Worth a penny and a fish tank

I'm not worth much... I mean if you offered me a penny and a fish tank I would surely be at your beck and call, that's just me really. I mean what composes my body really? Oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen. That's the bulk of what forms my skin and so on. But there's more. There's much more to this simple composition. We're all brittle body masses but we are strong. Not by what makes us by what we make of ourselves. We are human, but what of each person? What is an individual worth and how do you reach a conclusion to how much they cost? At one point we as humankind judged this by skin color and social class but have we changed really? Sure we have progressed but there is still those who see themselves higher than others. I used to have someone very close to me who thought themselves better than I. They never vocalized or discriminated but I knew they looked down on me. It hurt I suppose but what is pain if you are a human? I have a point to this whole mess of random ideas. They are all relevant I promise just bear with me. See, everyone is riding a horse but some like to boast that their horse is slightly taller than others when in all actuality we are all on the same plain. We are even and we all equal a greater whole than each individual amounts to. We are all humans and we are all built with the key components of oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, and nitrogen. If this is fact than it can be stated that nothing makes me better than the scruffy homeless man who pilfers your trash can for food, for him and I are each an individual that forms a greater whole. Humanity. Nothing higher nor below.

Hearts and Souls and Why I wear hats

You know...I fancy myself to be someone who has a soul and a heart. One of the few on earth who have both. I've fought back and forth between what it takes to have both individually and what one must do to achieve both and I've found that I do not in fact have either. I'm rare... despicable really. I mean, every human must have at least one but I have neither. I thought at one point that I was a soulless heart who was destined to fall in love with a heartless soul but I see now that I don't deserve such a thing. I'll elaborate of course. A heart. It's all about feeling pain, happiness and so forth. I don't feel. I'm numb. I've had moments, you know though. Where I thought I might have a heart but it's all mirrors. I'm imitating what it takes to have a heart. Following the crowd... A soul though is far more tricky. See a soul is what life is all about. You feel warmth when your cold and feel a cooling breeze when your hot. That's a soul. Without a soul your an empty shell. You feel nothing. A soul is far more rare than a heart. Your born with a heart and over time that heart can deteriorate or grow stronger. Depends upon the person really, but a soul is something you find. Now, it can be found anywhere and sometimes it can be found in multiple places. I have a soul out there and I have truly found it...twice to be exact, but I lost it both times. I was never able to keep a hold of it... Now my heart, I was born with that vital organ but it seems my heart imploded. It couldn't bear the weight that I was putting on it so with all the pressure it collapsed. It's sad I know but I wouldn't know if it wasn't for my understanding of what happened. I feel empty most days...

I write with my hands

I might break my hands so that I will never write another word about you. It would help me get over how I'm feeling. I would be forced to deal with and forget words written. It's what drew you in and what made me realize I loved you. Not the first but the latter. I was in love with you. Anyways, it was my writing that brought you in. Like a venus fly trap calling towards a fly. I had no intentions of hurting you though I did a few times. I could go back to June and remember those words but those words are old and dusty and hold no meaning. So to stop my pen I will break the thing that holds it. I won't be able to hold back if I don't. I won't write nor breath a word of you. I will erase myself from existence and you won't be able to bother me.

A plot to disappear

I would like to phase out. Phase out meaning to disappear. To become nothing for the slightest moment even would make me feel warm. I'm plotting out this act. I'm preparing for a trip out to the sea. I might travel by foot, or car, or airplane but I will get there. I'll gather things along the way. About myself, humanity, and what it means to breath. I'm sick of these bullshit places I call home so I'm molding a new idea of home. It won't be anything but simple. A simple idea. For this search I'm going to shed everything. Friends, Family, belongings. I'm going to lose everything so that I can find out what my feet can do. It's necessary though you might not agree. I've grown tired of everything around me and even myself, I've grown tired of me. So I'll plot and execute this plan for disappearing. I'll leave without any goodbyes and without warning anybody of my plot or where I am going. This letter to all who matter or all who think matter is the only indication of my plot. Though you'll probably take this as a joke or a metaphor. You decide...

Maybe I'm insane or maybe I just need sea salt

Sheepish mannerisms. What made me so afraid today? I saw a glimpse of what I am and what I will be and I held fast to old thoughts and life views. I wasn't myself I guess...I looked in the mirror and saw yet another person. It changes everyday. This one had black eyes and pale skin. Like he had no soul. Like who he was was lost in translation. Maybe I suffer from schizophrenia. Maybe there's numerous versions of myself floating around inside my head and each get their chance in the limelight. Maybe I need help, maybe I need space, maybe I need to be alone by the sea to gather my thoughts.
...
That's a reoccurring theme it seems. The "sea". Maybe that's the answer to my every problem. I just need sea salt.

Angel wings and anchored legs

If I die tonight,
sprout wings and fly away,
then tie an anchor to my leg so that I won't stray too far.

Hermit days

I wish to not exist. I hope for home one day by the sea in a bungalow estate where I can do as I please without surrounding glares. I will change my name and will become a hermit. I could live by the sea. I'd keep my jewelry so as to remind myself of what I left behind. I would have a broom closet of sorts to the side and I would store it all in there. In buckets labeled "past" and when I felt nostalgic I'd sit in that closet with the switch turned to "off". With a mere flash light to which I would shine on the rubies, sapphires, and diamonds. The glimmering beauties would remind me of the things to which I hate and I will then be able to never look back.