My New Year's Poem

1- 1-12 - 2013

"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." ~ Emerson

I’d like to think I’m getting better at living through the years.
As each one passes, I’ve surmounted a few more fears
and left behind some tendencies to get tangled up in gears
that slow down my clock and bring little more than tears.

By focusing on my goals and their respective causes,
I’ve found a source of stability between the loves and losses.
It’s offered me a strength that I use to my advantage,
as I try to live with grace, while incurring minimal more damage.

This isn’t about perfection or even being better than others,
but a belief that you and I are only as good as our gutters,
as our weaknesses and flaws constantly stabbing us in the back
like a city that's being flooded by its very own crap.

It’s a tricky thing we’re given when we’re handed the controls,
of a life others half built and may have blindly filled with holes.
Like landmines in our foundation, or a blueprint full of errors,
and we pick up where they left off amongst the comedy of terrors.

Yet we’re expected to make it work like we all know what we’re doing,
like the world has a use for us that we are knowledgeably pursuing.
But for most it would seem we’re all searching for a light
to illuminate the room with the best parts of life.

It’s safe to say where that room is, we’ve heard it all our lives
as we busy our dizzy selves like desperate houseflies,
from the mouths of our greatest minds and the stories they have told,
to the remarkably simple truths spoken by our young and old.

“You have to look within,” they say, “til you’re not afraid of what you see,
because every time you look away…you lose sight of the enemy.
The only one who can hold you down and keep you from becoming
everything you’ve ever dreamed, without the slightest bit of cunning,

just the goodness of love, along with a beautiful faith
that you weren’t put here to be a victim on behalf of the human race.
That there is more to you than this, whatever this is,
just as there is more to love than a lust for hugs and kisses.

To never stop digging deeper like you’re searching for a bullet
that could be infecting parts of your life with x amounts of bullshit.”
This is what they say to the rest of us, who are as clever as cartoons,
always expecting to get better, without putting pressure on the wounds.

~

This is what I saw growing up, and I’d be damned if I followed suit,
so I broke my pact with the devil, and threw the bible down the chute.
I accepted no one’s answers but the ones I found myself,
and began to pay attention to the thoughts that filled my shelf.

I found that many were not my own, and few were even true,
like my perceptions had been catered by a society with the flu
and a sickness had been spreading that was simply called ‘The Norm’:
once it got its pound of flesh, you were bound to be deformed.

So I resolved to make a change, protect whatever I was
from a world that sought to make me accept whatever it does
as gospels and love and the way things ought to be,
like I can’t tell the difference between truth and falsity.

This was all disturbing, but I found a place inside
where I could be myself and I didn’t have to hide
how much I really loved to live or what made me feel alive,
and in this place I found my art…and that’s when I began to thrive.


 I didn’t think I was good at anything for the better part of my life,
but my writing made that line of thinking slow and then it jackknifed.
I felt like I really had something, and it was incredibly fun,
but I also incessantly doubted myself and was incredibly dumb.

I didn’t have the confidence to do what I needed to do,
and never felt the freedom to follow my dreams through.
Eventually I let it all go, because I didn’t believe in myself.
How often do we squander our unvalued wealth?

However, as you see, that’s not the end of this story,
and I have managed to reclaim a bit of my former glory,
and have put it to good use in some interesting ways
that make my life feel like a ship aptly called, “To Better Days.”

There’s a place for my art in the world that I didn’t see before.
It was there all along, but I was blind to the door
and no one seemed to notice my stumbling potential,
so I figured I was kidding myself thinking this was special.

It was my favorite thing in the world and I treated it like a hobby,
told myself to forget my dreams, and that betrayal was ungodly.
It broke my spirit and made me hate all that I was.
My art atrophied in self-loathing.  My big bang became a blasé buzz.

But it never went away, it just got very very quiet,
like I went from flyin planes, to a desk job at the Hyatt.
The itch was always there to get back into the air
but I had to spend my days acting like I didn’t care.

I was a fool to stop it and to think it could be stopped.
All I did was hang an anvil that would naturally be dropped
on my dumbfounded head almost ten years later,
and the force knocked so much sense, it turned my skull into a crater.

Now I write every day, I am happy to report!
Whether poems thoughts or songs, even essays and letters
the words won’t stop coming out! But…long story short,
as time passed and brought experience, I broke free from my fears,
and slowly found my way back into the stratosphere.

