Too much

My situation is ridiculous. Roommates. Marriage. Kids. Craziness.

I'm sharing a bed with four people. I'm like Charlie and the chocolate factory.

My smiles per hour are slowing down. My roommate just walked in at 3:47am. He's way behind in rent.

These are probably thoughts meant for private, oh well. Should I write a poem? I've gone a little off the reservation.

Morning has come

And my feelings the same

Numb to the touch

Of my outer view game

Fools have a walk

That I might have taken

To bring to the surface

And fully awaken

The monsters inside

That I've ran from at night

But it's dreams that won't stop

The harder the fight

Cut from a cloth

That's truly it's own

Connect to the thought

That we're not just alone

I reached out my hand

The world did speak

My craziness gone

My inherited meek

Awgggggggggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just words. More come but they're not strung together correctly. Into the sink hole. The trying really kills you. People hate a trier. But you've got to try right? You've got to try to do it without trying and that takes a lot of trying. My mind is now erupting. Frozen. More thoughts but they're like rambling clouds of dust that disappear the second I touch them. I'm so far from funny right now. Maybe so far that it's funny? If I'm 180 degrees from funny then maybe all I have to do is make a move and I'll be closer.

I can't stand the thought of people right now. What kind of sentence is that?

Your walk distracts me
My hearing has gone
My words want free

Hello there

When am I coming back?

Maybe today?

Maybe

Comedy as of 2013

Comedy for me now. It keeps changing and that's how it should be. When you get to the point where you know your material, so much so that you don't care about your material. When you're free. When you're funny. I see glimpses of this. Become free and become yourself. This only happens after years of prison. Years of discipline. Years of indiscipline. You can't just do it. It has to be given to you from the comedy God's. Make it right with the God's. Give them your sacrifice. The God's hold the key. Don't fuck with God! Funny is serious if you want the real shit. 

The meaning exists yet stays unknown

Time spent dreaming is just a start
Look at the meaning, it's miles apart
But something comes together
It's more than the sadness
It's black but it's light
And it can lead to madness
But I'm being careful
My men have tied me to the bow
I see all the beauty
And am blind to what's foul
And my mouth still tastes what it sees
From the eyes of my heart and it
Hangs from the trees
And it's fire from the spark is still lit
I'm here
I still have my fire
I can't leave
I'm green but it's changing
The whole thing is different
With causes that spill
Into other areas that before were unknown
Telling
It's telling
Someone is speaking
I try to stay quiet
I'm into the realm
I'm no longer waiting
Or rhyming
As you can now tell
It's in the moments like these
They all coexist
I can stay in the garden of choosing
But even that's not entirely true
And all dreams must have a lie to begin with
Mine is the same
And so now I'm back to my old rhyming game

I'm still alive

Just wanted to let you know.

Darkness is me

I judge other comics. They say that you are what you judge. I judge this comic for being unfunny. Why? Why do I care? Because I'm scared. I look at other comics and I hate them. Why do I hate them so much? I hate that they have no self awareness. I hate that they're delusional. I'm that guy. I look at other comics and say what is that guy even doing here? He doesn't belong here. I'm scared. I'm scared that I don't belong here. I am what I judge.

Does that mean that I should stop judging? Fuck. Don't you have to judge to know what you like? Don't you have to judge people and make a decision. You see what they are doing and you see what path they are headed on and you judge that. You analyze the person and you judge what path they are on. Then you decide if you want to end up where they are. And then you take that path or you get the fuck off that path because you don't want to bang your head against the wall like that unfunny fucking comic is doing. You see that guy who doesn't write and it fucking scares you. So you fucking write. Then you see the guy who fucking writes and he still sucks. And that is fucking scary. There's nothing scarier than than saying to yourself that you would be funny if you just wrote more but then when you do write and you're even less funny. That's some scary shit. When you stop procrastinating and you start doing the work and you still suck. Where are you then? You used to have an excuse, you didn't write.

You don't have anything now. All you have is you. And you just aren't any good. That's a fucking dark place. Where do you go then? What do you do when you've done everthing you can do and you still suck? That's when you step into the darkness. When you realize you're all alone. You're fucked. You have no one and you have nothing. What do you do then? This is the comic.