I promise I will be fixing this blog up and organizing it more as the days go by. I am still learning more about wordpress and how to use it and also my mind is all over the place and as chaotic as presented here but if you follow me you probably already knew that. I am working on novels, music, poetry, photography, bdsm (oh yes you readers haven’t even seen those posts yet, wait for it) and scrapbooks which I will also post bits about here and there and that will be on sale upon completion.

Also for a $5 dollar donation to paypal -paypal.me/Junseisynn

I can write a mini-short story or poem based on what picture of yourself or something that you took inspires within me to write. I will post your picture and the short story or poem to be featured on this blog and shared to other social mediums. Please keep it PG and if you are interested you can comment your email on this post.


The Sequence of affection

The sequence of affection

Sequence 01- coffee shop
Staring into your eyes will surely be my demise…
Blue as the sky yet you sit right here in front of me
Well drink our coffee , exchange our stories yet it still feels like you fleet from me
I think its because Ive uncovered the truth
You are an angel looking at a man with scars.. well make do

Sequence 02- glass ocean
There are nights where I drown in a glass ocean. Trapped in the past I awake with commotion. How is it that the sea wont carry me to bury me when its your eyes that see?
Youve seen me weak, youve seen me strong but most importantly you never judged wrong… Ill break the glass if it means id save you.
I wont let anything pain you

You’re all that I know

You’re all that I know

So many times the words weren’t there.

I tried to tell you before but it seemed like you didn’t care.

This cool air buried deep in your stare.. now I know

It isn’t that your soul has grown cold

Its that you’ve battled and fought alone

As have I, let me be the one to carry the burdens from your mind

Tell the world your beautiful and offer genuine insight

So many times I wondered if I was to blame..

Why do two souls dancing around the issue make it sound like a game?

Maybe thats one thing one day well learn but today well mask the burn

With sweet honey kisses, prolonged and ever lasting visits, addicted like poison in syringes… I think I’m beginning to feel it

If I told you there was no one else
Its because while the ghosts roam
Colorless , bland, silver and chrome

you’ve become all that I know

At the bottom of the ocean

At the bottom of the ocean


Wait for me at the end of the road with the same bouquet of roses that I gave you years ago, remember? They are probably dead and rotten by now but it’s strange how eerily similar they are to our love, wouldn’t you agree? How did we let it get this bad? We used to take walks by the beach letting the wind take us but now it feels so suffocating. These day’s nothing’s the same.

I am trying to calm myself, I am trying to breathe but the ocean is calling me, it’s taking me away. Slowly drifting in and out of consciousness I try to focus on the dimming sunlight. I remember a dim lit room with the same roses I gave you set on a table near us. They are alive, still fresh, still beautiful like you. Something about the room shakes like an unknowing force is pushing, shoving and re-arranging the scene.

Breathing in, breathing out like I have this down pat and rehearsed. Still the water is gushing in to every opening it can find. Such a beautiful, peaceful and resourceful bit of nature has suddenly become violent and monstrous. The scene comes into view again, we are arguing. Arguing about something dumb no doubt but the expression on your face would tell anyone otherwise. I never laid my hands on you but that night I might as well have reached into your chest and tore your heart right out.

I said something stupid like I always do, you said something stupid like you always regret to do and then… Curtains close. By now my lungs are exploding they have become a symbol to the anger I never learned to control. The blood is building up as if I needed anymore fluids filling up my body. I am choking but im used to choking on the words I never told you. I should’ve told you I loved you before your dreams took you from me forever.

One last scene, I see you laying in the bed. Pills are scattered everywhere like colorful advertisements promoting death. I see you holding the flowers I gave you that same morning against your chest but your eyes are empty. Your soul has left it’s body, where have you gone? That night I learned that I hadn’t become strong enough because this pain was something I couldn’t describe. Maybe that’s why I’m here…
At the bottom of the ocean holding on to those rotten roses. I guess I’m moving on.


The mind’s asylum

The mind’s asylum

No real way to put it, not one bit. It is a shadow that creeps from the corners of the walls to leer down at you from a distance. It is grey clouds with incoming rain but the rain never comes. Maybe that’s how, yeah that’s how i’ll put it. Caged rage but it is never unleashed, karma waits but she never returns, she frets instead. The mind’s asylum where one nerve trips the other, trips the other, trips the other…

Until one day a massive explosion happens and with it’s debris it attracts others. ‘My, what a marvelous spectacle it is to see mental stasis deteriorate before our eyes’

That is what they will exclaim.

