#myramblingmind

[jojomojx]

Be Not Half, When You Can, A Complete.

Why be half,

When you can be whole?

Why stop yourself,

From achieving greatness,

At such full potential?

Can I blame society,

For the mindset that has be placed,

Or can I say,

That it is your mind,

That I should take a bigger concern towards?

.

Have you not noticed,

That many love poems and wordplay,

Always mention,

"You are my other half,"

Is that why,

We're always only in halves,

When in reality,

Only you can complete yourself?

Can I now also blame social media,

On the ability of it,

To mold and shape many of our minds?

.

I've always believed,

That we are individuals,

And that we don't "come in halves"

But instead we come in one,

As one.

Maybe intimate love,

From a very small standpoint,

Is fucking toxic.

Think not?

You feed yourself with these statements,

And you devalue yourself.

Who do you become,

If not the person,

Your partner wants you to be?

How do you spread and fly,

If you have no wings?

[jojomojx]

“I Play; King of Hearts,”

I Play,

My King of Hearts.

Red Hearts,

Surrounding his sword,

At the borders of his card,

Four-cornered,

And yet,

He swings it recklessly.

For he knows,

He won’t hit any of it.

I adore the Heart, I really do.

.

And this is why,

See,

The heart, unlike the soul,

Can be broken into tiny pieces, and given out.

So I’ve always believed,

That, honestly,

The heart does more than just merely beating,

It cares, show concern, shower love.

.

Like molding clay,

You can choose to give whoever you want,

However much you want.

And that’s where,

Both lies,

Beauty and destruction,

Working hand-in-hand,

In perfect sync, in undisturbed harmony.

.

But, here lies the catch.

Once given, expect it not to find it’s way back to you.

For,

The pieces of your heart,

Remains with the holder you have given.

You will have a slight vacant heart, yes,

But, the people around you,

They have a piece of you too.

.

Sure, sometimes,

We give out too much,

And saved not much for ourselves.

But,

Time, wouldn’t be the only healing factor.

Will, stronger than the winds of doubt,

Strength, unwavering like the lighthouse at the end of the shore,

Support, like beams under a structure,

And finally,

Time, ticking with each second,

Shall fill your heart full once again.

.

Have I learned my lesson, you ask?

Yes, I have, the hard way.

But, sometimes,

Ignorance is bliss.

Despite however hard,

The world may try to stray my stride,

I shall continue to wear my heart on my sleeves.

Throb with love, I shall,

Ooze with confidence, I must,

Glaze with self-love, I will,

Burn with passion, shall the fire never die,

Beat with the rhythm of the world, yes I will.

Let it change me?

Not a fucking chance.

[jojomojx]

It's simple, it really is.

"So...we just....go about, that what you saying?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying,"

"Hmm, then what about the memories?"

"They're just memories, and that's all,"

"Gosh, all these quotes and all,"

"It's fucking us up,"

"It really is,"

"Remember how we once used to say,

The past is nothing more than the past,"

"Hmm, General Us was good,"

"Really good, not just good,"

.

"So we begin now?"

"Yes. Any remorse, sadness or anything?"

"Much. Much of it,"

"Well leave them at the doorstep,"

"Ha, how I wish for it to be THAT easy,"

"It is. Power of the mind, remember?"

"..... Alright. Just....give me a minute,"

"Not a second longer than that, kay?"

.

"I'm ready,"

"So am I,"

"Let's do it,"

[jojomojx]

You'll Die Alone.

There was once,

I sat and asked myself,

"How would I survive in this world,

And who would it with me?

I wonder who I'd marry,

And who I'd date too,"

Silly, naive, little me.

There was only one person that'll enter 6 feet under with me,

And that's me.

.

So, I asked alot,

About being alone,

And why do people say,

That being alone is sometimes,

Being a loser.

When, in some sense,

Being alone,

Is being the ultimate winner!

.

You don't have to worry too much on planning,

And who'd show up and who won't,

What should you eat,

Where should you go,

What should you do,

Need not to know.

For when you're alone,

You decide,

You go with it!

You only have,

And want,

To please yourself!

.

Come being alone,

Comes self love.

Comes self love,

Along comes,

Confidence,

Esteem,

Courage,

Peace,

Hope,

Happiness,

And meaning.

.

