Under the surface

Shove me under, deep into the solid core of this rock.
Through the sea, the eternal dark depths are disturbed by my presence. Falling forever...
Spinning
        Twisting
                   Falling.
Trapped in an eternal game of tag with life and death.
The, pressure, builds, grows, consumes.
But suddenly... Release.

A hole that swallows sight, a force of nature able to wipe clean even its own existence, tears its way out of my chest, infinitely exploding. Forever.

Long way down from here,
Perpetually fighting,
Infinitely swirling,
Mystically making,
Love,
Loss,
Lies.
Live.
.

In your heart

I'm in your heart, so beat me.
Won't let the pounding defeat me.
Really doesn't matter how you treat me.
I'm free.

Swallow me whole, forget to chew.
Into the acid, ooh, I'm melting for you.
Shallowly breathing, but I'm still turning blue.
Its true.

I'm so into you.

Raw audio: My life unplugged

So, I've decided to try something new.

To continue my theme of free flowing consciousness that is this blog, I will now be posting audio. I feel that by allowing any creative form to be posted here, I will feel inspired to post more often, which as any blogger will tell you, is usually a big issue. Keep in mind that this blog is about raw creative expression and is not to be taken as a serious art form.

From my mind to yours, I hope you enjoy.

To my army of silent fans
With sincerity and love,
-Cody

Raw song idea audio.

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s278//sh/c1237fd0-ae3d-4f4a-99aa-4f312b454b4c/9e29a98fdeb62ae2ebe701c7bd920b14

Nocturnal Notes to self #1

https://www.evernote.com/shard/s278//sh/e152c94b-d5be-45de-9835-e720c5601685/9bb80fd3e870f6f6e8ae422c1d700cd5

Destruction

Destruction of all that is and all that ever will be.
Nothing lasts but everything keeps moving.
Like a train derailed, life and death push onwards, unstoppable.
Find beauty in this chaos and try to not make sense of it all, for madness awaits for those who choose not to accept their place.

A day for doodles

This is all open for interpretation

ummm...

Mirror

You humans are all the same. You want someone to love you, to pamper you, and tell you that your the only one, that you are special.  Well I have news fleshies, your not special, your not beautiful, and frankly, you smell funny. To think an all knowing being like myself would find you beautiful and deserving of my praise... Why, that is just pompous, absurd, and quite arrogant.

But... I only-

I only! I simply! Just a small favor Mr. Magic Mirror!
Do I look like your pool boy? Is it simply the nature of a mirror to attract narcissism? This is a fate I grow tired of girl, a fate worse than having to stare at your wretched face every morning as you apply your "beauty" layer by layer...
Leave me be for today girl, I am not yet ready for such torture.

*girl turns and walks away, bowing her head*

Mirror mirror on the wall, you look so lonely long and tall, what makes you shine and tell the truth? What makes you such a hardy sleuth?
Be it magic or a curse, what brought you to such an awful earth?

Tom Thinks

Dead ends as dry as dust.
Bones, fragmented and strewn across the lawn.
A fairy who is long past her prime, lazily floats along leaving a trail of dark smoke behind her.
The sun shines but it is not seen, hidden behind clouds of lost hopes and dreams.
The air smells of old cookies and rotten fruit.

"This is the place lost to us long ago" says the disembodied voice.

Tom could care less, he looks around the unfamiliar surrounding. The scorched earth, the dark clouds, the countless horrors around him, and he thinks to himself; "Did I remember to lock the front door?"

Thoughts on the road...

Biding for time, I waste my days in a whirl of activity and emotion. The tides that come to wash away the debris of things left behind, they carry with them a chill and a hope of places far beyond my reach.

One step off the track... I feel lost.
Two steps, and I feel free.
Three steps, and I never feel like turning back.

Like dust our past flakes and falls apart, blow by the wind, it covers our lives , layer by layer.
That which is not used in soon forgotten under the dusty layers of past. Old sins are forgotten and new ones are forged. Time is only a modern adaptation of an old idea. Like the wheel, and all other great inventions, time was simply a facade, just an idea without a use. However, all great ideas are eventually corrupted by the power of human greed, they are marketed and adapted, made "useful". We are sold back these abominations of creativity, these perversions of free thought, made to believe that our lives will be made easier, more efficient, better.
But does one ever stop and contemplate these improvements? Should one not approach a new idea with caution and a bit of skepticism?
Does time really help us manage our actions, our ideas, our sleep. Does time really allow us the freedom to break our lives into easily manageable blocks, or does it restrict us to this form? Perhaps we are bound by the very things that we believe brings us freedom. Feed your thoughts, question everything, don't become complacent, and above all encourage differences in thinking, the individual is beautiful but the community is powerful.

Joan is Alone pt.1

Cold, alone, bitter, Joan sits on the side of the long empty stretch of road, waiting, watching, eyes fixed on a distant space beyond the horizon. The cool fall air numbs the tips of his ears; he thinks little of it. Joan has far more on his mind than physical discomfort. Joan uses an old trick to help tame his thoughts, he sits quietly, opining his mind, becoming aware of all that is around and within him. Listening to the low hum of silence that surrounded him, watching the gray sky in the distance fade to black as the sun set, Joan continued to sit. He let his mind wander, let his thoughts run free like wild sheep, and like sheep he herd them, one at a time into their proper pens. Joan was a Shepard to his own thoughts. No thought was left untouched, anger was acknowledged and put aside, and with it fear. Hunger was tamed, and old memories were gently closed into there own resting place. As each thought was taken care of, Joan began to relax and sink further into a new world, a place of light, of peace, and of absolute freedom. Joan could feel his body slowly slip away, like an afterthought, as something new took its place. This new body, this new thing, it was beyond words, beyond description, it knew no bounds or limits.

