ThoughtShock: A Manifesto "Preview"


'A manifesto'
By: Matthew Wayne

Chapter One
'Death Note'

Our minds can be such a beautiful thing, or perhaps our own worst nightmare. Where no thought can truly be original spawned within the far reaches of the human psyche. Exceptions given to the creators who can string such powerful words or emotions into a tangible way. A thought is more powerful than a simple word, it becomes a color, a smell, a taste and even an entire symphony of energy. Generally our brains are all wired the same, The trigger to it all?
Enter the paradox of thought. Science has proven that indeed we are all connected, physically our molecules are identical, chemically we share the same laws. So naturally one must call into question the possibility that with this connection as does our spirituality right?

One God or many, worship of one or of none? Where there are differences there should be at least of one common understanding is that should we accept that one great mystery within us all, and that is our Consciousness. The voice in our heads, the thoughts to an empty cavity of tissue. The brain, and the energy that powers such imagination and relativity.
We are the creators to our reality, the transfer of thoughts and actions. The energy into the spoken or written word, yet when no thought is ever original spawned from the limitless resources of the human mind can we question our own nature and simply observe the reality that surrounds us?

“I search for a meaning to the unknown
to study the reasons of the great mystery
and I bid my time till I learn the truth
for in the end I have but one question, Is this all?”

“Time can be the enemy, it can be a blessing
escaping us all once or twice, where years become just days
paths traveled, roads crossed, and the chances we took.
Where history is made with every step paved
memories slowly forgotten, becoming the treasure we retain
always moving forward, another second, another hour
then a day, next a month before long its another year
death always stalking you from around the corner, he waits.
For in time you shall follow and cross into his territory.
Chaos, disorder, perfection within insanity. The unknown
wilderness lit by energy and thought a living entity.
Everywhere, anywhere for all eternity.
Where there is one, there is another, an opposite,
for where there is nothing there will be something.”

Death can be felt an expression of thought, the feeling a man could wake every single day and feel death breathing on the back of his neck. Decay flows through his veins is a man born with the realization his days are numbered and the abyss beckons. This is about a man who embraced his own mortality that had affected his entire life. 'When there is nothing worth living for, death itself becomes a true temptation' When we live just to die. To complete the circle of life, creation and destruction, chaos in the grand illusion of reality based on the beautiful paradox which is the laws of attraction working in harmony with complete oppositions. A reality based on opposites. The abstract beauty of the whole complexity of our creation. Divine and elegant, the birth of thought a miracle in it's own.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a little preview of an upcoming shortbook I'm going to be working on here and there when I find the time and motivation. ThoughtShock has been a project in the making for a bit now the goal is to make people think and to open their minds to make them ask questions, that will be the aim of this book "A Manifesto"

Questions Without An Answer

Am I a poet or a man that finds himself lost in words?
Am I a man or a boy that was once a man, suddenly scared back into a boy.
Maybe I am nothing anymore, a shatter of emotions flowing wildly.
Where else is there to hide? What other mask can I put on?
Feeling like I’m stuck in time and the chance will never be mine.
Is it death mocking me or is it life torturing me?
Where do I go to be set free, to find meaning for a life that was never meant to be?

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You Asked Me


Now I was asked to write a poem
That is one about me
Very simply about who I am
The things I like to do
But I told her that I don’t
Rightly believe I can
Who am I?
That is a deep question
Which I will shallowly answer
I first and foremost,
Enjoy writing poetry
Just like this one
And I have never given
A second poem the same
Title as a fist poem
They are all different
Just like people
Other than that, I like music
Mostly rock and country
But I will listen to the others
If they have good beat and rhythm
And I can understand them
I have always been one to say
Fuck everyone else’s opinions
What they think doesn’t really
Bother me too much
But I always have been one
Who loves way too much
That is why most of my
Poetry tends to be about that
I have never been one to
Make friends with females
But you have done it
You have a friend in me
And that is all I can say
Perhaps later I will think
Of something else
And quite possibly,
I will write a poem about it
But until then, I bid you adieu

Written on
October 20, 2011

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This was a poem written to Vixen. She had said that I should write more about myself. Well this one is a response to that. See my poems are never about me, not entirely. That would cause me to have a bloated head. :P Just like this one, I have to have a reason to write. This one was about who I am, in a nutshell.

Do You Know What I Know?


Why is that I feel that
I am ready to run,
Yet I am glued
To this very spot?

Even if I do try to run
I wont get very far
Before I am caught
But by whom?

I know what I want to do
Every fiber in me aches,
Yes it aches just for you
Tell me why this is?

I know why, but it’s confusing
I want to run to you,
To hold you in my arms
Do you want it as bad as me?

I can feel your touch
Taste your kisses
Hear your voice in my ear
What, you too?

At night I lay down to sleep
And I feel you’re body
Laying next to mine
Can you feel it, too?

Yes, I want every bit of this
I want it so bad my head and heartaches
But they will keep aching
Do you know why this is?

Written on
September 29, 2011

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this to Tom ___. I have all these questions, but not any answers.

My Final Day Alive

My final day alive
What shall I do?

Should I go out
Surrounded by loved ones
Have a great time
And forget about tomorrow?

Should I go crazy
Do something insane
Make me feel alive
And not think of what is next?

Should I stay
Lock myself in my house
My final hours alone
Wondering what is to come?

It is my final day alive
What shall I do?

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soetimes i wonder..

my fucked up head

Sometimes i wonder...
Why is the sky blue...or why the grass is green...
I wonder why the earth spins ... why is it round ... and why are we here...

Why are people mean and gready while others are nice and giving...
Why are some parents awful while others would give up everything to have a child...
I wonder...why are we here...why am i here...

I wonder...and i just dont know...

I just dont get it...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I was just laying here thinking...n i got wondering again...

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Midnight Showdown


The alarm clock blinds me with its loud stare
The hum of its amp powers
Yearning for me to sleep
The minutes tick, chased by the seconds
Only for those two to catch up to the hours
Days, months… all of time I spent with you
When could I have been free?
Why did you keep me
When you never wanted me

So I stare at the loud glare
Of the clock, having 3 am burnt
Into my eye balls
Smoking my brain walls
With all the wasted time of young love

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And if I wake up to the glorious nothing
the dreams of night that since died
and gave way to the reality of the day
will the memories finally fade
and go and slip away

And if the love finds resurrection
the heavenly rebirth of what was dead
and blooms once again and grows high
will the ghosts of chilling silence remain
and live and never again die

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And there you are

My love my life

You found me in hell

Want me to be your wife


But we can’t seem

To float let alone swim

But why not

I always did it with them


I fear I’m dying

Drowning in unshed tears

Shivering and scared

Unspoken fears


Why can’t we make it

Why can’t we fly

Why when I find love

Am I doomed to die?



Written on

February 2, 2009

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Again this one was to Eli. Asking why we cant make it.

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