08/13/07

Nothing makes any sense.
Nothing makes any sense.
Nothing makes any sense.
My tthroat seems to get smaller and my heart races fast because my breaths are shorter. I break out into a cold sweat for a mere few seconds but in those few seconds I feel as if my world is collapsing. I want to cryand change but I don't because I can't. I wonder if this happens to everyone and they just don't say it. Or if I'm one of the unlucky few who get it because depression runs in my family according to my depressed sister who heard it from her psychiatrist.

Magic 07-26-07

While overhearing an arguement between two brothers, my cousins, about who's more fake Chriss Angel or David Blaine, my thoughts immediately ran to the conclusion that we are some confused sad folks. How sad is it nowadays that the possibility of magic is well...not even a real possibility. "It's harder to believe than to see" (Circa Survive). So basically we don't believe in magic or anything that could remotely resemble it. angel and Blaine are illusionits of at least that's what they have to call themselves in order for people not to think they are absolutely out of their minds.
So while we don't believe in magic that we see right before our eyes, we are able to become engulfed in science fiction with tales of a world unknown such as the infamous Harry Potter. Reading and walking has become the latest trend since Mr. Potter first made his debut and what is the book about? Magic. Magic magic magic.

Mississippi

This is a poem I had written when I went down to Biloxi, Mississippi to help rebuild the community after Hurricane Katrina.

Remnents of a home unclaimed,
unfound, unknown.
Ravished by the unbound sea, misplaced.
As you see the scattered pieces
of all that is left you wonder...
What's really left?
Hundreds displaced,
Millions to spend on homes,
moral issues at hand,
And 29 Hands offering to help.