i can't comprehend why some people can live their lives without making any spontaneous decisions. what's the point of having everything planned out? i made last minute plans to go camping with someone i've never met and even though the spot ended up being closed we still had fun! it's an amazing experience to meet new people - even in weird situations - and learn about someone else. i challenge whoever is reading this to try to make an impulsive decision today, big or small. try to change your daily life a little bit.

bring some new light in.

i fall in love. multiple times a day, every day, non-stop. i see the world through rose colored glasses and i close my eyes when the bad parts come. i was raised by trauma, loss, pain. nothing that love wants anything to do with. i don't know if i'm ever going to heal, but having a heart full of love makes everything seem a bit softer. i want to see the good in the world, in the people around me, in everything. i know it's naive to think this way, to be such a romantic that i'm not quite there. waking up to the sun hiding behind the mountains, to the crisp spring air, a few birds chirping, the noise of traffic flowing underneath it all, makes me feel part of something.

i believe, or at least i want to believe, that if i love the world enough, it will love me back.

i constantly feel this sense of contentment. what is the point of being upset? i cry about all of the struggles our civilization endures, and i do my best to help. but i don't see any reason to remain bitter, to see the world as this self proclaimed hell. in the end, we can only control ourselves. i'm trying to just live as the earth wants me to.

i'm in love with this planet, the universe that created me, all of the souls and minds that exist. my childlike sense of wonder can be seen as a mistake, just another way to get hurt, but it's so much easier to love when everything is as fascinating as if seeing it for the first time.

my heart is heavy, but i want it to be weighed down by love, nothing else.

-Very, very rough draft but I need opinions before I continue-

The definition of cheat is to ‘act dishonestly or unfairly in order to gain an advantage, especially in a game or examination.’ And that hasn’t changed. My name is Julian, and I am a Cheater. I’m not the only one, either. Although I’m not exactly sure how many there are, we form an elite network. We each help each other out; whether that means in school, work, or just life in general. Since the beginning of today, I’ve already assisted nine different people, and it’s been a slow morning. Even though most of our community is online, there’s a way to spot each other outside of our screens. Each Cheater receives a small pin after the board reviews and accepts them. The pin is about the size of a penny, and comes in gold, silver, or bronze; depending on how much the board trusts you. It’s modeled after crossed fingers, which, in our case, symbolizes lying.

I've been sitting in this frigid, dark room for three years now. Thanks to my 'persuasion' skills, I have convinced the guards to bring me paper and a pencil. I figure that if I should tell my story at all, it should be now.

On March 4, 2016, I was framed. Whoever did it had done it well. There was no existing proof that I did not kill Janet Doe. Ironic name, I know. Of course it was just my luck that I was found in the back yard of Ex-Chancellor Brigg's mansion, holding a bloody knife with a body laying less than five feet away from me. I was invited to his celebration of his retirement; and I admit, I had gotten a bit...tipsy. Now, even that wasn't my fault. My dear friend Simone had come along with me; knowing that I was a tad shy around higher-ups. She convinced me that if I kept drinking those goddamn blue shots, my confidence would triple. Considering I didn't have any in the first place, I could pass as a normal person, at least in this setting. An hour or two after arriving, I stumbled out onto the enormous patio in the back, and onto the freshly mowed lawn. Almost everyone else was inside, listening to Brigg's final speech, so there were no witnesses to what happened next. Now, I said almost everyone because there was still someone out there. My vision was starting to get a tiny bit fuzzy, and I realized that my drinks had been laced. Then, I saw her. My mind was hazy and I thought she was someone else. That someone else would be Rose Smith. She was my ex wife, and I admit, I hated her with a passion. She took everything I had, including my son, Ray. I staggered towards her - who I still didn't realize wasn't Rose - when someone slipped a knife into my hand. I was too busy planning what to yell in her smug face to feel the cold metal against my sweaty hands. Janet - still, Rose in my drunken mind - looked up and saw me. In her eyes, I probably looked crazy. I was. But I never meant to hurt her. And that's the thing, I didn't. The same someone who had given me that knife stepped in front of me and stabbed her. The knife went in and out and in and out of her flesh and I couldn't stop watching. Then, the stranger turned around, grabbed my knife, and stabbed her once more with it. I was about to pass out when the stranger's face was finally revealed. They leaned close to me, smearing Janet's blood on my face. "R- Ray?" I stuttered. I couldn't bel- 

Darkness.

