A Different Description

I am tired of the life I once tried to live
No reclamations. No proclamations. Just misses and empty meaningless hope
That I shall never, let get the best of me.

Lived under the shadows way too long. Firing this belly for a high and mighty lift off. But first I have to cure my fear of heights without anything but me my flesh feeling the strong winds pulling this big frame in erratic movements. Not knowing where I will fall. But I want to fall. But I am too afraid to fall. Wanting to be caught up in a storm so I can be let down by the eye of the calm of nature’s nurturing natural ways of things. But am I ruining the balance of nature by not trying to

My words kind of rusty. My mind full of empty hopes. I butcher English with my pen at times and even my dyslexic fingers of word piecing and transactions. Signing with an invisible insignia where I hope someone can fully understand. But at times I cannot understand. But I let it all out so I can make myself understand in a perhaps misunderstood kind of way. Hence me switching math with all letters and words with all numbers making a problem that would make the best mathematician pull out all of his hair and dig his nails in his head till he digs in his own brain giving himself a lobotomy. I was always best with history anyways

Add a maybe A. D . D to my requiem of mental résumé . But is it the A . D. D everyone thinks it is?. Analyze it for yourself

And before you hit yourself in the head on this rambling of a ramble incarnate of an irritating kind. Relapse only to be cured for good and make a comeback and tell me that I don’t make sense of making cents even if I had even not a penny to my name.

You do know that I respect anything you say well even if you say “Cows are pink and flamingos are made in the image of tomorrow”. I would ascertain you as normal as a crossed eyed snake with three arms two heads eight legs and a fin for swimming in the alabaster of misaligned malignant provocation of a leper hearted mass warranty only good for 90 years or seconds depends on if you are alive or dead. If that makes no sense at all?. Good

I know I know. All the past prophets are looking down and slapping their heads with their hands and sighing for me to end this. Just know confusion is a weapon if you use it the right way.


By the way……

Does this even make any sense?. I am still trying to put the pieces together, Only the brave may enter my realm. And I know who you are.

Then again I could use A Different Description



Written By,
James Darwin Smith II
3/1/10