The best Joan could do to describe this feeling to you or I would be to stare wide eyed and awestruck and proclaim, "amazing". Joan would later write in his journal and describe this as a state of connection, as a time in his life that contradicted everything that he ever knew, a time when for but a brief but glorious moment, Joan no longer felt alone...

Blank

For now I will stay hidden in the darkest depths of the inter-webs, plotting my grand escape...

This hidden cove offers be the most beautiful of treasures, nothing, emptiness, possibility. A blank canvas is a canvas that could one day hold a masterpiece, a rare work of beauty that an artist meticulously slaves on in secret for years only for it to be stolen by a petty thief and pawned off for a cheep thrill. Later it is sold to a lonely man who finds beauty in this lost art, frames and hangs it on his bedroom wall where it is admired every day. Its beauty brings this man hope, it fills him with emotion that never before existed and offers a brief escape from the hell that is his own doing. A blank canvas can one day become a father daughter finger paint day where laughs and smiles are exchanged, colors are flung, and memories are made. A blank canvas canvas can become the outlet for the thoughts of those whose minds are far beyond saving. In this multiverse  of possibility nothing can become the key to everything. However, a blank canvas could always remain blank. Simply because one can, does not mean one will. However endless the possibilities, there must always be a catalyst, a spark, a bit of magic. Momentum begins with but a single movement.

Announcement

Hello all,

Being new to this whole blogosphere, and not knowing wear to start, I've decided to start off by dumping some random poetry/old thoughts. These were scattered around my iPod notes, my phone texts to myself, and other random sources. I am aware that they are not the highest quality posts but hey, I have to start with something. I'm not quite sure where I will go from here but I am open to any suggestions. What do people enjoy reading on these things? I'm not people so.... Let me know in the comments.

For future submissions I would like to involve interactions with the community. Perhaps interactive stories where you are given the choice to vote on story outcome? 

If you find this page even mildly interesting then speak up, let me hear your opinion otherwise ill keep posting whatever I want. Not that I wont do that anyway......

p.s. If you don't want to be here anymore check out my favorite stomping grounds over to the right side of the page. Surely you can find something to entertain yourself with. 

The Greatest

Give me the greatest,
Or give me the latest.
Just give me anything that takes my mind away.

Wasting the day, thoughts run away.
Who says life wont take you twice?
Think it away, don't want to play...
Oh, What a day.

Mechanical child, haunting my dreams.
The sounds...
Grinding of gears and muffled words long forgotten.
Rust covered sprockets sprinkled with dust.
A healthy unwelcome, destruction of trust.

Can a future be seen?
Oh, it must....
Oh, it must...

Dreams

Cause I feel the pain,
And I feel the blame,
And I feel the same.
Every day.

Nothing changes, only rearranges.
My heart beats much harder,
It's slaughter, it's slaughter.

Hope isn't pretty, it's callous and mean.
Take away hope and you just have a dream.

Dreams they can cut, and dreams can abuse.
A dream is the worst when its one I don't choose.

No Dear,

No Dear,
I never made it home safe.
The lights in your eyes they blinded my way.
The lies in your eyes they threw me away.

Riding alone, it never gets better.
Riding alone, I simply cant let her.
The farce that I live is all that improves.
If only a shift could trigger a move.

Deeper, further, and faster I sink.
I haven't forgotten, I cant sleep a wink.

No, I never made it home, and I never will.
This immense weight will buckle my spine.
Snapping, Crackling, Crunching it shatters.
Like frailty of hope, I'm not sure that it matters.

No Dear,
I'm afraid there is no home.
I'm afraid there is no Safety.
There never was.

Ascend!

At this speed I'm surprised that you managed to stay on your feet. You look like a small animal scrambling to stay alive. close your eyes and tell me what you see...

...Let your consciousness expand. Let your mind see what your soul is already aware of. Ascend!

Time

Over, under, flowing time.
Never slumber, feeling fine.
Life's a joke so laugh it up.
Ill be there to pick you up.

Flirting with the under toe.
Deeper than I'd ever go.
Dark escapes the lights warm touch.
A lost embrace of love and such.
And if I ever find my way, the light be damned I'd have to say.

And now we sing of distant pasts, the rolling thunder never lasts.
Things of old and long forgotten, we see them now but they have rotten.
We have become the endless maze, through folly of our selfish gaze.
Twisting, falling , melting through.
I'm reminded of a time with you.

Ringing

The ringing, it sounds
The music it drowns
Washing away that which once mattered.
Now that I float among the debris, I feel at home.
Broken promises and shattered souls, these are my friends.
The light promises a better future, the ringing helps to drown out the voices but the waves they keep coming and the horizon never seems to draw any closer.
Sinking under seems too easy.
Let the weight build and caress me to a dirt bed where I can sleep soundly.
Compassion keeps me afloat... Fear keeps me awake....
Ignorance keeps me curious... And knowledge brings me more to question.
This is an endless loop of circular logic.
Break free, I must. help me... I need wings to lift me out of this place.
Like words spoken to a mannequin, these dreams will be long forgotten.
No reason to remember things that never should have come to be.