Writers and deep thinkers like Herman Hesse propose that if we see something in human behavior that we don’t like… Then we are observing something about ourselves that we find offensive.

I will admit that there is a possibility of this; however a certainty?

Quite often I see behavior in people that can be nothing short of mental illness. The fact that I don’t appreciate the finer details of insanity is not an indication of my own illness.

I’m sure I could convince Mr Hesse to the errors of his ways if he were still among us; however I have little willingness to educate those who keep banging this drum of supposed certainty.

Their smiles came so easy. I was awestruck… just amazed!

To wonder what it must be like to be feeling that unfazed.

To grow up with a knowing trust; that you’ll never be let down.

That someone’s looking out for you, and is here and not left town.

I felt I shouldn’t warn them of their fates so sure to come.

Cause I kinda like their happy talk, You know it really works for some.

So I smiled insincerely, tried it on, felt like a fool.

I’ll just stick to what I know, in the deep end of the pool.

Tis early here at crow piss; its darkest before the dawn.

Been dreaming about her beauty, and a smile she had on.

Time is somehow fleeting, on a race to God knows where.

I’m just naked in the shadows, with a calm yet distant stare.

Might sound like I’m complaining, I’m just searching for more sleep.

There’s a laughter in the distance; followed by a gentle weep.

Wicked Wanda’s telling stories and none of them are true.

She has her Heroes riled up and they’re coming for me and you.

Now I can’t say I’m worried because I’ve dealt with this before.

You see I knew her older sister and her Mother I adore.

But for you I’d make provisions, set affairs and say goodbyes.

When Wanda’s on the war path, there’s no running from those lies.

There’s a stress that’s in my throat now: I try to call it out by name.

And has shown over time to me. That after, I’ll never be the same.

There is no rhyme or reason. Like the Nile can’t find the source.

I know it came from someone… You? Yes! Of course of course.

I’ve been searching for this feeling… The kind I get when I’m alone.

And if I need to reach out… I’m sure your hands are on the phone.

Don’t you take it personal now. Cause you know I’ve had enough.

Please tell me about your feelings and all that really high-brow stuff.

There’s no moral to this story. Few winners can be found.

Just the world seems topsy-turvy, and Love is losing ground.

Mad Willie is giving stock tips.

Mad Willie wants it rich.

He gave it up for love and fam.

And fame which is a bitch.

Mad Willie he tells me stories.

Mad Willie makes me howl.

He has what I’d call unique views.

But he’s throwing in the towel.

No more work for Willie.

The big score will come in.

He has it all and keeping faith.

Let the leisure time begin!

She had a voice like mother… with a low sweet cadence drawl.

The kind that makes one shudder like a noose before the fall.

I searched for strength to hold back. I didn’t know how or what.

She caught me in that moment where I tried and failed to shut.

I wasn’t sure her motive, however I felt that it was planned.

I lost my will to say goodbye and then I lost my will to stand.

I left things as they started, all bright eyed and confused.

I left alone with my life more black and blue than bruised.

It’s payday at the Gulag… There are smiles raining down.

The dealers here, peddling dreams. Anticipation is all the sound.

It’s chaos until midnight. When Cinderella hears a moan.

She was in the Masters dark room, where she thought they were alone.

It’s over like it started. Alarm clocks ring at dawn.

We move like it’s all over… It’s just the money that’s all gone.

“I love Vietnamese culture. Proud, loyal, family… “

She told me, “Your words and your heart don’t match.”

I told her, “You don’t understand half of what I’m saying, so…. it might be just miscommunication.”

I knew she might have a point.

Maybe my words were just posturing

My actions are the tell

Ah, so much to learn…

It might sound like complaining. I assure you that I’m not.

It is more like humble bragging. Which I tend to do alot.

It’s not true that I can’t help myself. It’s more like I never tried.

Could be from too much attention. Or to little… I can’t decide.

I used to be a victim. Now I just be a volunteer.

My head is firmly up my ass. And I can’t see to clear.

Writing myth in the first person. To see why and who I could love.

It’s not I’ll ever understand, but I try… Push comes to shove.