HONESTY IS FADING PART 1 trivialization honesty is fading…diminishes in waving ribbons, the brightest of pinks, the darkest of blacks, something better and redder than blood…the past always requires justification, I play out the next two steps forward and excuses prepare red-handed white chalk outlines, prod the clouds with caveman-esque pitchforks, a smile of sins, mountain-volcanoes, something beautiful, music to calm the chaos… HONESTY IS FADING PART 2 this is another entry of deep emotion….trivialized by the commonness of such desire in young teenage bodies what I can remember, and what I cannot leave behind honesty is fading…once again has appeared in the suns shadows, I cannot talk, my words speak nothing no more and forever, a clever know-it-all thinks he is either ugly or misunderstood, but a whirlwind leaves nothing decipherable, a point in which there is no order, objects (slightly misconstrued) not perfectly aligned, there was a napkin on the rug and an ugly pink book hanging quietly and ungracefully over a conformity 90 degree angle, inner instincts, bred by mother and father, computer and television, peers and strangers, old caveman, pitchfork-bearers, weepers, winged men, and dreamers,… I am staring out windows, I notice myself ignoring the sun, letting it ride peripherally abound bumps and curves and words I rudely discard for inner thoughts, staring out windows, looking for familiar faces, seeking beauty in my head, loner, alone but not isolated, they see the vision they want to see, is that the vision I want them to see, why do they bother looking, they are happy if I am happy but they do not know me and they invade and invade and enter despite my opposition and I am seeking but I do not seek assistance, I do not need assistance, not here, not know, not under these circumstances, I am searching for love and a smiling face, happy beauty before summertime, sex and passion, and smiling before summertime, and the living is easy…..aid is for work, love is play, I am working on finding love and love escapes me once again today, maybe the shapes are not made for the clay,…..maybe that tomorrow will come after a thousand more todays,….chemicals and hormones and thoughts and impulses and burns and beauty and smiles and laughs and voices and burn and burn and mucus and coughing and sweat and tears and beauty and her and her and her……..walking, trudging when my feet and legs are filled with young blood and newborn muscles, an apathy of tattered shirts and wrinkled clothing, unwashed face and unclean body parts, I seem to focus on the smile-less and I do not want to be, I do not want to be them, but mirrored in their eyes I see that I often put off happiness as temporary bliss and forever it seems I will put off happiness into the future, put off play into the future, so I will be dull and dumb (but not in the viewers eyes, but maybe not even in the stargazers eyes, but maybe in my eyes (the only eyes that will go to the grave with me)) and I will be dull and dumb….and so be happy now??, do this now, temporary happiness, pills, drinks, fuck, fuck blondes, shit, what, maybe, now, somehow, screaming, search for answers……..return to a trudge along an empty sidewalk, maybe I will sigh and shake my head at pieces of trash along the ground, maybe I will aid the humans, bones protruding like a half-eaten order of barbecue ribs on the edge of a garbage can nibbled on by obese rats in a dark alley lit by neon signs, maybe I do not want to deal with humans, this is me, I am caring for gossip, I care if I see others working, I care if I see others playing, I do not know what to do, this fucking time, question it, please question, please fucking listen to me and understand, pulling out frizzed hair, an evil stare above black eye rings, and a voice that cannot sing, let alone talk, no he walks and walks and feet exhausted and bones broken and skin melted and hairs growing, he types his last words, a computerized will burned with a whatwillbeaninefficientcomputer, and then, will there be tears, will there be me, who understands, it is like a force screaming from my body, a spirit looking for friends of similarities, and I am finding nothing, NO answers, no sex, no girlfriend, no love, no hope, no truth, no life, no love, no smile, no laugh, no love, no girlfriend, no no no , what, please, cops, I did not know what I was doing, what was happening, horniness is the devils sin entering my body when they opened the gates and pried open my mouth, fifteen doctors with fifteen knives in my back, fifteen doctors took fifteen used popsicle sticks to open my refusing mouth, the pill dropped in in the fastest slow-motion