Writing’s on the wall (spectre)

So many of us are too engulfed in our own bubble of constriction to actually

take the time to read it. As the darkness begins to fade into the abyss,

you’ll see firsthand what makes your mor(t)ality the most valuable weapon

in your arsenal. With nothing left to lose, fear becomes an

abstract notion steeped in mythology. You’ll stop at nothing to win

in a game that’s long since been over. Persist, fight, make it worth

your while. Otherwise, you’ll suffocate on your own ennui

and fade into the background of oblivion. This is why we exist

and this is the reason we’ll never succumb to the

adversity fueled by false perceptions. You are

the master of your future and this is where

you begin to write it. Just make sure

there are no typos.


It truly is the inception of everything.

A thousand miles and poles apart make all the difference in the world.

I take assurance in the fact that I’ll never be without the serenity of

your essence. We sit on the edge of the world where your conflicting

existences collide into the dark. The truth lies far beneath the

war-torn surface. They’ve just been too buried in their own

drowned existence to grab a shovel. Make it to the end

and hope for the sweet release. It’s much more

satisfying than you might think.

Another way to die (quantum of solace)

I don’t think I’ll ever understand the sick, twisted mentality that can permeate

our society like cancerous growth. So many of us die in shame after living an

entire life in a false perception of dignity. They try and push their own false convictions of morality

on others despite the fact that it doesn’t affect them in the slightest.

They don’t understand the depths of the socratic paradox

as it pertains to their own philosophical shame. But as they

rise, so do they fall. They’ll always be there to try and

perpetuate the travesty that is injustice and we’ll

always be there to thwart them, to find yet another

way to die in a world that already kicked the


Casino Royale (you know my name)

What’s your game? Do you like to carry things around in Texas?

Do you get a kick out of poking people? Maybe you’re just a Jack

with a dark skin color. Or perhaps you’re a wheel man?

Regardless of the context, you’re better off steering clear.

You’re only fighting a losing battle.

Die another day

Deciding which day will be the tricky part. Friday’s no good because you’d be opening up a can of worms you’d never be able to close.

Sunday is a no-go because it already has an abysmal reputation.

Wednesday is a terrible choice because it offers a glimmer of hope in an otherwise bleak existence and showers you in the gratification you so desperately crave.

Monday won’t work on account of the fact that it’s too predictable.

Thursday doesn’t feel right either because you just can’t ascertain the true purpose and, as such, feel powerless to stop the unrelenting forces from grounding you in realism.

Tuesday just can’t exist because no one has yet to see it leaping around in the wild. It may as well be a sasquatch or the loch ness monster.

And Saturday would be perfect but now you have the entire weekend to look forward to and isn’t that just the pits? This is why you wanted to try it in the first place.

The world is not enough

I greet darkness as an old acquaintance while its shadows

dance around me as if pretending to know me for who I was. Those cobblestone roads permeate

every aspect of your essence. When the light accosts your very being, it’s time for the night to take its final bow.

Through the shadows, I witnessed the atrocities of everyday life: people conceding to the worst in themselves as they pretend their perceptions are somehow superior to countless centuries of human(e) existence. Those who cannot see watch us with judgement engrossing their skin and those who cannot hear listen to the sounds of silence coupled with the silent anguish of the millions of injustices beneath the surface of your own denial.

Your words can metastasize to levels not seen since the world tried to inhibit your own sense of freedom. I looked up at the subway walls and all that stared back at me was the warnings of those who failed the past to ensure a better future. Most won’t listen to the prophets because they can’t admit they were wrong

but we know you’ll never be able to improve until you’ve made peace with all the ways you’ve lost sight of yourself over the countless decades of moral ambiguity.

Tomorrow never dies

It lives on as an existential temptation, a veritable itch you dare not scratch.

The fear of the unknown permeates deeper than you’ll ever understand.

It offers nothing in the way of absolution; it just feeds on your own

insecurities and transgressions. Yet it offers a way out, a glittering

spark of hope for those who can see beyond their own self-doubt

and narrow scope of existence. It’s always in sight and yet it

remains unreachable through all its notoriety.

Worship what you can’t see and let me

know where that takes you. Ambivalence

will only get you so far.


Let go of what you’ve already lost.

Why is that so difficult for some of us?

I want to be mr. fahrenheit, invert the world and see it for what

it truly is. ecstasy won’t be your companion unless you let it.

I want to come alive but worry I’ll accidentally ignite the sky

and have no idea how to extinguish it. Perhaps that’s a

problem for another night.

License to kill

It seems as if it would be fun to have around. Frankly, I’ve always been a bit more fixated on

my license to live. It was gifted to me as a child and I couldn’t comprehend its full value until the pretrichor filled my lungs to the brim and engulfed me in its shadow.

I wanted to destroy it. It’s still intact but not for lack of trying. Somehow, it has withstood countless attempts on its life and remains a good sport through it all.

I understand now why the sunlight engrosses me through its own rays of optimism as it simultaneously shrouds me in darkness. I look down at it and keep it on hand at all times.

“Wait for me to grow up and appreciate what I’ve yet to lose”

The living daylights

We dove through the depths when everything else seemed lost. Even when you feel lost

to the stars, existentialism never gives up on you. I stare the reaper in the face and

feel his own insecurities firing back at me. He’s powerless to break me when he

knows nothing of his own fruitless circumstances. Even when we fight back

against the darkness, we make our own mortality feel unencumbered.

For all the times we’ve scream endlessly into the abyss, we need to

feel the ramifications of detaching from our essence. only then will

the rest of existence come into focus.

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