have you ever unburied buried treasure?

my eyes on the prize
sorry soil falling from my sorrier hands

the long haul has been going well
the cold dirt in your hands reminds you of another night
one spent with people
not spent by your lonesome

there's a flame in front of me and in order to extinguish it, i have to run through to get to the fire extinguisher. the fire is luke on my scorching body. sweat. at the very core of each droplet of distress is concentrated passion for an out of reach prize. said trophy is first place material while i'm at the back of the pack. you channel your integrity into the belief that passing this obstacle will attain you your irrelevant wish. this application is present in everything you do. everything is tainted by a saucy, thick film.

no way to compete if the competition is already over. especially when there is always someone better than you, you should never try. you tried once. you've tasted hope and now that it disgusts you, regurgitate your feelings and hope it gets mopped up by the janitorial spirits. they will consume you if you do not hold it together. no one can see you cry because we are taught to be emotionless. i once felt that i was the only one capable of feeling emotion. nothing yet has convinced me otherwise. in the darkness, the illuminations of the television on my blank, white walls inform me of the errors in my ways. they tell me how i should fix them. i'm obliged to follow.

your eyes are on the prize but you are looking through the wrong kaleidoscope. look and see what your goal should be.

don't let a victim preach to you. don't be impressionable because impressions lead to sick, mixed messages. and those only lead to self-deprivation on so many levels. you'll fall from where you were once sitting pretty into a catacomb. you will get lost and trapped. you wanted to live forever and this is where you will stay.

oh, fortunado. how did you last as long as you did. so blind to the clues. so blind to the obvious. things shrouded your sense of perception and i can relate. we can relate.

there's a storm coming and it will end humanity. there's one thing i want to do before my life ends. how would you feel? how would you feel if you couldn't? if the key that opens up all doors is guarded by a mirror, how can we tell if the key is really there? we rely on faith. because obviously looking at ourselves is no proof of a key. maybe we just don't have an answer so we make one up. and that myth becomes fact over time simply because the children who grew up with their beliefs based firmly on wife’s tails will explain to their children that there is a god and if you don't go to bed this instant, you will break a commandment.

i prefer to think that just mindless praying is a sin - if there are sins. i mean, technically sin has to do with good and evil. and that good and evil can be broken down, also, into morals which are based on opinions. so what's right to me is not always right for another. what i felt was right for me told me i had to leave. breathing. believing. an unexpected expectancy.

your eyes can be on the prize. but sometimes it takes your sidekick to explain to you that there is more to life. never underestimate someone that means a lot to you. i would say that when the shit hits the fan, they will be the ones that will have your back. other times, you have to suck it up. buckle down, get your work done, go to sleep, wake up early, go to work, come home, do work, eat, sleep, rinse and repeat. stop feeling emotions, man. don't do it. it'd be nice to think that being stoic would eliminate sadness. but without a sadness, there is no happiness. and without either, there is emptiness. so by feeling emotions, we take a risk. the goal is to have more positive feelings than negative. when there is an imbalance, you drop everything you are doing and leave this fucking place and delete your messages, and throw out everything, and take only the people that you need with you. you laugh now. but when the times come, you won't know what to do.