It may not always be great and I’m rarely very technical,
but I enjoy what I make and performing is a spectacle
that I can’t believe I’m a part of, it was once a “wildest dream.”
And now every chance I get makes my inner child scream

with the joy of Christmas presents or a great birthday surprise.
I’ve reached a place in life where all the blessings are undisguised.
And I can’t believe the fortune I had in my hands all this time!
Who knew you could make life better…just by making rhymes?

The power of a purpose is that of a resounding call,
calling everyone who heard it to take that leap despite the fall.
I’ve heard mine loud and clear now, but it was there all along,
and I do not think I’m alone in that. I think we all have a song

that we are meant to sing, that would tell you where you belong,
so you can live without the constant, crippling fear of being wrong.
Because none of that matters, not one judgment is eternal.
The system is designed so you can escape any inferno,

from the one in your head, to the violence you feel and see,
but whether you go up or down is up to you entirely.
You sow the seeds of your future, or you let them be sown,
but whatever you end up with is only yours to own. 

The world is a crazy place, no doubt. Of this, we’re well aware.
Some are born in opportunity, while others in despair.
And while that might make some dreams far-fetched, greatness is always possible.
The abominable only exist as long as allowed by the indomitable.

~

  At this point, all I hope for is to become more of what I am,
to better my self, and if I can, to help my fellow man.
Because I know something of his struggle, I’ve been on both sides,
but you’ll find me smilin in the middle now, cuz I know it’s just a ride.

I cannot ask for much more from life (if you could only see what I’ve been given),
but I see how much more can be done with the storyline I’m livin,
so I try to bend it in more alignment with the universe’s laws,
so I may do that work much longer. God willing, Insh’Allah. 

_

Sticks & Stones ~ The Untold Story

 Down below is a video of my latest performance, which was on Thursday at The Opposite, supporting Bangkok Poetry. 

 The poem is old but I've never performed it before. As I told the crowd, I wrote it in university for an assignment. I read it to the class as a part of the assignment, but this was before I was aware of or into performance poetry so I definitely didn't write it with this art form in mind. But once I got back into it these past two years, I started going back through my older stuff looking for pieces that might be somehow WORK as a live performance. This is one that caught my eye. I added it to my list a few months ago, and even recorded an audio file (as I do with anything I'm getting ready to perform) and occasionally listened to it in the playlist to start the long process of internalizing it. Because it's written in blank verse, these poems take time. But if you can start puttin little pieces in your head well in advance, that can make the crunch time (when you  know you NEED to have it ready) go a lot faster and easier. As it was with this poem. 

I've been thinking about performing it lately. It came to mind as a possible foil to the poem I did at Bed Supperclub about kids. Before I knew what Junior wanted me to do exactly (how much time/how many pieces) I was preparing myself for any possibility. So sticks and stones were on my mind. 

But that night only called for one poem, so I put it back on the back back burner. And then when I got word of the next poetry night--but only after someone nudged me when I said I wasn't sure if I would do it or not And I WOKE UP--then I finally thought about what poem I would do. I could've done the Montecristo kids poem, but...I've already done it twice now, and three times in a row.......kinda makes me turn my lip up. I have issues with repetition. Even THOUGH none of the people from the first two performances were probably even at that poetry night....it bugs me. Maybe it's cuz I think it's bad for the poem. To use it so flippantly. Like it only has so many uses in its life and I don't wanna use them all up too quick. Does that make sense to you? I really have no idea, but that's kinda how I see it. The more you use something, the more you see something, the more you are exposed to it, the more it loses its power, or its power over you. This isn't true for EVERYTHING, but a lot. I'm probably being overly cautious with this particular example, but...there is more to it than that as well.

 Anyway, so yeah, I didn't really feel like performing that poem again so soon. Which brought me to remember the poem down below. And as I soon as I thought about it, I was like, "Alright, cool. Let's do it. The time has come." And I started practicing it like a week in advance. Even changed a few words around and ADDED a whole section to it. There's a verse/paragraph that wasn't there before. I had the idea to add it months ago and it still appealed to me so I did. It's a pretty cool performance piece now. Very solid in content. And, the performance of it itself went down really well. They seemed to really like the piece. And...I messed up a little bit, but no biggie. When you mess up on a light poem, it's way more forgivable than when you mess up on a real serious or heavy poem. Speaking for myself. Even though I changed the pronouns to you for some reason. But yeah, it was cool. 

