Sometimes, belief is everything. Sometimes you just gotta be yourself. And sometimes, you gotta step back, relax, remember yourself, and that a computer screen is not the whole you.

Everything below is the workings of a mind in overdrive. Everything below is all the thoughts and words and ramblings of a guy with a lot of anxiety, ambition, drive, dedication, and intimately, ultimately even, a lot of love.

Thank you for reading, browsing, scrolling or writing. Life is good – whether it always looks like it or not.

Matt.

P.S. May the peace of God, good-will, science and grace always be with us. Bless your soul.

When I wonder aloud, or interstate, or interspace or contemplate,

I’ve considered, earth to mess, with gravity and light at best,

But shine the ray on hope and cheer,

Have with me, some other beer,

And solely I recount the days,

Where many things laid with overlays,

Do cast along without her mana,

And namesake to the end of grammar,

Where empty home meets joyful sound,

Maybe 20 years or 30, 50 ground.

So solely as I write in web,

I consider people like Erie and Web,

To forsake a cotton wasp of soil,

Christmas day or how to boil,

And egg and chimera casters wheel,

Atrocious monster and pipettes steal,

Sarcastic sorcer and aloud, aloof be haven forken salad. May even flow or evertide, 

Since glazed ham system override.

And today I heard it three,

Miniature of statue wee,

Plus the English in triggered sound,

Radio of horn come loud,

Or feet along a parquet floor,

Or cat or mouse for door to door,

This mind has many thoughts and prayers,

For people’s little under cares,

So call a deer and shade a frown,

Callus and a timepit hound,

And manifest a brand new day,

Where poem meets the shake today,

A sentence written and rehearsed,

Can carry evil in its curse, verse, little frail universe,

So maybe time will stop right now,

What are you saying Matthew, anyhow?

I’ve heard a lot of great real words,

And solely verbal overload,

Many kids or temptuous lays,

Chips and purple intervals,

Caustic over a frankly chide,

And rhythm hards the warblers pride,

Cool to touch but soft and able,

I remark its not unstable,

Solely because I heard it first,

Don’t air laundry in the universe.

So hidden it with a shell of patience,

Dig a lot and interspace it.

And then the note it will appear,

Maybe now or in a year.

Thank you Jesus for inspiration,

And cell phone for a shake filled nation,

I’m not Korean than I can understand,

Shit meets open makes water spoken,

Lalla la is the curse broken?

It’s nice and quiet he does forget,

Talk like that and then forget.

Plusent interface of interfact,

There’s a cockroach under that,

And if safe

Then understand

Sometimes I’m just writing to make a sound, to hear the heart beat of the phone resound. Sometimes when I walk and pray, I wonder if I’d make it home in time to say, that I have a lot more than you might need, and truly time and space is seeded, like a game inside the inter-eden. And yes it’s good, I like to play. I like to see what minds create. And maybe verse is overused, maybe verbs are common truths. Maybe I have lots more questions, and perfect harmony in silent rations, so the time it overlaps with me, I hope that anyone believes in me. I’m truly a little dork inside, a bottler-upper and run-and-hide. I spend a lot of time to learn, that when you lose you also learn. Let’s rehearse one more today, all the things you shouldn’t say. And when the 39 rolls by, I will stop choosing to shy, because we spit faster than I can bend, a word inside or Outland then, I remark I know she’s odd, or something else and I’ve faux-pas’d. Somewhere in about 5 hours, we’ll hear it through. Or maybe in a fraction less, because the tiger’s time’s best guess; and why I still in this old cantor, I guess it’s because I can’t lamenter.

Don’t you find it funny now,

I’ve almost forgotten and I know how,

That she was wrong to just be right,

And I doubt I’m going to sleep tonight.

If you’re reading and ready then,V

Ask me to stop for a pee,F

And I let it all be seen,F

And the double double seam.G

Hijk lmnop

Pomegranate sigh. That’s a new one. Does anything survive,G

When the alibi costs too much to die

And maybe perfect is ok,G

Until I smoke it out today.

