Comfort

And Latvia haunts me at night,
Though it's not even one in the morn,
And out of all my mental fright,
Something can't wait to be born.

I'm running on not enough sleep,
I'm running right out of my mind,
I'm tired of counting my sheep,
I just wish that I would unwind.

I read quite a bit, and let me tell you,
That others will read far more still;
But reading or watching, the many or few,
They can make assumptions and will.

It slows me that I just don't know,
It stops me right dead in my tracks,
It makes me just want be grown,
A skill that I certainly lack.

It all started out just so simple,
So not me, yet me just the same;
I smiled, I laughed, I had a dimple,
It wasn't what I had thought lame.

A few close around me they stood,
Excited I was to belong;
A few I'd hang out with and should,
Though I've had a bonding this strong.

Yet bonding this was all so different,
For bonding alone I sure was,
I wasn't doing as I had meant,
the reasons were many because:

I'd done all the other before,
The bouncing around different groups,
I'd done all the other before,
Hanging with readers and snoops.
I'd done all the other before,
And by all I really mean all;
I'd done all the other before,
Yet this time I made a new call.

There's people here that I am seeing,
There's people here with me I hate;
There's people here that I am seeing,
There's people here with me are great.

And some of those people excite me,
And keep me calm, focused and cool,
And some of those people delight me,
And help me to not break the rules.

The rules I speak of are conduct,
Or treating my peers with respect;
Those rules when broken are frightful,
I sometimes those rules neglect.

There are always people around you,
You are always wanting to see,
And sometimes they're hidden and sometimes they're few,
But always they fill you with glee.

But if you should make that decision,
And spend all your time with one group;
You just might be fried with derision,
You just might be treated like poop.

Because other people surround you,
And some things they don't understand,
And they will be sure to confound you,
With any old rumor offhand.

And then you will start second-guessing,
And those few you love will reside,
In mind far away from a blessing,
That you with them wish to confide.

And as you make more and more guesses,
And as the assumptions they fly,
You'll only be mindful of tresses,
You'll only want to sit and cry.

And even if you go and do that,
And out of your system it goes,
It only returns with the next time,
You hang out away from your foes.

Because of their words that will haunt you,
Not only theirs but also your few;
The guessing will always deny you,
The joy of a sunset so blue.

So here is what I think I'm saying,
And here is how I think it goes;
When you think you only are playing -
There's others will cut off your toes.

Without which you no longer stand right,
And surely then you're doomed to fall,
You'll try to go back, with all of your might,
And wonder "what's worth it at all?"

I'm sure there's a very good way that I am built the way that I am

Sometimes, I don't even get myself.

No really.

You all look at me and laugh;
Sometimes you are amused,
Sometimes you are ecstatic,
Sometimes you are just annoyed.

The point is that you see me.

It takes a very sheltered person not to.

But what does that mean?

I am not the center,
not the focus,
not the point around which you revolve.
I should not be so important,
so overrated,
so blown out of proportion.

Yet you all see me.

Strangely though, that has nothing
To do with what's going on now.

The way that I am built,
The way that I am feeling,
The way that I am hurting,
Right now is emotionally.

No, I haven't been hurt emotionally.
I'm not angry, used, abused,
Or torn or ripped apart at someone else's hands.
Well, I may be, but that's beside the point.

I am just feeling
What guys don't like to feel.
Real.

There's some stereotype bs
That says that boys don't cry.
I'd beat to tears the man that started that.

Not that I have a problem crying in front of other people.
Anyone who has been to youth camp with me should know that.
The point is that I now have all these emotions,
Out of nowhere,
That I don't know what to do with.
But they won't go away.

I feel like I just want to have this massive emotional outpouring-
But I don't know what emotion,
What time,
Who do shove it all on,
Where I should be,
And whether or not it would be right.
For me, for them, or for now.

So instead, I get this jumbled
Prose, randomly broken in
Line, just like my thoughts are
Broken
In effect,
Since I can't bear to
Try to write this out like
An essay.

That would be boring,
And I wouldn't be able to do it justice.

The point is that I'm hurting,
The point is that I'm scared,
To let them go a running,
To let my anger flare,
Or sorrow scream,
Or fear fly,
Or passion parade,
Or tears trickle (or flood);

I don't know what to do
With all the things I feel inside;
The corny part of me knows that
The next line ends with hide.
I know that I am lost,
Afraid and unafraid,
My feelings all are mixed up
In a twisted wind-blown braid;


Andthat'showI'mfeelingwithnofinality...

St. Basil's Cathedral, Red Square, Moscow

This is just a teaser :-)