justcrazy96

        Aaand we're  back. I mean we never left. We were just quiet, lurking in the shadows, kept our breaths until an opportunity presented itself. Wait a second... Did I say we? Who the hell is we? Why are we talking in plural here? I meant John. Clearly. Obviously. Silly me, talking about anyone else. There is no anyone else. Just John. Forever and ever, like in the fairytales. Or was that in the nightmares? I don't even know anymore. Anyhow, let's get back to what's important. John. He is his own story after all. He's even in the titles. Even though important is quite a big attribute to give to John. He's only important for himself, on

The feeling you get When it's 3 in the morning and you're alone in your head and you eagerly want to write but you have nothing to say to the paper and the thoughts crawl beside you and you want nothing more than to think of her and miss her but then you realize that there is no her anymore and maybe there never even was...

Unfinished poems Filled with giant feelings In words too small Which don't describe By half the whole Weave of emotions From the innocent soul Of a child too small. Kidnapped from his dragon filled world And thrown to waste In a dark reality Paved with shards Of blood and altered life. Forever more twisted And always left unfinished. Likewise the words, the dreams And the futile desires...

The beautiful bliss Of reaching inner peace Is upon me because I'm longing to fly Into the darkness of your eye And find what it is That you do so to please Yourself as for me There's nothing more to see For I have been in your eyes And I have seen there that lies Can never set you free From a mind that's at sea In a struggle with the world That doesn't lead to the pot of gold At the end of a rainbow of mud And so in my eyes There's hopes of blue skies And of suns warm as hell But to someone I must tell That in spite of my bliss You should know that I always Carry an umbrella.

 Funny guy, this so called John Doe. If he could find himself half a brain, he could even be average. Too bad that brains don't grow on trees, and his mind doesn't really have the room to accommodate one at the moment.  It's just too busy getting filled with day to day crap and cynical nonsense to be forgotten after two seconds and then rethought half an hour after. It's a vicious circle actually. But then, it seems to me, the writer, that lately everything about this John is just another vicious circle, another bad joke, like when you make your dog chase his own tail for twenty minutes until he falls asleep. Except John never falls asleep.

 The poor sucker just won't die already. It kind of gets tiring to wait and wait and wait for the day when John Doe can finally go down, so that a new John can rise. But he's just too stubborn. And it's not like he doesn't want to die. He does, he really does with all his heart. But like any other suicidal idiot, every time he gets so close to death he thinks he finally made it, something pulls him back up, a sense of neediness, a sense of loathing for his future resurrection. Frankly,  he feels like he doesn't deserve to die, not yet. He'd much rather suffer for his sins inside his sick mind that almost turned into living hell. It all sound

 Do you believe in second chances? Well, John doesn't. He only believes in second screw-ups. Every new opportunity is for him just another time bomb waiting for the right moment to blow up in his face. And the trigger? It's him, of course. It's always him. Nobody is able to fuck John's life with more sheer talent than John Doe. He's a master of destruction, everything he touches turns to dust, and for some reason he takes an awful amount of pleasure out of touching his own life. He's got to take some solace tough. It's a mad world out there. He's not the only screw-up. Everybody has baggage, and some even manage to carry it with them without

 It's a mad world out there. Even worse, it's a fucked up world out there. And John Doe is one small, insignificant piece of broken puzzle in this godly forgotten world. Poor sucker. And he just recently figured this out, if only he had known. Until now, he thought that he was the one who needed fixing, that he was the one that was broken, but truth is, the world is broken, and now he has come to realize this. Everything changes, but no one does. John is amongst the wrong people in the wrong place in this reality. Everybody has baggage. One way or another, everyone gets hurt, and everybody gets dumb, and we all fuck up. That's just the way l

 Ok, it's becoming obsessive right now. John Doe really needs a breakthrough. He needs it badly. Too many things went wrong for him, there's got to be even a tiny grain of justice in this world, or karma, or whatever. It would be nice if, for once at least, things were to work out for him. He's definitely ready for it, in fact, he's been expecting this since God only knows when, so you might even say he was born ready. And he's also willing to go the extra mile, to actually try not to screw things up this time. He can't promise anything yet, but I've got a good feeling about this. It's crazy enough that it might just work. It's true, he stil

 Next comes nothing. John Doe is still down, with not much hope of getting up. Stuck on the surface, barely floating, praying for a miracle. A miracle that will probably never come. He's missed his chance, he blew it away like he always does. A chance came, another after, but as always, he dismissed them without hesitation. He didn't even realize he did it. He never does. His intentions are always good, but somehow he shoots himself in the foot with any given opportunity. If only he would have the courage of being so kind as to aim for the heart for a chance. But he's too much of coward for that. John has many, let's call them attributes bec