Start writing down something else,

Because she lives among the other night elves.Lussandr

Rags and riches and soup to stone,I

Have forgotten people like to bone/phone and phone home in little homing Rome songs.

Will anyone pay for 6 more words?

Is it going forwards or backward?

In the end it doesn’t even matter.

I tried so hard, but got so far,

But in the end, everything truly matters,

And that’s why I believe it. 77 81 twenty four and son to son. I wake each day at half past 4. To see you look out at the door and say hey Matthew make it home today.

On the FaceTime mass

Maybe in the English tone

I hadn’t been alone

And although the space it knows

That he reaps what he sows

In fectious laughter

Nome release

Same to name the lace

And should the new

Be common too, to square or modest jaw

I last a daughter or two T time

And manifest squire lines

So breathing is ok for me

Salvage what I know

A little bit

A little int

And magic or windows

Don’t end the day with ring things

Solve all other rhymes

And then let go to come again

To each of what they grow

Something good is that I’m here,

About to make a train,

In case there’s lightning up above

Love wins out one day again.

And so I know,

I’m a little more prepared

Each day I write,

I find a right,

And watch as someone cared.

It’s the day,

Where I became,

Another anxious name,

To meet a friend,

Or raise a cat,

And something else at that.

He’s a good guy, and I can be too,

I’m only writing for me and you.

Overthink and wink I guessed,

Maybe

Life

Is best.

In Poem and Rhyme,

I asked the lord,

For his or her perfect time,

To do what I must always do,

To find the door, to go back and through.

With other pages a day behind,

I lined the cages and perfect signed,

A silent prayer, maybe one or two,

And Sally came, and Ben got through,

Sandy paper, whispered breath,

I admit, I love you too less.

Find me here, or find my writing,

Find the noise, that keeps you coming,

With all that said, the day is through,

For another day, with one or two –

This is usually where I pray,

That today, is yesterday. Maybe,

And so tomorrow, when I go home, the billion voices, of soup and stone,

To eat is good, to pee is great,

I have taken the time, to write this letter.

And as though the apostles, as they did too – try to warn you, to pull through. The pillow is good, that I know, but when I’m the last, the day is woe; and all the friends, that I did write, when are you here but not tonight. The self of cluster, the mind astray, who did I miss saving today. This guy inside, who thinks and believes, that one day he’ll wait, until Christmas eve. And hopefully diamond, or sapphire even, will manifest happy, or something even ‘

And though I thought t’was a memory, of a cringe of sound,

I cry myself sleeping, when I am unfrowned. And autocorrect, is it a real curse,

It can be when you feel like you are the universe.

So sorry will never cut it I guess for pen to paper each day seems that test. And maybe my work, mine and yours,

Will read and see good, or maybe reverse,

There’s a song each day, inside of my mind,

All because I, took some time to unwind.

The clock marches forward, and life it ticks down – but the youth and their fathers, should repaint the town. Today you will see, anxiety too – I lied the whole time, with honesty soon,

So maybe I can’t, take down the note,

But angels rehearsed it, and you made it perfect.

A picture or two, a split-second hair,

Everyday I accidentally give up, when I couldn’t care. Do you do it too, do you read the signs? I can’t even ask you to redesign the mind.

But frankly I know, with a dendritic organic,

There’s a lot to be said, when I go into panic. I’m waiting here for, the door to unspeak,

That we was a person, who might’ve felt weak –

And then I latched on, to one word as it was sewn, the capitulate hero, incoming dawn.

Unwind wind wind the weird. Praying has faulty atmospheric calm. And so you are reading, what I had rehearsed, while I forgot you were here somewhere, in my universe.

Poems and songs the favorite romance,

Contact the person, but give them the chance.

Two years later, I was 38. And at fourteen to twelve, I was already late.