know to man-me, and I heard the pink capsule pop open, it was white dust (where are the police now?) that threw my pH up and down and teased my body until it screamed uncle, they released me when I had a smile on my face,………………and there was not beautiful girl waiting on the side where the grass grew green, I exited the door with the rainbow walls, the sign said come again soon, and I trudged/skipped with a frown/smile with my hand limp, dead, in my pockets, clenching tightly a clear near-empty container, and a wallet with an empty slot for a girlfriends portrait HONESTY IS FADING PART 3 the date is irrelevant…spirits are carried in my body or carry my body through these seasons, through these years, they rewire me, combine chemicals and connect hands, my arms crossed in the day that expected rain, water dripped down on the day that expected life, clouds departed with the babys morning breath, and the moon sent the earths rays into a black hole as the old mans sigh formed a cloud in front of his wrinkled hands rubbing together furiously,……….as age sets upon us all, we witness the changes, those we saw forthcoming and those unanticipated, there will be happiness and sadness but fear cannot force us to form constant alertness, or paranoia, or pull us from potentially beneficial experiences,.. so we walk on, but do we wander aimlessly, no, that is me, that is the loner, the walker, the thinker, the noble, honest, kind, polite, quiet man without strong desire, he cannot fit in, he shall not fit in, he shall not ask for much, he shall not receive much,….their aimlessness is disguised in smiling faces and authority figures, it is a soldier walking into a mirage, he does not realize his gun is pointed at his brother and the brother is unaware as well and their coffins will share the same appearance and the same mourners and the same tears, it is these processions of people walking in circles, they do not strive for change, as this life is acceptable, as this can please them and they do not care that some will never be able to reach the lives they were born into and the system now could be so much better but could also be so much worse and since all is an opinion the majority will run over me in pursuit of fresh doughnuts….I must be drowsy, intangible (tangible = clear + definite; real), ununderstandable, I must be preaching the morse code of man-made fine print, I must be speaking in the colors of hypnotizing paintings, I must be doing nothing worth mentioning, no purpose lies here, there is simply an emptiness and my thoughts simply highlight such emptiness rather than fulfill it,….so is the answer simple, simple as the white rockers repetitive, once-said lyrics, as simple as a peer can describe, as simple as the movie makers portray it,…..I get lost in my need to be ambiguous and elegant that my words bounce off like nothing, and this is nothing, just practicing writing, I do not trust these surroundings, this blank sheet to the truth, and what lies in me sounds so stupid and so foolish and…I fear what they think of me so much, I fear what they think of me too much, and gossip and praise and gossip and praise, and nervous fingers clutching a cd player without batteries, beauty somewhere…and the night…..going in reverse love found responsible irresponsible education nice date……….run forward man, there are friends waiting for you to speak, there is a man on the bench waiting for the ball to remove him from sweat-glued position, there are educators and lecturers relinquishing the puppet controls to your hands, there are books and words and numbers and essays, and there is a girl that passes by…..and and and……then priorities come into question, and I cannot miss such an opportunity, before summer.
The Essay on Description Of A Sculpture “The Thing”
... what they see is overlooked. For example, in a sculpture named “The Thing,” detail is written all over ... roughly two or three pounds. The colors of the sculpture varied from a golden copper where it was ... with truth that the person who made this sculpture is a professional artist. The detail and small ... all of the materials and pieces of the sculpture together, which is called brazing. It takes many ...
The Term Paper on Figures In The Women Man Body David
In the Egyptian era there were many art forms that were done and sculpted. Seated Scribe is one of these Egyptians sculptures. It was done in 2400 B. C. E and was done in limestone by subtractive sculpting. The colors that are used in this sculpture are very plain and bland. You can notice that the color is wearing away at the sculpture because there are blotches where the paint has started to ...
