unfinishedcastles

I do not hate Muslims, gays, lesbians or atheists. I do not deny science, or live in ignorance of it. I support peace and want to make the world better, not give up on it. I don’t hope hell for anyone, or want the world to end. I am not perfect And I don’t pretend to be I don’t have all the answers And I never will, here. I guarantee nothing with my prayers They’re simply conversations With a God I chose to believe in Because, I admit, I’m too weak to do this Alone.

Nothing good has ever come from dreaming big. What are you talking about? That’s how the Wright brother’s flew, that’s how Armstrong went to space and that’s how the colonies where freed! Yeah well, nothing good ever came from me dreaming big, kid. Nothing but disappointment. That’s just because you don’t believe in your dreams. What are you talking about? I have the dreams, obviously that means I believe in them. Well it’s like you have a flower and you expect rain water to make it grow. But you’re in the wrong climate for this flower. So what? You let it die? No, you just work harder, giv

The hardest part of growing up is letting go of your dreams, especially if you’re like me and that’s all you’ve ever had. Especially, especially if you dream big, I mean, like you have morbidly obese dreams that nobody could ever get out of your head because they couldn’t fit through the doors. It’s hard because I’ve never had anything except for my dreams. I never had fame or fortune. I’ve always had a family that loved me but they didn’t really support me. They made sure to keep my expectations limited to protect me. By doing this they only fed my big fat dreams more. Some people who come in

The crack addict That lives outside my house Who knocks at 2 a.m. Thinking it’s alright To intrude on my dreams And give me new ones instead That I then must write down Or they’ll leave my dumb head He feeds off other people’s stories To make them his own To get money out of the tragedies By telling them to me Who then wakes up And feeds his habbit I love him to death But he’s driving me cra cra Dang nab it

When I imagine heaven I get nervous. Not because of how long it is or what it will look like but because there will be no more lies. Everyone will know everything about me. I imagine it like a giant theater, there’s popcorn and coke and any type of candy you could ask for. Everyone’s laughing, talking, just excited for the movie to start. I sit down and I recognize everyone in the audience. I want to talk to all of them but before I can get up the movie starts. The title screen looks familiar. It’s my mom. She is holding me, a baby. The title appears above my mom, Katie. I smile, not knowing what is happening. The film goes

I prefer my movies to be sad. I prefer my dreams to be horrors. I prefer my friends to be drifters and my lovers to be liars. I prefer to be right about the world being hopeless and my life being a tragedy. This way I don’t have to try to get help or believe in anything. This way I don’t have to try. This way I don’t have to live. I can just be; without guilt. After all, without guilt there is no reason.

It gets easier. I can promise you that. I can tell you that even while looking at your contorted face that have more tears than clouds have raindrops. I promise things will get better. Somewhere along the road of life your heart will pick up a few tricks from who knows where and breakups and death will hurt less and less. But some nights are longer than others. And on those nights where all you can see is ?????? and you no matter what logic cards you have, you can beat doubt on those nights. He has lady luck on his side sometimes too. And on those nights where you curl up in a ball and see all your demons laughing and pointing their finger a

The Rose Not Taken I fear my heart is wilting I think I soon may quit These dreams that used to fill my head Now don’t seem to fit I can’t believe in love forever If I can’t even make it stay for a night I can’t keep pretending That everything’s going to be alright If there was a rose bush In which every other bud had been picked Could the rose not taken Not feel tricked Tricked by the words That told her that alone she’s complete And that she’s too beautiful For any other to compete? I look at my pillow now And realize I’m not And there’s nothing that can help Until all this life st

Reaching Enlightenment She likes to play her favorite song so quietly that she has to be conscious of how loud her breaths can be to hear it. She does this because she knows that the loud part is coming up and to turn it down while it’s playing require effort and she likes to float in her serenity cloud to enlightenment while this song plays. It’s like the song is the only road she knows that can take her there. She’s never showed it to anyone else because still in her 21 year old head she believes in the same magic as wishes in this song in that if she tells anyone else the power will be lost. She ignores the fact that the

The Cat Lady Who Stole Valentines Day Every what down in Whatville liked Valentines Day a lot but the Cat Lady who lived just north of Whatville did not. The reasons were obvious to anyone who lived outside Whatville, the whats were just plain obnoscious about their holiday. They’d buy everyone in town a valentine, the more expensive and the bigger the better. Every year the heart shaped animals in their stores would get bigger and bigger until finally they could only fit one in the window of the store and the whats would have to preorder them to have them shipped to the recipient’s house. The candy of this day would stock their