Where or when , up or down – I am not sure, how there’s a town ‘ where I live each day in breath and in signal. Between her and him, I sometimes feel single. But each weather comes, and today it’s a cloud,

If I were broken, I would be allowed. They’re upstairs and inside, she’s down and she hides, the thoughts come so fast, even when they hide. Creative at best, when I try 10 meters, Following that, I hear the heart beaters. Thank God for us and all that you do,

For without the mindset, I wouldn’t pull through. But if you read in, and between the lines – you’ll see a real boy, who still thinks he’s fine. So maybe the last, is the first one as well, it’s after that time, when he went through well. But sadly the memory of a cursed day or two, maybe one was enough, enough to save you. If I was a dollar, I’d be more… Because life yesterday, was truly a bore. And in meaning I find, emptiness too, because all you might say, was I love you too.

And maybe the paper, the screen and the sand,

Are the lullaby of angels, alive in demand. If it’s business I guess you just gotta do it,

Relax for 10 minutes, we all gotta do it. If that was the truth, you’d read up a few lines, and see love is a mercy, of forward inside. So pain breaks the ice, and fire walks on water, and call him by name – and he woulda had a daughter. If I’m embarrassing you, for that I forgive, forgive, forget anything, if you want to live. Not angry are you? Just eerily broken, it’s each word that’s said, heard and unspoken. Even if nine is better than 5 I take one call, and I doubted alive,… survive. My mom would be jaded, my dad would be glad, that today I’m here and not awkwardly sad.

Ignore the picture, and returned the sound and then I remembered

3 for 8 that’s all I knew. I am trying to correct, nothing I knew- you made me doubt, and each day you would fix it, until the day I thought this, might actually fix it so here under cover, in dark falling might, I don’t know the time, until I find it’s all

God has helped, Satan provided. Even when I’m not thinking of anything at all, I find I think of the little bits that dwell in the darkness of a time I repented, even though I was healthy, she twisted and bent it each thought is my weave, one thing to the next… I can’t unassociate my thoughts all that is here is just his and not mine, I’m patiently waiting, each day for the dream I had had was too dark to unsee, there’s she at the end, no cigarette even, what the hearthstone might say, is that we’ve been reweavin’. I saw the day you asked me for one thing I wanted, you were my voice, I can pray till I’m blue, and that I was, until I didn’t do. Help. I truly need it. I don’t know what it is, but the feet get a’goin’, I’ve been looking for God, without even knowin’.

I wish you would see your potential, and see your worth, and realize that you are enough. It doesn’t matter about gay, straight, bi whatever. It just matters that we are human. I’ve seen God be very good to people, and to me, and it warms my heart to enable others to succeed. That’s what my hustle is about. Making things possible. God provides the tools, and we do the work. That’s my belief in life.

If there’s anywhere out there for you to find me, find me here. Let me help me help you. That’s the truth. It gets old, but just remember, that when life hands you shit, you still were always the fastest sperm for the lot. That’s the game, and the truth too.

This planet is full of people who won the most important race on the earth. Act like you believe it.

And that’s what she said, too, I believe. clear. Also Miqoté.

I wrote him a new resumé,

He got an interview,

He knows what it’s like,

To just make it through.

Laughing aloud,

I know, what’s in a name,

For one person or two,

I’d do it again.

And so when I ask,

The riddle of the night,

I wonder if you,

Are truly alright.

My tempo is good,

But it’s 7:11,

And that’s a new luck,

I obsess over schmuck.

But hey it’s something to do,

Write it all down,

Today was a good one,

I barely frowned.

Thanks to the graces,

Of what I did back to me,

I realized today,

That I am truly me.

Computer you hear it?

Sound is it on?

I know a nice guy,

Who’s middle name is John.

When all does fade,

I find it alright,

To realize tomorrow,

Might not be tonight.

And faith isn’t perfect,

There’s lots of real woe,

Thank God for English,

And women who sew.

Is this story good?

Because I feel inspired,

Even though deep down,

I’m making everyone tired.

And for the one person,

Who picks up a call,

This is the start,

Of I have most of it all.

And honestly that’s fine,

Because she is okay,

And sadly I cried,

Some other way.

I ask this green thumb,

Who makes the letter dance,

To give me a chance,

And other romance.

