You Did It

When you finally get it,
And you start to hone your craft.
It's like you are a different person,
And you just can't beat that,

You start to act differently,
Like you actually understand,
That no one really knows what we're here for,
But we all can,

Help each other find the thing that helps,
Each other feel alright,
Like whittling sticks on a sandy beach,
Or dancing on a Saturday night.

Man, and it's alright,
If you have to do it all alone,
It's not an easy thing to do,
Stumbling upon the unknown.

No Connection

For every person that loves you,
Assume five more don't,
And that one-half actively hates you,
As well as the others that simply won't,

Get to know you, 'cause they don't have time,
What with all the demands on their lives,
Which you are so well aware of, yourself,
Which is why you don't have the time,

To have an opinion of most of those,
That you meet day after day,
Except in so far as you can use them,
Or stay out of their way,

Because we're all alright,
As far as our worlds go,
It's when they collide with others,
That our nastiness shows.

Sorry

You are not responsible,
For anyone else,
At least in so far as they react,
To the shit that happens to themselves,

Even if you know how it is,
You should be in order that,
They are as happy as pigs in shit,
Because you're not responsible for how they react,

And you are responsible for yourself,
And how it is you feel,
And if making them feel alright depresses you,
Then you know the deal,

That it's alright,
That you're not responsible for how they react.
Just worry about what makes you feel good,
And I'm sure they'll be happy with that.

Your Thoughts Deceive

There are things your body tells you,
That are better left unsaid,
Either to the world at large,
Or simply in your head,

Like, how you'd love to smash,
A head or a life,
A thought not foreign to most,
Who have ever experienced strife,

Which is everyone,
For it's a rite of passage,
From childhood to adult.
It's like the old adage:

The kids are alright,
They can stay behind with her,
They'll be better off, anyway,
Than in my unpredictable world.

Legacy

You may be irrelevant,
Though, no more than anyone else,
At least in the overall realm of reality,
And the true nature of the self,

But within the context of the personal,
And the reality we all create,
As a society to nurture each other,
Some are more and some are less great,

And some are just born out of their time,
Some too early and some too late,
And some are meant for a reality,
That humans could never make.

So it's alright,
When in your darkest hours you contemplate,
How your greatest works are valueless.
That is simply some of our fate.

Instinct's Value

There will be moments in your life,
When you feel extremely,
Uncomfortable about what,
You are doing,

And that could be your conscience,
Telling you to stop,
But could it also be the excitement,
Of challenging the cops,

Of flying in the face,
Of society's demands,
In a guerrilla sense,
Not a violent way.

It may be alright,
And ten times in a row, it may not,
But some people will keep trying,
Until they're caught.

Never Enough

Imagine the smallest prison,
That can fit your body,
And still allow a world of horizons,
And possibility,

But only within the bars that you are living,
With no view of what might be outside,
Though, knowing it's the freedom you've always wanted,
Because it always does when you're on the inside,

And no one visits who's not already there,
Within the boundaries of this stifling world,
Oh, and your imagination only thinks about,
What's on the outside, for sure.

You're not alone, alright?
Everyone thinks the same thing,
From their own prisons, both in and out of yours.
That's the f'd up thing about reality.

Summer Hill

There has to be variations,
Of intimacy and depth,
Or I may as well give up,
Living with you til death,

Because then there is no hope,
Of finding by one path,
A truly spiritual moment,
That actually lasts,

Because of the faith,
That you must have,
To change your relationship,
That there's value in that.

And it's not all right,
Nor has it at all left,
That distinctly human emotion,
Of ambivalence.

You Will

The funk you find yourself in,
Is the funk you'll always be in,
And the goal should not be to destroy it,
But to fold it in,

To your most glorious moments,
As a side to how you succeed,
Which you will never do without it,
Because it's something that you need,

Like the baby needs crying,
And water needs to flow,
Things whose value isn't obvious at first,
And which you may never know.

Because, it's not alright,
Until you embrace yourself,
Neurotic paranoiac conspiracist and all.
You're no different than anyone else.

Pleasing

You will never get the,
Combination right,
Telling people what you want to hear,
And never getting it right,

And not realizing that they love you,
And your quirky ways,
Because it's obvious to everyone,
That you only care about today,

When, truth be known, that is very rare,
No matter what you hear.
This world would be a different place,
If people didn't have the fear,

Of not being alright,
In the future.
Of course, they'd also get very little done,
And die young, for sure.

See You Later

There is very little,
That your perfection does not fulfill,
Through your dark and flawless,
And much revealed shell,

To the ideal structure of your bones and soul,
Imagined by my imperfect mind.
Oh, if only I was perfect, too,
That my components might be compatible to thine,

And so that you might give me the time of day,
As I know now you never will,
If only because my humility,
Won't allow me to be capable,

Of being alright,
With assuming I might have a chance,
Because my world is one among many,
Across which I cannot reach my hands.

Don't Worry

Maybe you shouldn't worry,
So much about what people think,
Just a thought, as you redress yourself,
At a word from a dink,

Who has far more issues than you ever will,
And hence his need to take the pains,
To point out things in others, to distract them,
From the fact that he possesses the same,

That he mint not even have if he didn't,
Imagine that he did.
Remember, nothing's real that you haven't thought of.
Is this at all what you imagined,

It is to be alright,
Or did you actually believe,
You would think better of yourself,
After this read?