Check out the video, lemme know what you think. PEACE!

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Sticks & Stones:

The Untold Story

 

 9-24-2002

                                                        “If he only knew now
                                                                                       what he knew then”
                                                                                                            -Eddie Vedder

I remember a time
  when the word “play”
   wasn’t sexual
 and “fudge” 
was as close as I got 
     to the “F” word

  It just 
   felt 
  wrong

I remember a state of mind
  in which it was logically possible
  to jump out of tree
   while gripping the thin plastic handles
     of a white grocery bag
  and parachute 
             to the ground

  Only after the sudden landing thinking
    “I must not have been high enough”

I remember a place
   where my imagination
     was my imaginary friend
   and I spent the whole days
     outside trying to keep up
         with him
  as my real friends and I
 blew things up
     with rock grenades
 (sound effects included)
 and fearlessly
       shot ninjas out of trees
    with lethal guns made of
          sticks, toilet paper rolls
and electrical tape

  We were fighting for our lives

But I know now
we were fighting
for our childhood

I remember my friends.  They were brothers, Franky and Marcial.  They lived up the street, and I played with them almost everyday during the summers, yet the only memory I have of them being inside my house was for a birthday party.  The acre of land around my house was enough. That land was ours.  The trees, dirt, and dry, brittle bushes, were so rich and fertile, we planted our imagination in them everyday and grew battlegrounds budding with forts made from the trees’ discarded skin.  It was magical.  Sometimes when one of us had to go ask permission to go to the other’s house, which ever two stayed behind would close their eyes and chant, “I hope he can. I hope he can. I hope he can. I hope he can,” until the other came back with an answer.  And every time we did that…it worked.  It never failed us. The tighter we squeezed our eyes closed the better. “I hope he can. I hope he can. I hope he can. I hope he can.” That was how powerful we were.  That was our magic.

I even remember one time where we wanted to go up to their house so I had to ask permission but I didn’t wannu cuz my mom was in such a foul mood that day that I knew she’d say no and then just by being near her I might spontaneously end up in trouble. But they really wanted me to come over, so I was like “alright, I’ll go ask but don’t do it, don’t do I hope he can.” Cuz I knew it wasn’t gonna work and we were so amazed by this power’s existence that…I didn’t want to break it, and if there was anything more powerful than our collective hopes it was definitely my mother’s anger. And we really only used it in the most urgent situations, like…a new toy, and that day wasn’t anything special so I didn’t think it was worth it. So I was like don’t do it, and they said, okay, we won’t. So I went inside and asked my mom and was like Hey mommmm, do you think I could go up to Frankie’s for a little bit and she said…“Sure,” and I was like !!!!!  but I couldn’t do that so I was like 0_0, and kinda slowly backed out the door and as soon as I got outside I ran like crazy to Frankie and Marcial like OH MY GOSH, YOU GUYS, YOU WONT BELIEVE....and as soon as I got over the hill I see them sittin there…

“I hope he can I hope he can I hope he can I hope he can I hope he can…”

It worked every time

I remember when they moved.  I remember thinking how strange it was that families would just “move.”  It made me happy to know that my family would never do that.  I knew we weren’t like them.  We would always live in that house that we moved out of a year later.  I didn’t know.  I didn’t know I would never see Franky and Marcial ever again.  I didn’t know what we had, that we were magicians.  I didn’t know that power would weaken like the bite of guilt hidden behind each curse word, or what “innocence” even was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I'm not sure exactly when this was, but it is the house that is in this poem. I took this pic the last time I visited that town in...late 2004/early 2005, somewhere around there.  When we lived there (15 years earlier) it looked so different. Grass in the yards with climbing rose bushes and various other flowers and small trees. Quite beautiful. But at least you get to see somethin of what I'm talking about. I still love that house. Still wish I could teleport it, just like I did when I was a kid.

