

Smoking his pipe

Go back to

Carrying his guns

Go back to

Being angry

Ready to kill at any moment,

Because that’s what he was trained for,

And tragically,

He had to once again be unhappy

Waiting for death

But you know what’s the most fucked up part of this story?


Asking you

What do I mean to the world?

What do I mean to you?

What do I mean to myself?


This is a short story about, no wait, a collection of poems about things that have happened in my past with references to my upbringing and how that has, I’m drunk, and still is shaping my character. I don’t really expect much of this to be understood because I don’t understand it myself. I as a person am looking for meaning, or better yet a reason to live. And if I don’t find that meaning I expect to die. But as I go through this search for meaning I have been altered as a person and I wonder if that has altered the minds around me.


The blind man told the Devil to shut the fuck up,

The Devil told the blind man,

“Hey look at that!”

It’s amazing how easily you can piss someone off,

All you have to do is poke at their flaws

The Devil decided to fuck with the blind man some more,

He said to the blind man,

“Hey watch me do this!”

The blind man said

He wished he could stab the Devil in the face,

The Devil said,

“Hey weren’t you watching?

I already did”

Now what kind of man

Would stab himself in the face?

I’ll tell you,

One who has nothing to lose.


I started my new year’s eve as always, drunk! I woke at 5:30am and ate a hearty breakfast of steak and eggs with a nice tall mug of vodka and orange juice. I was feeling pretty good. By 12:00 pm I was prancing in a liquor-ish heaven. Hey! I was feeling pretty good. An hour later I showered and got dressed. By 7:00pm I was at a party sitting by myself watching my friends dancing, laughing and enjoying themselves. I was jealous. At 10:15pm I stepped outside to do a little smoking. I know, I know, it’s a bad habit. But hey, what you going to do, you know. I took off the wrapper and as I started smoking my first cigarette I thought about, well, I thought about myself actually. See, about a few years back I decided to become a better person and although I have friends now I feel as if I’ve made little progress. Actually I’ve made a lot of progress but I was just missing something. At 11:55pm my friend came out and brought me a bottle of wine, just in time because I was on my last cigarette. He told me to hurry up so I could join them in the countdown. I told him I’d be there eventually. Before I went inside I noticed that my car was parked across the street. That’s funny, I don’t remember driving here.


I am the physical frame of embodied pain

Stained with shame same guilty pleasures

Two waters in a rain

I came to this world as a saint

But visible paint

Brought me less faith

And even more hate

They view me as a pagan

When they ritually feed on each other

In respect to Satan

Tell me, what should I name them?

Come on! Even cruel cannibals have limitations

Patience has become a forgotten virtue

Aggravations with this nation

Give me reasons to hurt you

As new thoughts burn through

A dying carcass

But should you care if I die

If you consider me heartless

When I confess I once made ends

By crossing names off a list

Balling fist and shattering hopes,

I’m no pope!

I’ve made many mistakes

As this world is filled with dopes

With the old ropes I tied myself a noose

I’d hang myself for this world

But what would be the use

Abuse is self-induced

By those who want to be amused

Laughing at themselves

Blood fills a mind bruised

Infused with scared emotions

And lost devoting drifting off in oceans

I ease the burn with lotions

Drown the pain with potions

Motions cause impulses

We forget to smell the roses


I sat and pondered about things

Events, memories

Repressed urges


Sparks without voltage

I thought of time and beginnings

Ends of nothing

Nothing becoming a child

A child becoming a monster


I thought of innocence…


God said I was innocent

After I kicked him in the ass

And told him he’s not real

I was innocent

When I stabbed that man

And didn’t feel guilty about it

He was innocent

Before I stabbed him

But now he’s dead

He can never be innocent again

A dog is innocent

When he licks his own balls

He’s just trying to clean himself up

As a child

I had a wonderful upbringing

Full of self-induced intoxications

Backed by heightened levels of beatings

Conditioned to believe

That murder is a good thing

Then when I was six

I found out

You could go to jail for killing

Rambo and those other TV shows were a lie

And then I lost my innocents

My belief of what was

True and Pure


But would solidify

With new perceptions of purity

And would evaporate

And would solidify

Drinking’s not good for you

But it’s ok when you’re 21

Watching people have sex

Is a NO-NO

Until you’re 18

Because then

You can watch your porn flick

And have a cigarette with it

But now

You can’t kiss all the girls

Like you did in kindergarten


It’s bullshit!

The way we kill for a dollar

It’s bullshit!

The way we make sweet things turn sour

It’s bullshit!

The way we trade our souls in for guns

It’s bullshit!

Load the nine, cock, squeeze and run

It’s bullshit!

