Uncontrollable.

A mind

Totally uncontrollable

Thoughts come from everywhere, and cannot be stopped

My mind

Is uncontrollable

Stresses, ideas, emotions, commands, demands, everything coming in split second motion

To stop would be peace

To stop would mean death

To slow would be appreciated

To slow would be ridiculed

To speed would be productive

To speed would cause destruction

I must go on

I must press on.

Think, breathe, think, move, think feel, think, speak, think, calm, think, Scream, think, cry, think, ache, think, breathe, think, love, think, help, think run, think, see, think, share, think, think, think

Think.

Uncontrollably

Particular Melancholy

In the night there is silence
In my mind there is screaming.

Thoughts left unfinished
Questions; unanswered.

My imagination is running wild
While my heart is pouring out its sentiments

With each new thought comes
A new idea

Springing to life like a tulip
In April

The idea brings a friend,
A question.

The question haunts,
Taunts my soul and tortures my mind

But I do not have the answer
So enters the particular melancholy

A feeling I know well.

Steam Engine

I hear the train's whistle in the night and heed its warning,
Feel its yearning,
And follow it running.
But it moves far too fast

I see the child smiling in the light and share their pride,
Join their games,
And help to raise them.
But they grow far too fast.

I hear my lover whispering and dote on every word,
Grasp on to his emotion
And continue to love him.
But he leaves far too fast

Go

Talent.

Resides with the soul

It is locked within the reliquary of emotion and discipline

A shining orb of raw skill resting

Waiting

holding its breath until emotion and discipline open the gates of freedom

Some will never find their talent.

They will also never experience the full spectrum of emotion.

They will then lack the motivation and discipline.

Find them

The ones without the light in their eyes

Inspire them

Ignite their passions and souls

It is time to start

Go forth and start the fire

Bring out the art and life.

Emotion and discipline

Now's the time

It's up to you

This is your charge.

Now go,

Inspire.

A Letter.

To: a small, thirsty girl who drinks too many tea-cups and writes in pen, I say:

The light that dances through the glass in my window pane
The wind that combs through my hair
And the rain that saturates my skin
...Makes me think of the girl that I miss so much.

So on this day of gloomy skies and brisk breeze,
I'll stay inside and drink a tea-cup
Write down my thoughts
And send her my love.

Through the light
Through the wind
And through the rain
It flies

Only to land on her shoulder
Waiting for her to listen
To it's sweet whisper:
"I miss you"

From: a boy with constant music and a brain full of chemistry.

Not Mine But Still Good

One of the issues I have with “gay” in general is that it is an identity defined predominantly on the basis of sex. You’re gay in the eyes of most because you derive pleasure from engaging in sexual acts with a member of the same sex. There is a very important issue, though, that I think is lost in that translation, one that I fear is either not realized by some or forgotten by many. That’s the fact that being gay is not just about men enjoying sex with men or women enjoying sex with women; rather, it is also—and I would argue more importantly—about who one’s emotional attraction is to. It’s not entirely about loving sex with someone; it’s about loving all of someone.
I will be the first in any conversation to proclaim that men are beautiful. The male form is absolutely amazing. Every inch and intricacy is gorgeous. But, what’s even better than the physical aspect of it is the man inside the body: the one I like to hold come the end of the day, the one I like to talk to on the other end of the phone, the one whose company makes me feel more comfortble, more valuable and more loved. It’s an emotional connection with men that defines my concept of “being gay.”
It’s unfortunate, but I’ve found that that realization takes some growing into. There’s a maturation process that has to occur. Most gays (or any young sexually naïve individual for that matter) don’t wake up instantly enlightened. They don’t come out of the closet and step immediately into a mature sense of self. Fact of the matter is that for most, coming out tends to happen at the crux of their sexual frustration. They are at a developmental roadblock—stuck between a culture of heterosexuality dampening their sexual exploration and an immature notion of where they see their sexual identity going. Eventually they hit a tipping point, and they come out. Begin sexual liberation. Flood gates open. They’ve stepped into a whole new world. It’s time to explore.
That’s where promiscuity usually happens. An entire new set of possibilities are easily accessible, and the temptation is there to binge, and indulge, and keep going until you’ve been burned enough that you have to back off and reassess. It’s not until your “naïve and slutty” peers have been used, abused, and sufficiently jaded that they make the transition from the “quantity” phase of their lives into the “quality” phase of their lives.
I think you’re in a tough position, because it sounds like you’re way further along on the maturation curve than your peers. I would argue that it’s not a bad place to be, but then again, it’s also a lonely place sometimes.
For all those who continue to skank it up, I’d love to step in and intervene, but people need to make mistakes and learn for themselves. All I can do is step back, take care of myself, and continue saying what I believe in: Men are beautiful, and the best thing we can do for ourselves and for each other is to find someone and love that person as much as we possibly can."