My Word II: Carved in Jello

I will never have time to do everything I want or “need” to do in one day. I know this. So instead I do “the best” I can. Which is always good enough. No matter what gets thrown my way in the course of the day. I take the lemons, the grapes and grapefruit, the oranges and I make some punchy fruit punch! But no matter what I’m given I put things in ORDER of (seeming) IMPORTANCE. I have to. I have to prioritize and keep those priorities straight. But by straight I do not mean INFLEXIBLE, cuz THAT is NOT the WAY to LIVING life. I just mean I keep them in order, but that order DOES Change, instead of being carved in stone, it’s more like it is carved in Jello. Fruity Punchy Punch Jell-o. And here’s the thing YOU need to know....you CAN have great influence over this order. All you have to do is speak. Because odds are you are on this daily list, but YOU HAVE SOME SAY over where you are on it in the course of that day. You just have to communicate. I am far too busy to check on everyone in my life everyday and make sure they are doing okay, before I get on with what I “need” to do! The squeaky wheels gets the grease, my friends, so if you're wonderin why you haven't heard from me but you haven't said nothin, now you know! Squeak Up! And please do not barely tap on my shoulder when you got somethin big or heavy weighin on you and THEN Resent me (or Life) for not comin thru and bein there! Say what you mean and mean what you say. Make yourself clear when you NEED a friend, just do it, for good news or bad news. The odds of me saying no to a heartfelt expression are incredibly slim. I know it’s not always easy to do that, to say when you could use an ear or a shoulder, even when all it entails is a phone call, BUT that doesn’t mean it isn’t the best and right thing to do for yourself. The easiest way is rarely the best way. Just speak up and make sure I HEAR you, and I’ll be there. If there’s really nothin big goin on and you just wanted to talk or hang or whatever, then say that and be understanding if I have to pass cuz of my other pressing priorities than can Weigh Me Down if I don’t handle them! Just be clear with me, I’ll always listen and I can sometimes read between the lines but....I would not want to have to rely on that in this day and age of my beautiful busy life. I do not have much time for guessing games. Hence, why I am single.

My Word I : Rock of Gibraltar

I really don’t have any desire to play games with people. And more often than not, I Won’t! EVEN IF you try to start one with me. This isn’t because I can’t, I Have Been SCHOOLED! I can play games like your grandma plays monopoly, only my teeth aren’t false and my bite takes more than finger tips! As it should when people try to play me.

Nowadays though, I would just rather rely on open communication and forthwith honesty to guide me through the seas of relationships and life. The only card I'd like to play is the card of Understanding.

For me and how I live—the choices I make—you might not always like it, but I promise you there is good reason for everything I do and say these days. By good reason I mean NOT Selfish, bullshit reasons. Good reason. BIG reasons. Reasons I CAN explain clearly to anyone who is willing to listen or has patience to see the circle of cause and effect close on its own. You may not want to understand my reasons and see both sides of the issue (aka The Whole Story), but that is up to you. I have even less desire to argue with you than I do to play some lame game. To each his or her own. You are free to do whatever you see fit, as am I.

I’m not saying all I do is perfect, I’m just saying I am NOT Reckless! Not at all. I am far from careless. I am now so centered on my principles and beliefs that define the human being I desire To Be that almost nothing I do steps off that rock of my Gibraltar. Nevertheless, while I firmly believe what I do or say will have good cause behind it invariably, I am not saying HOW I do or say these things will always be the best way possible. I am human, I will make mistakes in that department for sure as life throws beautiful challenges in front of me. But here’s what I will do. IF Upon reflection I see that I could’ve/should’ve handled that moment or situation better, I will do something no one seems to do: I WILL Admit it. Up front. Without fail. You will see.

This is My Word.

What's the Point of Having a Blog if ya don't BLOG!

Today I did something awesome.

The sad part is that this is something I could've been doing on any given day for the past several years now. But I haven't. Maybe not even once. I used to....but then something happened, and I forgot.

I forgot about so many of the awesome things I used to do! And this is just one more small tragedy to surface (like a dead body) in the wake of 3 years of turmoil. Crazy.

(the picture is of my homeroom 5/3. Not sure why they don't let me type captions on here)

What I did on purpose today though was a direct reaction of something that I did unintentionally in a class (5/2) two weeks ago. Something that left an impression on them. AND ON ME!

What I did was tell a story. It wasn't just any story though, it was one of the most personal stories of my life. A story full of death wishes and suicide attempts and self-destruction and pure suffering that seemed endless at the time. All of which culminated into a force so strong that I finally ran away from home one day.