One thing is certain,

That I forget to,

Do what I’m told,

Until I make it through.

But not everytime,

That u do know,

And that is my story,

Of after the glow.

When one minute’s perfect,

So is the next,

Until I read the book,

Of the thousand year hex.

Y mercy us given,

A blue lullaby.

I’m imagining a small little creature,

Playing in the house,

And scurrying about, learning like a mouse,

Fast, but kind, black and white,

A perfect example of all that is right.

I train him, I feed him, I gave him his name,

And today if you’re reading, or thinking the same: I’m not a perfect specimen, of all that I know, but when I’m at home with my cat, I will be, I know.

So maybe today, at 10 past or 20. I’ll give life a chance, to see that it’s funny. And when I relax, here or outside, here or at work, or here if I hide – I’ll promise myself, that no matter what I do – when the world comes alive, I’ll be here too.

Thank you for help, for everything given,

Thank you for mercy, and being forgiven.

My time isn’t perfect, sometimes I am behind,

But one day at a time, and we will be fine.

Confessing or asking, wondering today,

If I knew how hard, it was to get to today.

I had more than 6 places to go,

I saw a little fluff, a little row,

I saw time, in the window,

I saw the light, the dark and the sky,

Change into a rose colored fly,

I saw my life go forward and back,

Inwards and outwards,

Like a Neverending panic,

And then I sat,

Without a care,

Alone in the dark,

Avoiding the air,

And now it’s just when,

I wonder why too,

Today I didn’t do it to you.

and I’m not hurt

I’m suffering

from a case

of lose the attitude

please

Matthew

there’s one thing you need

and that’s – love.

How do we show love? Kindness, integrity, and grace. And those are my old 3 virtues. Somewhere along the line I lost them. Through all the people that I met. All the things I asked for in distress. And now, eagerly patient – I wait, honestly, for the sign that I never saw but knew. Jesus. Where was I 30 minutes ago. Where were you when I needed you. When was the time I could remember to control myself? About 30 minutes ago. And then it continues. I’m here, I’m alive. I deserve to live. I do. I’m writing this now because I believed it, I did. I know I do. I just needed that one blip, that one silence, to be different. The cigarette. What a powerful thing. It ran my life. It runs us all, I believe. Whether you’re on the one side or another. I was on a bit of both. Now I just want to see. See the truth, see the fun, the love, the mercy. And greatly, it’s so dark. It’s a dark book, it’s a black book, a red book, a white one or a green one. There are so many books. And I feel like I have them all – this darkened room of light and grace. How can I return them. It’s always something to give up. When I buy the cigarette, I feel like I owe something. And that’s the connection. I’m pleading for help I don’t need. Maybe – maybe you’re reading this. Maybe you saw the unsent messages, the blocked calls, the spam, the missed connections. Somewhere I want to believe this all happens for a reason. That where I am right now is where I’m supposed to be. I’m praying. I’m praying to see fruition. The only thing I don’t have is the one thing I need. Somewhere to share my host, somewhere to share my openness, somewhere to share something I missed.

Jesus responds, dude. He always does. The pastor once said – even if he’s not with you, he’s with you. Whoever you are, if you’re reading this, just remember the one thing I heard from a long time ago that I heard. And then I went too far. Then I went overboard, overdrive, override. There’s no tomorrow. There’s no today. There’s only history in my bloody timeless hourglass. How can I give it up when I couldn’t even find it. I need someone new. Some sort of hope. Some sort of soap from the woven tongue of the secret I never kept. The silence. What do you do in silence? Continue on.

When it’s silent, I pray. When it’s silent, I play. When it’s silent, I guess. When it’s silence I guess. I wait for a cue, I listen a moment or two, I see what I have, and usually behave. One time I didn’t, and that paid me back. I gave my own dad, a freaking heart attack.

God for the love of all things holy.

When I need to remember the lessons, the timing, the rhyming and clues,

Someone remember that I did love you too.

Replay the end of my world – and the dismay of a purple diamond grey.