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I stumbled on a question recently and I was very botherd with the outcome. About a week ago I sat down to write a poem about myself and I tryed to invision objects in place of my personality. Example: A boy who love skateboarding = skateboard, A girl who loves art = A painting, ect. Nothing seemed to come to mind. Then I am lead to the thought what have I done with my life? I come to the conclusion that I have done Nothing..... Nothing at all. Am I only known for tragedy? To be more precise the suicide of my brother? I wonder if I should regret all the times I brought up the subject to mere strangers and the people I know. I had thought I had more friends until the occurance of my brother's death and then I realized they had no more words for me.What do you say to someone after such an incident? The things I remember form that day haunt me as well as my life before and after. How could I stand infrount of his casket and watch people poke at his corpse? How Could I just stand there and politely ask them to stop? I should have turned savage on them, the people I called friends. And then at the Hospital in the room where my brother laid dying nurses and doctors laughed and carried on while tending to him. And me in a chair holding his hand with a lonely line of blood coming to a stop at the end of his finger, as well as the pool of blood on the floor. I never thought blood was that red and how the nurse casually kicked a white sheet over it. I didn't even have the time to hate myself for holding my tears for him, not knowing what had happend. That was my pride. I should have cryed instantly upon knowing my brother was in the hospital. Then again at the funeral, no tears until the very end... standing ther in front of everyone speaking about my brother, at that moment I was forced to realize he was dead. And the thought that breaks me down is that he didn't love me or think of me enough to stick around. I hate that I am writing my raw thoughts but to make these lines art would be a cover up and I would mask it with innuendo so no one would know what I mean. My bother and my regrets are the main things that run through my mind. So how am I to make something of my self when i can't consentrate on the most simple of things? Everything I lost is in hagerstown and I feel no connection to my brothers headstone. I don't understand how people can bring flowers to a place that means nothing to the person that has died. A grave yard is not a place of pleasent memories, its a place of tears of witch I do not shed. How could I even want to feel a personal connection with his tomb? But when I pass my old home I have feelings emence emotion almost enough to make me cry in the viewing eyes of others. So back on track, what is in my way of progressing? It has been made clear to me that lingering thoughts of the past is something that plays a big part in my problem. In fact most of the problem is in my head. If I would stop analyzing myself and just move forward I would do the things I desire. I see today that there is no piont in getting overwelmed by life, but try to tell me that tomorrow. Although readers may be lost I have made a little break through in my mind and it has caused some insperation. I have deciced right here and right now I am going to buy a piano and learn how to play it. If only that would solve every life problem I THINK I HAVE. I most likely won't buy a piano but I wish I was distracted so easily from my problems. Ok,enough! im done dickin around with this ring around circle of nonsense...... On to a solution ......... there really isn't one... Im always going to have problems regardless of how great my art work is.... beautiful/ ugly I am.....how much money I have ......ect........ I already know these things but it's nice to remind your self that if it wasn't this shit im dealing with it would be another kind of shit to deal with...... personally I need to get over myself







Now I feel like I have to justify myself for writing so much about my brother. It's something I don't talk in depth about so it just seems right to get it off my chest in some way. ahhhh venting is such relief