This is the story that I told them. It is the story of my first breakthrough, my first life-changing revelation, my first BIG break that came by way of my own two hands and an empty house I broke into. More superficially, it is the story of how I became, overnight, a good boy, a good student, and a (hopefully) decent son. At the time this story begins to take place.....I am ten years old.

I left out most of the ugly details. You don't always need those to convey the FEELING you are trying to get across, especially when you're talking to privileged kids who've BARELY known pain, much less the kind of pain that would push a toys-r'-us kid to pray for death on a daily basis.

Instead I told them the condensed version, but still with Feeling. And I focused on the point of the story, the transformation that took place on that day and thereafter. And while I told that story, for 10....15 mintues, I had 20 kids in absolute silence looking at me at the same time. In the back of my mind, as I looked around the room towards the end of it, I was like "Wow." This is the power of my story. This the power of a story being TOLLED.

I had fucking forgotten that! I cannot remember the last time I told a significant piece of my story in a classroom setting! Maybe back in America, maybe my first year at this school...I'm not sure.

Isn't that crazy!? I got stories that can move kids! I got stories that can move people. Not just anywhere! IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION! Towards an easier way, a clearer path, a better life even! One with more Sense and LESS Suffering! Or AT LEAST reaffirm what they already know! And put it into words that they may have not heard before. So they can see themselves and their own lives with a touch more clarity. Just a touch more! But that kind of touch...that kind of clarity can save people from themselves.

This is what I'd lost, one of many things I forfeited in order to go through the throes of a 3 year relationship that was failed from the get go. Most of which I spent trying to redeem my self-esteem and ego after being cheated on for the first time in my life. Boohooooo.

If had any idea what all I threw out of my plane to try and keep it "up in the air," like it was a fucking life and death situation, if I had any idea what I inadvertently sacrificed, I would've cried for entirely different reasons. I woulda torn the wings off with my bare hands in anguish and revolt!

Cuz, really, what I did without even knowing it was throw my SELF out of the plane. I wasn't flying solo, I was flying hollow. For miles and years and miles, over nothing but icy looking waters. A ghost of my self was flying that plane, while my shadow made sure she was comfortable and orgasmic in first class. What a joke.

It's cool though. I get it now. No hard feelings. I was as much a victim as I was a propagator. I was as much a passenger on Air Futility as I was a prop on an engine. Smoking as it may have been. Smoking HOT as it may have been. I know what I did and I know why I did it, and thankfully most of my reasons were pretty good, pretty sound. She knows what she did too, and...even if she doesn't know the exquisiteness of the pain she helped me paint...oh well. Maybe she'll get there, maybe she won't. Maybe it wasn't for her, maybe it was for me to go through, somewhat alone....as I often felt I was when I was "with her."

Anyway, getting back to today....

Today I instigated what I accidentally evoked in 5/2 a week or two ago.

You see, we have this stupid period built into the schedule called "Guidance Period," and what guidance period is for exactly no one really knows. The only thing we do know about Guidance Period is that when the school has SOME ducks in a row, they tend to bring in guest speakers and our kids go and listen to them talk about whatever during that period.

Well, today, just like last week, there was nothing planned by the school. And...as I was sitting there getting ready to go see my homeroom for this waste of time...guess what I remembered? Yeah, that remarkable "incident" that happened in the class next door. Where I bared my heart and an ounce of my diamond soul. And I thought....why not have a Story Telling Time? So that's what I did.

I went in there and wrote it up on the board and explained what happened in 5/2 the other day and what I was thinking might be able to happen today. The only contingent is that in order for me to Tell one of my stories, I have to be asked a question that calls one forth, or so I told them. Which is kinda true for my life in general too!

So I said, "It's up to you guys! Once you ask me a question that points to a story in my life, you can decide if you wanna listen or not! I don't even care if a couple of you would rather play with your phones or whatever, but if you do listen then that's cool and I'll tell that story the best I can....you just gotta think of a good enough question that will hit upon one of MY life stories."

BOOM! A kid's hand went up! This kid named Joey, such an awesome kid, so much g0d-damned heart it almost scares me! His hand shoots up and he asks, "Have you ever been dumped?"

God I love that kid. It's like we rehearsed this!

