PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Well.. here's a mini blog from Chase. Cuz I only slept for about an hour or so, then got a useless phone call that did nothing but upset me, and no I gotta wake up in an hour and a half for duty moving 5,000 pound crates with chains cuz my arm is "better". Yay.

This may not be an intellectually based blog like my other works have been in the past. Truth be told. Instead, it's like what my ex-fiance said best,

"No one's smart. We all just act like we are, even when we know we're really dumb." - Tianna Johnson

And that's EXACTLY how I feel right now. Dumb. Utterly and perpetually dumb. Stupid, had, used, played, the whole-shebang. I feel as though... I can't even begin to explain. But since I'm a HUGE fan of those awesome metaphors and analogies I love so much, let's put on of those in play, shall we?

Let's say you're a tree. Not huge, but not a twig, either. You're a tree. Surrounded in a desert of cacti and depression. You know you're better than all the plants around you, but you're still extremely malnourished, despite how glorious you are. The sun comes everyday, feeding you rays of glorious nutrition and love, helping you grow stronger and better. After each sunset, you patiently wait for what seems like an eternity everyday for the sun to return, every second its away a part of dies away, it feels like. If it were up to you, the tree, you would venture closer to the sun, uplifting your deeply set roots without a moments hesitation to escape the desert and get closer, forever getting rid of night and day; no matter what, the sun would be yours. So, you lift up off the ground, you expose your true weakness; but then the sun vanishes. It goes away. You were so prepared to give everything to be near to the sun... but nothing happens. It leaves you. So you're lost, not sure what to do at all anymore. In the dark of the vast, empty desert. Then the sun does come back, and you're exuberantly thrilled to see it once more! Only... it comes back with scorn.. and burns your delicate leaves and exposed roots... and you wither away; burnt and misshaped. You gave your love and dedication to the sun, promising forever you'd love it and only it... and nothing comes of it. Only a sense of false enrichment.

Sounds emo, yeah? But it's the best way to describe it. The situation doesn't deserve a deeper explanation, really. It was entirely falsified; founded off of pity and sumo-emotions to begin with. It wasn't real on both ends; only mine. And that's really the part that kills me the most... How real it was for me. Haha. I guess I feel like Steve from Blues Clues, yeah? The only real thing surrounded by a world of false animation; only imitating reality. I need to come home... I need to be loved the way I deserve..