I Have Been Judged For Being Me

I have been judged for being me

And so have judged others.

This guilt has driven me to madness

Which is itself a struggle of accepting myself.

People deserve to love what they love.

To enjoy the things that make them feel.

I have related to many things

Some of which are piss poor

While others are too exalted.

The truth is I just want to exist.

To be free in being who I am

Without feeling the need to judge who I am.

I am beautiful

A darling who dances freely.

Fearing my own judgement

Through the eyes of others

Has caused me great pain.

Learning to forgive myself

For being myself

Is the hardest journey yet.

Reality has never met my standards.

Better yet

I have never risen to its level.

My dreams are confessions.

My words

Solemn testimony.

I know this isn't any good

I'm not writing it to win any awards.

This is how I deal with who I am

And steadily grow

Into the person I secretly dream or being.

For love of me

This is why I live.

Ever hoping to accept myself

Without worry for those

Who are not me.

I find myself wondering

How good of a person am I?

For those tempted to reassure me

Shut up.

In all honesty

I know I am not as bad as I would like to think.

On the other hand

I'm not very good.

I lust and hate

Not sins

Cheat myself and others.

I want more

Always more.

I am never satisfied

My imagination runs too wild.

I wanted god's throne

And took it

Even as I denied wanting it.

I wanted the world

And took it

Even while spilling rivers of blood.

I am lost in mythology;

Obscured by religion.

I am prideful above all else

And overwhelmed with shame.

I do not write for the masses.

As much as I might want to.

I write because I'm empty inside

And hope I can fill my void.

Even now

I have lost the purpose for my being here.

So many things;

I will never share with you.

I am angry

Wrathful towards mortality.

I loathe my own weakness

And rage against these constraints.

I resent reality's failure

To keep up with my imagination.

I want life to match my dreams

Whatever the cost.

Yet I am flesh

And I am not entirely able to forget it.

So I weave back down

And try to touch my own existence.

Here people are alive

Demons rule

Gods wear masks of piety.

Civilization breeds slaves

And I understand how strong that word is.

People live their lives in service to others.

They are given enough to subsist

But are never allowed to excel.

Their bounds are marked

Their lives designed.

We were thankful for what we are givin

And are incapable of seeking more

Though we may dream

We do not believe.

Though we hope

We dare not sure to seek.

Our world is manufactured against us

And we cannot find our way out.

Our gods are wicked.

They are the ones who live on high.

Those we envy

And look to for hope

Revile

And pray ill on.

This is our world;

Our reality.

We are in fact slaves

And we would kill each other first

Before those who keep us here.

I once believed we could rise up.

Now

I think part of us will always fight

To keep others down.

Too long in the mires of lost gods

To be able to put our species first.

This are we doomed,

Damned to die because we cannot move past.

Bound to...

What do I call it?

Such stupidity as to make me wish we would all die.

At least then there would be quiet.

All the arguing

Hating

Damning and persecuting.

All the aspects of our species

Put to death

And life allowed to continue.

No more awareness.

No more consciousness.

Only the blissful ignorance

Of existence just existing.

Then again

I don't know how to give up

And so I keep on hoping

Even against hope.

The heart wants what the heart wants

When I came here, I was young in my godhood. I danced wildly through the earth, and then I burned up as I crashed through reality. I am always the main recipient of my own words; every lesson for me first of all.

- I wrote this

Who am I to be asked for advice?

My life hasn't gone as planned?

Hasn't developed according to normal standards.

I am a beast

A monster

A free floating child

Trying to find their way

Across the cosmos or terror.

My friend's heart.

My friends' laugh.

Do I have a say in such things?

No.

As much as I might have hoped

Each person is in charge of their own life.

They breath

Pray

And lust according to their own needs

Fantasies

Hopes and desires.

I myself am free from others

And am twisted up

Just like everyone else.

No one can tell us who we are.

Only we

Can create our own reality.

In the end

All life ends in death.

Trying to make a standard by which we live

Is nothing but a vicious lie.

One intended to force us in to the status quo.

Be free.

Which only means

Existing as your heart wants to.

Don't be controlled.

Don't be rulled.

Don't be the property of others.

You matter beyond what your days might register

You are the sole meaning

Of your own years.

We are all but pawns in your own dream.

So live

Live deeply

And just sow what brings you peace.

One day

If we all pray

Everyone will understand.

Then each person will be free

And we won't have to worry

How others react

To our existing.

I have tried to create everything

And in so doing

Lost everything.

Filled with hate

Filled with anger

I have burned most things I have hoped for.

Life is cruel

And we are its saving grace.

I look to a future beyond us all

Far beyond the last human breath.

A time in which a soul breathes

And dreams of worlds

In which all souls live.