Why? Why do we pick apart and dissect each other like insects? Is it a cruel way of looking inside of ourselves? Like digging and digging just waiting to pull shit out instead of a beating heart. What a lovely generation of degenerates who confuse each other with misleading propaganda of how to act, how to behave, how to think, and how to be. That’s another asylum all in itself. A structure much older than either you or I.

The stones in our hands.

The stones in our hands

At very edge of the night we stare at the moon wondering what all the pain in our past was for. Rekindled like a flame that sets way to a never ending inferno we begin to burn with a passion. It’s a passion of misunderstanding, a passion of understanding, and a passion of wanting more. See, i’ve been there before burning amongst the flames and although at the time I was a stranger to understanding it entirely I still felt like I knew.

Why do we love our tragic memories so much? We know it’s best to forget, to move on. To cast the stone toward water but not make it skip through to other side but make it drown. That’s what we should do but we don’t. We hold the stones in our hands even though it is weighing us down rendering us incapable of any sudden movements. We haven’t thrown a single stone because we’ve been holding on for too long.

See, i’ve been there before too holding on to every stone of my burdens. Holding on till my bones ached till I couldn’t stand till it all brought me down to the ground overflowing. I’ve been there before but I made a promise to myself to never be there again. Promise me, promise yourself that you won’t carry your burdens to the other side but that you’ll cast every last stone into the water. Smile at the flames as they burn to an ember, smile at the stones as they drown never to surface again then like your final step before paradise, walk away.

Foot on the gas

Foot on the gas , barely gripping this bottle of jack that’s slipping in my hands

Almost like everything else does, isn’t that what makes it beautiful? For it to be fleeting. Constantly winning and losing, defeated when choosing to be it but here I am fleeing. Foot on the gas, I hope I do crash, Im counting the minutes but forever they last. Im counting the minutes but I’m sick to my stomach. I start hurling out the memories, the present and future like a prophet. Even when the car stalls the journey goes on and on.

You can walk until your feet are bleeding until your throat is dry and the only way to drink is to submerge yourself fully. Purity is our sacrifice and willingness to go on but here I am attempting to stop. Its not a sign, not one I mind but Im constantly trying to intertwine and unwind my mind its like forming a web of suffocating thoughts. They push you forward, they pull you back, sometimes just for a laugh. My foot is on the gas, Im not going to stop until I crash… my foot is on the gas and I’m not going to stop until the walls of my past crash.

Love is not a tragedy

Love is not a tragedy


It’s hard to imagine yourself now without the person you adore more than anything in the world but if in time you are given a lesson that teaches you that this is not the person your soul is meant to bond with forever then you must let go. Learning how to let go seems to be what brings most people trouble, I say screw that!

Walk outside, no im serious, stop everything that you are doing right now and step outside into that deep and vast world. Notice the flowers? Spring is here already you should be smelling the fresh scent of mother nature all around you. Surround yourself with light or surround yourself with laughter they can be one in the same. Being happy is something most often confused with satisfaction. Don’t you notice how some couples aren’t happy until they get what they want from each other? Or maybe how an individual claims he or she will never be happy until they…

See that’s part of the problem because we keep telling ourselves that we won’t be happy unless.. that blocks us from actually being happy. Love is beautiful, it is an experience, it is filled with memories of a person that became part of you if only for a fleeting moment. What has always helped me move in is to think that this love that I had and that is now gone was but a preview of the love that im supposed to have with me, to take with me to the grave.

Remember that love isn’t just loving the person you lost but also loving all that’s around you. If your eyes, mind, soul and all is consistently focused on the negativity, on the loss, on the head aches, on the stress then you yourself will be creating an illusionary black hole that can’t be filled. To let go you must remember that even when something seems to have become part of you it does not mean that if it is lost you are no longer whole. In fact it just means that you gave way to space needed for a new attribute of strength or character.

Fight on, love on, be happy and find the beauty in everything; even in the things that may seem like a shit storm that never ends.



(Not my photograph, used as visual context only)

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