Sing Me To Sleep

Sleep is not admired,
It's a fatal flaw,
No one ever did anything worthwhile,
Sawing logs,

And if you can't help it,
Take this piece of advise:
Try not to sleep while you're awake,
As a way to hide,

As a way to relinquish responsibility,
From expressing yourself,
Because that's the only thing you have to do,
If you choose to delve,

Into being alright,
If you really want to be,
If not, then please close your eyes,
By all means.

The Start

Yes, I will deface you,
For the love of art,
For the love of myself,
Really, from the start,

But the more the layers,
And the more the nights,
That we are together doing this,
Will complete the sight,

One, day, but not soon,
It needs to take time,
For your new sense of self,
And mine.

And it's alright,
You won't feel a thing,
Until you're torn down,
Or you're a human being.

One Try

Who is the bigger person,
When the one has a pride,
That pushes him to to undermine,
And backhanded remarks, snide,

When the one tries to ignore,
Or, at least, do his job,
Though, it's certainly easier for the one,
Who can afford to be a snob,

And the one reaches out to the other,
As a way to make amends,
Careful not to point out their differences,
And so offend?

To make it alright,
The one has to be sincere,
And the other has to be honest,
When they klink the glasses of their beer.

Location:Vine Ave,Toronto,Canada

Just Saying

The situation you find yourself in,
More often than not,
Moving with people you'd rather not be with,
Not enjoying yourself, a lot,

Not feeling yourself, a lot,
Both emotionally and physically,
Nor other people either,
Is no way to be.

But the alternative is more painful,
Letting people in,
Both emotionally and physically,
Due to your historical situation,

Which was not alright,
Yet, in the past,
Occurring to a person,
Who did not need to last.

Massaging

You may be thinking,
There's things you should have done,
To lead you down a different path,
And real completion,

You should have learned different things,
Stuck with people of a better ilk,
Listened to your heart more seriously,
And glided through life like silk,

Because you're not doing what you thought you would,
While so many, many people are,
And your dreams are the closest things to you,
While their reality's very, very far.

Hmm, it's alright,
Some people weren't meant to be happy.
That's just the truth we all must understand,
Before attempting to thwart destiny.

The Real Perception

No matter what it looks like,
Stick to your guns,
Because no one knows what the fuck,
Are your true intentions,

And every relationship you have,
Is built on trust,
Not in the idea that you exist,
But that each must,

Assume the best of the other,
No matter the circumstance,
Until that trust becomes impossible,
Then you`re no longer friends,

Which is alright,
Because you can't please everyone,
Not because they expect something different,
But because they live on revolution.

Look Out

There will come a time in your life,
If not already,
When you will realize that there's a whole generation,
Not privy,

To what you were exposed to as new tech,
And will not be able to understand,
How lacking in quality what you had was,
And how far they already have,

Come from where you are at the most recent time,
In our history,
Though, so far there's been no evidence,
Of an improvement in technology,

At all...alright,
Maybe except for GPS,
We've really excelled at finding where we're at,
Since, about that, we are most obsessed.

The Cold

The coldness of the wind,
At this time of the year,
Changes the way you look at everything,
Both far and near,

Like when the bath water engulfs you, too,
Or when you're feeling oppressed,
Like everyone you see is laughing at you,
Or when you've finally confessed.

There is no difference, the difference is great,
The chill makes you forget,
All the thoughts you had when you were warm,
And hadn't thought of survival, yet.

And it's alright,
You don't even have to be aware,
Of who you are, most people aren't anyway,
And, frankly, don't even care.

Impossible

Just because nobody gets you,
Doesn't mean you make no sense.
There must be some world, in some time,
Where you'd receive compliments,

Where your ideas would be so lauded,
That you could not show yourself on the street,
Lest you get mauled by a frantic mob,
Believing you have what they seek,

Which is an answer to everything,
Wrapped in a single sentence,
Sought, moreover, in every age,
By every human.

And it's alright,
That you'll never see that world,
No one else will, even in this one.
It's an unfindable pearl.

Oh, Butterfly

A caterpillar lives a full life,
With no expectation,
Or awareness of what she will become,
Is my assumption,

And when she finally emerges,
She is new, but not no longer what she was,
And can forget the life she lived before,
But can't hide it from us.

Oh caterpillar, please be ready,
Not for what you will become, but for what you are,
And take with you all you learned in your present form,
Because all experience helps in the war,

To be alright,
Which is all anyone wishes to be,
And you have to use every weapon in your arsenal,
To maintain you identity.

Sorry

There's nothing more to be said,
At the end of the day,
When you realize that nothing will change,
And so there's nothing left to say,

Until such time that things do change,
Which require that,
Either the change comes from within you,
Or it's a change of fact,

And you can feel elation in either case,
As others try to adjust,
And ride along to improve their lives,
Or be thoroughly in disgust,

That you're alright,
And so sickenly happy,
That you should be taken down a notch or two,
And so be at peace.