I despise the flesh

And worship its needs.

I love the world

And hates its ways.

Humanity dances and loses sight of the dance.

I hold a dream

In which the imagination reigns free.

People are born by time

I hope this changes one day.

Without time nothing matters

And in such a state

We are made free.

If nothing matters

We can do anything.

What we settle on

In eternity

Is a surprise to those who do.

In youth we burn down the world

In age we seek a simple rest.

I have hated and I have loved.

I have wept over us all

And lavished upon my own greed.

Life has no directed meaning.

Life has no dirceted purpose.

Yet I have believed

I have lived

And I have died.

I cling to a hope

In which the individual is made free.

I see beyond this moment.

I am lost in my own fantasies.

I live a thousand lives

And die a thousand deaths.

I believe in our imagination.

I live for my own creativity.

Life means more than someone over another;

I despise when someone stands up.

Take away conscious thought.

Take away present awareness.

Remove the self within the community

And you have the life of one who sees clearly.

It cannot last

Doomed to fail

But in that moment

Clarity shines.

God upon the mount;

Messiah upon the alter;

Understanding of what is

You value all as your own momentary breath.

Then you weep tears

Over your own corpse,

And in that corpse

All living resides.

I cry because the world hates

I cry because I hate.

When I was 11

I sat down and tried to fix the world.

I didn't know what was wrong

And now I am sad

That I tried to understand good and evil.

Pain resonates throughout existence

And it breaks my heart.

Oppression demands its stay in the sun

Incapable of understanding its own nature.

Rivers of tears fill heaven's throne

And no one sits there

To comprehend it's source.

I walk up

Ignorant and prideful

Unaware of all that is

And believe it is a simple fix.

I lay down some commandments.

I see they do not work.

I amend a few things

Add a few things

See it doesn't work.

I mold and meld

Strive and claim

It all falls apart

I can't understand.

Nothing I do

Fixes the world.

The world doesn't need me

I'm part of the problem.

It all comes crashing down,

New stuff rises up.

Time flows on

Humanity is forgotten.

Life

It lives

And I lose track of it.

I see my own frailty

And start to wonder at my own demense.

I will die

And I will live

Not by cosmic judgement

But by my own condemnation.

I hate myself

And I love myself.

I cannot comprehend me.

In me is everyone,

And in everyone is me.

Only I can save my own soul

For only I can forgive me

Of the crimes against myself.

I draw to an end

What can be said

That has not been said in every generation.

Life ends.

Our works end.

All we do

Stands in account against ourselves.

Only what we hope can see us through

Can speak in defense of what we do.

How short it falls

When weighed against the rest

I weep bitter tears into the night

A rabid dog

Unaware of its own condition.

No one can save us

As we cannot forgive ourselves.

Blood and rage

Judgement against ourselves.

I linger on

Unwilling to let go.

A desperate thought

Unfinished

Unrefined.

I want more

I need more

I break down

Like a child before god.

I don't have any answers.

I don't know what to do.

All I know

Is this isn't right.

All the tears.

All the pain.

All the wishing

And praying

And hoping for better days.

I was a child once

And I had dreams.

Life hurt me

And I had done nothing wrong.

"why do you hurt me?"

I asked God above.

"what did I do to you

While in my mother's womb?"

So I fought god

And cast it down

Only to find myself

Sitting in the guilty seat.

A proper ending never comes.

A poignant closing statement

Alludes the purest of our spirits.

I am filled with rage

With which I know not what to do.

A cauldron of indecision

Desperately trying to escape.

Living breath to breath

Moment to moment

Nothing more than the soul beside me;

Nothing more

Than the countless souls before me.

Untold of lines stretch out in front

Weaving new stories

And more stories of the same.

I cannot reach them

Beyond this moment now.

I am bound

As they are bound

As you are bound before me now

Who can say

Who we will be a day from now.

Before ourselves

We have yet to find ourselves.

A lost dream.

A sullen cause.

A hope beyond all hope

A person in life.

Only we can defend our names.

Only we can defend our purpose.

Nothing can protect us

Not the stars or moon or god.

We alone can speak up at our trial

And try to understand what we have done.

For it is not a trial before our peers

As it is a judgement before ourselves

As weighed upon our many lives

Stretching across

Vast eternity.

- myself, previously known as Andrew, still trying decide who I am now and have been

No one has ever seen me.

I create masks to hide behind.

Each person gets there own

A special me just for them.

No one ever asks for more,

Can I be mad they are unaware

Of what remains hidden

Behind my eyes?

I am a dream

I silent illusion

Lord of the air

A vacant space.

No one has ever seen into my heart

No one has ever wondered at who I might be.

No more than the version of me that they require;

The first answer they get

The summation of who I am.

- me