I had passed out, with blood on my hands and face and Janet's body right next to me. I knew Rose didn't like me, but I didn't think she could go as far as making our son frame me. The next morning, I awoke to harsh voices and blue uniforms and flashing lights. Next thing I knew, I was being tossed in the back of a police car. You can guess how the rest went.

But none of that matters now. Because now is a different day and I am a different person. I was never the person to even consider taking my own life; yet here I am. I have a pencil. If I can just get that goddamn metal ring off -

snap

Success. I hold that tiny piece of flimsy metal in my hand for just a second before plunging it in my wrist as deep as I could go. Things are starting to get darker now but I can't stop. I could feel my conscious getting closer and closer to blacking out before I heard a voice. "Dad?"

It was Ray. My son! He had come for me! And here he sees me in all of my glory. Oh god, what have I done?

"Ray... I'm so sorry. I... I love y- you." I manage to spit out before it all goes bla-

-

"I love you too, Dad."

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who lived in the trash filled streets of New York City, in an apartment that seemed to clean for the filth around it. With a cardboard crown upon his head, he ordered his toy soldiers to attack the innocent menagerie of stuffed animals.

"Charge!" King Xander yelled, from atop his great glass horse. He thrust his spear forward towards the infantry in front of him. With their silver eyes fixed on the magical Animals of Ether, they advanced quickly across the green plains of the great kingdom. With every step the sinister soldiers took, the grass under their feet died, killed by the evil spirits inside. See, Ether hadn't always been like this. In the beginning, it was a beautiful land, full of crystal clear rivers and towering castles made of precious metals and glass. The kind - Xander - was just a boy then, pure and untouched of the malicious forces outside of the kingdom. When he was 11 years old, his parents were lost in the forests on the boundary of Ether. In denial of their deaths, he ran bitterly to the forest, where he was captured by an nefarious witch. She turned his soul to ashes, and his heart turned dark along with it. When he came back to the kingdom, he was old enough to properly rule, and the citizens had no choice but to follow his every vicious command. But, there was a group who's hearts were too strong to be conquered. The Animals. They were as old as time, smarter than the King, and stronger than steel. They revolted against the king, refusing to follow him; and were banished to the outer lands of Ether. There, they planned and plotted until they had the right idea. Fight. Fight well and good and until the others tire and fall. And that's exactly what they did.

i saw you on the train. short quick glances proved to me that you were around my age, with auburn hair and brown eyes that i could fall in to. i was counting your freckles when you looked up. 

contact.

i broke it, directing my attention to the view outside. i could feel your eyes flick up to me and i was suddenly aware of my slouch and the crumbs on my lap.

sit up. brush away.

blush.

i looked over to you to see that you were still looking at me.

but not with disgust like i had expected.

a smile.

you waved, your tiny golden rings shining in the artificial light. i smiled back and nodded. 

shit; did that look weird? 

you stood up.

holy shit holy shit holy shit

you sat down

oh my god

"hi"

i want to feel yellow.

i look purple and sound blue but

yellow

is what i reach towards

i've been told my lips taste violet

and my anger comes out green

i don't want to be a rainbow of colors

for someone to experience 

i want yellow

to taste to hear to feel to sound to touch

because i've never

had it before

///

i know this is messy but i'm gonna be writing some poems based on my synesthesia

it's hard to miss someone you barely knew

she left when i was young

but the hole inside my heart

spreads throughout my lungs

i can't breathe

but tears still fall

you can hear my sobbing

through the walls

my floor is covered

with pictures of you

things i don't recall

and every night

i hear your voice

drifting, light and small

-

fmgm, 2004-2006