Overrated and obsolete,
what is a label, apart from
An Image of how people see you
Separting you off into categories
A brand, a mark
vaguely defining you
Not as an individual,
instead assigning you to a group

A label is society
telling you, you are no different
individuality is just another word
to ease our simple minds
and feed our thirst for originality

Whose to say
you can't choose the label you want
whose to say
you can't brand your own
Whose to say
originality can't be a category

I say they're wrong!

So there it is,
I'm an original and that's my label
society can see me how it wants
the term is just another word
expressing my personality

Writing at it's finest

The idea of Writing:
It's the same way you build anything, start from scratch. First you begin with a thought, a small piece of your imagination and then set it to paper.
This thought can be found anywhere. Maybe you see an advertisment on the side on a bus, or maybe you see a person wearing a funky color, maybe you encounter a string of thoughts that lead to this one brilliant pearl of an idea. It's as simple as that, you start writing it down with as many descriptive words as possible and then magically this solitary thought pops out of your head, on to paper, and flurishes into a perfect masterpiece. Then your creation sells for more than it's worth and receives a rep for the greatest piece of writing since sliced bread.

The truth about Writing:
First you start with the idea, develope it, and then you decide it's too big of a chore to actually do anything with. You store it in the back of your mind until one day, when you realize you've done nothing with your life, you sweep away the cobwebs, refine, and polish that old idea and begin fresh. For the first time you decide it's worthy of  being writen down, but of course your words are misfit and your sentences are sloppy. Eh,who cares? You lay down the foundation, cement the poorly shaped cinderblocks, and from there begin to build. You slave away in your quarters, devoting every spare minute you have to this piece of shit you'd like to think is art, in hopes that once it's complete you'll be able to make something of it. Maybe it's not as bad as you think it is, maybe you just need to add a few more pages, maybe fill in the holes with some more cement? Vuala, months later you've extracted an original thought and gave it life.

To Conclude:
The process of writing is being able to create life. You'd like to think that it would come out as beautifully as Adam or Eve, but in all reality it comes out looking like Frankinstein's Monster. The process is time consuming and exhausting, and the result maybe ugly and hard to look at, nevertheless, it's your masterpiece. You've created something out of nothing.

Blocked

Blocked by a wall
detached from society.
I say, set it to fire
Tear it down
anything, please
to rebuild this ground

I've soiled my image
and unknowingly put up this wall
it stands through storms
whirls of emotions and all

The world, always moving
working and rebuilding
with sweat running down
Me, always alone
staring through to mankind as I frown
Transparent as it may be
the wall stands high
separating us entirely

Enclosed with the emptiness
I keep trying to revert back
to a time where I was amoung society
before reclusion turned my back
but this wall seems untouchable
for one person alone
and my choice completely sustained

But I'm holding my flag
I know you all can see
I say, truce?

Let's light a fuse
and burn down this wall
there doesn't need to be
something inbetween
you, me and the rest of society
Please help this poor soul
break this barrier
and set me free.

Silly Boy

Immaturity is the nature of boys. As you see, a boy is still a boy when his big idea of moving is motivated by the size of a city’s “party scene”. Silly boy, you’re going to have to grow up at some point, and when you do you’ll find that drinking and having fun isn’t what life is all about. The essence of life is simple: it’s about living, breathing, seeing what’s in front of you. It’s not about meeting new people when you’re drunk, or going out to the bars and hitting on women, or rolling a blunt with your friends on a Saturday night. Sure, that might make you feel young and free but there’s so much more that you have yet to see. It’s not about the bright lights of the city, the amount of entertainment, or the number of college kids around. It’s about having real life conversations with people, intellectual conversations that last in your memory.  It’s about making friends who are good for you, and knowing what fun really is. If your motivation for moving is exploring the world for the right reasons then by all means, the world is yours. I advise you, young rebel, to be wise with your decisions, don’t do it for the concerts, don’t do it for the drugs, and don’t do it for anyone else but you. If you want to move so badly, make it a point to taste new foods, learn different cultures, read new books, hike new roads, surf new waves, study different religions. Living is learning, so maybe soon you’ll see, not everything is about the parties.

Make fun of me all you want, I’ll listen and learn, though these are you’re mistakes I’ll be sure to choose my path wisely. I might not be as rebellious as you, senseless child, but while I see the world through sober eyes you’re looking at it through a pair of beer goggles.

Let’s be honest here, moving to a new city isn't going to change a thing as long as you keep up this naivety. Maturity grows from realization, so remove those goggles and let the sun shine in, but until then…you’re still just a boy.