The flower can’t grow a single bud

It’s bullshit!

We rather grow weed than grow love

It’s bullshit!

We rather waste money on the waste

It’s bullshit!

Media creates hunger with a taste

It’s bullshit!

The way some live without a cause

It’s bullshit!

To think we won when we really lost

It’s bullshit!

When the shining lights go out

It’s bullshit!

When no food reaches a starving mouth

It’s bullshit!

We rather kick off wars than save nature

It’s bullshit!

When you spread the love and everyone hates you

It’s bullshit!

When all of this only scratches the surface

It’s bullshit!

To think that you’ve already heard this

Your deaf and don’t know

That that is what your curse is


Blind caused blindness

Deaf stole people’s ears

Slowness retarded life

Fright gave man fears

Crazy caused craziness

Lazy caused laziness

Then failure

Turned man’s dreams into tears


Just put on a happy face!




Blow things up,

Play with chemicals,

Burn things,

Start fires,


You gotta do-






Come on,

Let’s go on a,

Explosive expedition,

And say,

That hell has risen,

But I don’t want to be the messenger!

Hey, how about you,

Bang your head against the wall,

Beat yourself with bats,

Prick yourself with needles,


Why not?


Burn cars,

Sever a limb,



Fire looks cool,

Just bleed yourself dude,


Come on destroy,

Come on,

You know you want to,





Just put on a happy face!

Just put on a happy face!


I met someone. Someone that could possible rid me of all this darkness that is built up inside me. There’s not much I can say except that, I can’t get this smile off my face.


She said she was a dork in her first year of high school

And I liked her because of that

Because she was herself,

Because she was real,

All my life

I have been plagued by darkness

By storms of violence

Raining blood and tears

Thundering events that

Still rumble through time

And lightning

That still strikes me

But worst of all

I have been plagued

By crazy women

Who dare not love,

Or appreciate me

Women who have literally

Stabbed me in the back

And made attempts on my life

I always had this vision

Of what I thought

Would be the perfect woman

She would have these eyes

That every time you looked into

Would seem like

The most beautiful paradise in the world

She would have this smile

That would

Remind you of a sunrise

She would have this spirit

That was so alive and lovely

That it would remind me of an angel

She would be my vision of heaven

She would be my heaven

And for me

Life without heaven is hell

And for years now

I’ve been in hell

Scared that heaven may never exist

But then I realized

She sat across from me

In the same room

And I see that she is



My dear…

Maybe everything gets annoying now,

Maybe I’m saying too much

I think I found my heaven,

I think I’ve found happiness


I knew it was too good to be true. She said that she wanted to get into my head, and into my heart. Why did she say that if she was going to walk away? It’s fucked up when you have to watch all your happiness pick up and leave. I feel more confused and empty than ever before. Even my writing is lacking. I care less and all I want to do is smoke my pipe. I wonder what God is doing.


God like to wear a Devil suit

And every now and then

God likes to make fun of blind people

God likes to laugh

God also likes to kick me in the ass

Slap me

When I’m not looking

Trip me

When I’m running

God likes the way I fall on my face

God also loves to tease me

Throw things in front of me

And say,

“You can’t have this!”

Making me want it even more

Stomping feet

God calls me Mr. Grumpy pants

God like to laugh at me

At least I can make God happy


As the smoke rises

Life is blocked out

Light falters

The shadows awaken

Existence yields

It thinks…

If you are blood,

Can you bleed?

If you are a tear,

Can you cry?

If you are a book,

Can you read?

If you are dead,

Can you die?


Yes you can!

You see

Everyone is blood

Everyone is,


Created from someone

Someone before them,

Blood of blood,

Blood to blood,

Bad blood, good blood,

All blood bleeds,


Is what blood does…

And in the mist

Of the clouded atmosphere

Leaked wine

From a flesh container

The wine,

Wants to run away

And the container,

Wants it to,

Wants it to,

Enjoy the darkness


Who am I?

The individual,

The reject of society,

The unemotional killer,

Torturer of those with emotion

The one they can’t see as normal

Or am I

The lunatic

Mr. Multi-persona

The three characters

Boxing in my head


To gain control over the others

Or am I

The bitter human being

Pissed off because

He can’t find a love of his own

The guy angry with God

Blaming God for everything

Tired of existence

Tired of not existing

Who am I?

I don’t know,

I don’t know,

I don’t know…

At the end of this voyage a man saw in himself the darkness that existed and within that darkness lived a hidden obsession to be loved. That obsession which will live with him to the end of his days sadly may never be fulfilled. And that man realizes that. He will live on only to suffer for a passion he feels is worth the torture of an eternity.


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