On Desiring to Venture About

I have many doubts and questions surrounding why it is that I love what I love.
What I'm talking about is Japan.
As far back as being 8 or 9 years old, I've had a fascination with Japan.
I used to blame my infatuation with Anime and Manga as my reasoning,
but that isn't very relevant anymore, since I hardly watch or read these pieces of Japanese pop culture.
With further thought, I've come to the conclusion that it was never those portions of pop culture that pulled me to Japan.
Maybe I can blame my grandparents, having lived there for a time when my dad was young.
so is it a social factor of my upbringing? seeing many souvenirs and hearing stories from Japan in my delicate years are the reason?
I might have been able to blame this obsession on my family when I was younger,
but I don't think that holds much merit now.

I'm my own person, at least I like to think that I am, and after so many years I'm still quite obsessed with this place and its culture.

which bring me to my thoughts now, I am infatuated with this place because of many things, I think.
the culture fascinates me, it's exotic.
the language is very intriguing and I love learning it.
the above serves to explain that
this place is different from my own place.
a vastly different culture than my own
a foreign country where they don't speak my language
and a place where people interact differently than they do here.

the clincher is that, I've never even been to Japan.
which raises this fear that my infatuation with this culture is like that of a small girl's crush.
In that when I am finally able to visit Japan I'll see the ugly side and I'll suddenly snap out of my delusion
and then never want to return, ever again.
the exotic feeling will fade, and so will my infatuation with Japan,
this is my ultimate fear.

but does this fear have any grounds?

Without Vision

we swing and we rage
we stand and we cower
we scream and we whisper

warring, raging
screaming and laughing

at nothing and everything

we act immortal
while we’re dying

we survive on liquids that parch us
and foods that empty us

we swing and we miss.

we’re blind
and we’re dizzy

speaking peace and spitting hate
we are the shore’s waters
tossed and turned, spun and thrown

staggering, tripping
spinning and falling

we grasp at anything

but find nothing
and we wonder if all we are
is alone

thinking, reasoning
fearing and dying.

When I Say Time, I Mean a Lacktherof

My fear is large and formless

shape shifting

like a shadow that doesn’t get stamped out in the light

it looks like darkness

it looks like death

it looks like loneliness

and it looks like people

it grows like anger

a small flame that feeds this formless entity

no light penetrates

a fortress i don’t want seen

i reach out in vein

all i do is in vein

because my pride

is what i clutch inside

fear of you

and fear of me

being swallowed by the tide

while others stand tall

i see my fear

i see my shame

a towering wave

will pull me out to see

my fear

in a perfect form

like water

filling all the cracks and openings i haven’t closed

i can’t figure out, where it was

that i became 

what i sought to protect

Who Looks Down

when the dead
buried their own dead

who was left standing
covered in mud and dirt?

fear is a consuming feeling

the roots using the rotting dead
as nutrients for the growth

twisting around my heart
squeezing me until i can hardly breathe

i can hardly think

who are the rotting
who looks down on them?

where do i lie?
in the pit
or on its edge?

who looks down on me
and do i care?

do i hesitate
in the door
will i make it through
or will it slam in my face?

i can hardly think

but i have my resolve
i have made my choice

the fear
is now something i can start cutting away.

i won’t hesitate
i won’t procrastinate

so let me rise
from the pit
in which i lay 

On Escapes

she sang to me
"Failure is all i saw"

failure is all i know

she swayed toward me
this was a dream

she was a nightmare

sing to me
about the corruption
of our past

sing to me

so out of key

she filled the atmosphere
death was in the air

dripping
beads of fear
down my temples

who was it
who sang

this sweet
pulverization

lend me your ear
to hear

lend me your eyes
to see

lend me your heart
to feel

let me construct
what isn’t me

from all of you

hypnotized

she swayed me
to that palpable rhythm

"martyrs we never were"

selfish, we dawned our masks

"murderers we’ll always be"

mirrors, reflecting reality in denial

killing you
killing me

masks of mirrors
staring into each others
infinite hallways

always hiding
never confronting

what we were

killers in fear
hearts in despair

let your voice ring forever
in my ear

"let me run
set me free

basking in my
tacit escape”