So, really,

What's there to lose,

In being alone,

When in reality,

We're only learning,

Who we are,

And what makes us,

Us?

[jojomojx]

Numero Dos.

Numero Dos,

The second choice,

The not-so-good,

The “I’ve tried my best”,

The could-be-better guys,

The least watched.But,Despite all of this,

Numero Dos, Never.Stop,

.

Fight,

And fight,

And fight.

Never stop doing it.

Because,Dos’, we know this,

We aren’t the best,

Neither are we the worst.

But,

That’s where the pain lies.

.

We know this,

We didn’t do our best,

It could’ve been better,

It would’ve been better.

Train; as if never won,

Play; as if never lost,

Because,

Numero Uno is the best,

Numero Tres is the worst,But,

Numero Dos,

Ouch.

Not good enough to win,

Not bad enough to lose.

.

So,

To all Numero Dos’,

Don’t.

Stop.

Fighting.

We are not just fighters,

We are:

Underdogs,

Survivors,

Warriors,

Don’t have to be in the spotlight now,

It’s okay.

But, when the time comes,

Bless thy eyes upon us,

Watch them go further than Uno would ever go,

Nothing’s gonna stop Dos.

[jojomojx]

Be there to see it.

Why is it

When we are happy,

Excited,

Caught in the moment,

We don't see it?

The fault that makes us,

Who we are today?

The obvious wrong,

The stigma,

The ego,

The who-we-are,

That we thought

We always were?

Why must it be,

That we must be sank,

Destroyed,

Crushed,

Broken,

Shattered even,

Before we see what's wrong?

Why can't we just,

See it in the first place?

.

You may say,

People change.

But I raise,

Doesn't that include you too?

And if so,

Don't that make change

But of a two-way road?

"How much should I change?" He asked

"However much you feel necessary,"

"How much would that be?"

"I don't know. I am not supposed to,"

So if I change,

And you don't,

How do you suppose

Anything to work at all?

.

Are we not

But just mere humans?

Making mistakes as we go

Changing, learning, growing,

But,

They say,

Don't walk the same road twice.

What do they know?

Life is a road, yes

But who said you can't take the same road twice?

Silly you, your statement

Poorly said,

Dimly lit,

Shallow pond,

Small room,

Tiny mind of yours.

Or is it mine,

That is tiny?

[jojomojx]

Silly me.

"How does it work?"

I asked,

Curiosity filled my head

Anxiousness ballooned

"You don't need a plan,"

He replied.

"Just go with the flow,"

"Bah, rubbish,"

I said

But who'd knew

How silly I was.

.

Plan

Plan

That's all I told myself

To always have a plan

"To fail to plan,

Is to plan to fail,"

Once spoken

But then again,

To try,

Is to fail.

Why try,

When you think of failing?

.

Much as,

To live,

Is to die.

So why live?

Why not?

Stain not the names

Love, Beauty, Pain, Suffering,

Trudge through,

Crawl if you must

But never stop.

For trying is to fail,

And failing is to learn,

Learning is to experience,

And experience is to be better.

.

"So no plannings?"

I asked myself

"No plannings,"

Walking into a road

Not blindfolded,

Not dumb,

But now wiser

"Shall I walk again?"

The question arose

"Maybe, maybe"

"But what about the broken glass?"

"Is that your concern?"

"Yes"

"Make that not of a concern,

But as a lesson,"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

[jojomojx]

Seek peace.

Strike a match

Light a fire

Burn an incense

And stick into the ground

Say your prayers

Say it loud

Think of your hopes

See it clear

Cloud not the eyes

The eyes of the mind

It's okay

To tear up

It's okay

To weep

Speak your prayers

In hushed voices

Whisper,

Murmur,

Mumble,

Say it

.

"Cry not on the regrets,"

They all say

It's easy for them

They're not in your shoes

They're not feeling the barb

Digging, tearing, ripping,

Your soft, delicate skin

Tearing away what's left of you,

What's left of your soul

Whatever, that is left of you.

.

How broken one can be,

To say he is broken?

How broken one must be,

To say he needs help?

How battered must the road be,

To be said it to be rough?

Is it just a phase,

Or would it be a winding road,

Down to your own Hell,

That you have made

In the absence of your attention

To the demons you forgot

That resided in you?