I thought for sure I was gonna have to weed through like half a dozen lame questions before they GOT the point. AT LEAST! But nope, right off the bat, Joey knows exactly what he wants to know! Guess why? Guess what happened to Joey not so long ago? Yeah. Poor kid. But....he seems to be keepin his chin up, which is more than most of us do at that age. Or have done since!

So today I told the story, for the first time in I can't imagine how many years, of how Leslie Shultz dumped me in 7th grade and how that set in motion a series of events that would reveal one of the most DEFINING aspects of my life! Let me tell you, it's a damn good story!

From one end of the arc to the other, I had those kids' ears in my hands! And, after so many laughs and perfect moments of attentive silence, by the end of it, they were all like "Whoaaaa." And I was like, "Yeahhh." And Joey, who came all the way up from the back row to sit next to me and hear this story, Joey reached over and gave ME a high-five!

Upon My Return

(OLD blog post)

May 16, 2009 - Saturday ~4:17pm

Currently listening:
The Sun And The Moon Complete [2 CD]
By The Bravery

Current mood: trepidation
Category: Life


Fuck, it's weird being back home. I'm alone in my room now for the first time. Lala was nice enough to pick me up and keep me company. Now I'm walking around my room, unsure what to do with myself. And I noticed my hands were even a little shaky. Thought I should just sit down and write it out. Even though my computer is now being weird and printing the letters a LOT slower than I'm typing. Which is a new feature and really Annoying. Fuck it, I'm still typing fast, if there's typos, so e it.

But yeah, I feel a little...unsettled at the moment. A little ...out of place. My room is my room but it feels a little different. Like I noticed it's naked for the first time. And this transition, this transition is a hard one, I think maybe harder than going back home for the first time in two years. I think that's what's got me a little shaky. It's a hard transition, like I have to shed a whole shell of myself to fit back into this life. This Way of Living.

At first it doesn't feel "Right," like I shouldn't be doing this, like being here is not good for me, but it is. But that shell I speak of, what is it? It's more than a layer of skin, it's a whole frame of being....that comes.....that comes with being in America? That comes with being back "Home" in that environment and That culture?? That comes with having to ReFit myself back into that life??? Yeah. Yeah, that's it. I did, I re-shaped myself to fit in again, I had to do that, at least to some degree.

There were so many times that I felt AWKWARD when I first got there, like I didn't know what to do or how to "act natural." Like who I was in that context the last time I was in that context....had so little relation to whom I had become. I had to Re-form my "American self," for lack of a better identifier. Just to exist in that environment and breathe without thinking about it. And now, after hosting that or being hosted IN that shell, I have to do away with it again, just like that, and be...well, what seems like "Normal" to me. Funny huh?

In the end I guess, when this mission is complete and I do Return "for good," I guess the ultimate goal, and in fact, the inevitable goal, is that I will have to marry those two worlds/selves together within me. I will have to reconcile the differences and merge them both. That's only logical. I can't possible DISCARD what 5 (?) years has done to me here. There's no changing how I've been changed. But I have. Inexorably. I see it in the way I see things back home, so many things that I never even questioned, now seem...ridiculous.

It scares me, though I suppress it now cuz I'm only there for a few days so there's no sense in...REbuking this and that travesty of sense around me, but it scares me cuz...I see so many (more) things that I won't be able to be A PART of, that I will not willingly subscribe to because I CAN'T Just Accept it! And that scares me a little because....what if it's TOO much? What if I can't "deal" with American/Western life anymore!? Right now, I cannot say I have any desire to live out in the woods on my own or feel forced by conviction to leave that country AGAIN but......"for good."

None of this is really new for me though, these thoughts and perceptions concerning the world around me, the SCALE OF IT is what is changing. As I was writing this a song I wrote a long time ago came to mind. The first half of the lyrics read...

"I have a problem with people who say too many meaningless things in a row
And I have a problem with people who pray to a God that they don't really know
And I have a problem with how the world works and how we're living our lives
And I have a problem with all of the jerks that are armed with fists guns and knives

I have a say in the part that I play And I'm not gonna help anymore
I will not be a follower, a number, a victim, a numb little whore...

So COUNT--ME--OUT
I won't be a part of this
COUNT--ME--OUT
I don't need a Therapist
COUNT--ME--OUT
Most of you don't even try...

I'm--the One--Who Wants--to be--ALIVE!"


...I guess that about sums it up :-\