My little Black Box, by SearchingForAnswers Subscribe to rss feed for SearchingForAnswers

welcome to my warped world 
take a walk in my mysterious shoes 
and if anything u see makes sense 
Please help me get a clue 

My frantic search for peace 
my reality in being a storm 
powering all the noise and chaos 
My little black box,  amorphous in form. 

This poem could get long, 
It could be ridiculously short 
I cudn't tell, just cuz I'm really sleepy 
and yet not. 

Anyway, so my little black box 
As transcendent as its colour 
simple, empty, evil, dark
complex, dense with god knows what! Go figure

In a world of learnt habits, choices, standards
The box alone I call mine 
Although, I know nothing of how it works..
Of its contents too I am blind. 

stuff goes in - visual, auditory, olfactory, sensory 
stuff comes out- thoughts, feelings, actions et al
It's like there's an invisible person sitting in there 
Cuz these things I'm not actively involved in at all.

Why do I feel alone all the time, 
Why does no one understand every aspect of me 
How can i love and hate the same person so much
How can I feel close to u and still be a mystery

Grab the box and the world will turn to mayhem
Fate leaves life written in stone and yet a pen in my hand
Thoughts and feelings dictate action ..i feel above both
in the fabric of existentialism, I am a mere strand. 

Grab the box and ur in the zone, 
where adrenaline highs get u through school
where strong emotions are bizzarely out of control 
where all life turns into a big dream, and you an
instinctual fool. 

Have you ever cried a million tears 
over a person or an event 
You hate every second of the pain & suffering 
But you wudnt change the past or the outcome - you dont
repent. 

As if aware that the pain was fate, 
yet bitter it felt like a choice 
Lost in a meaningful symphony 
Searching for your own voice. 

Inconsistent decisions, non coherent emotions 
Changing experiences, dynamic personality
How can i know that though I keep changing with time
And still be sure I'm being me.

Then again where am I? who is me 
The only me is in that box - my home, my prison 
And again I pick abandon over no identity 
The twisted bitterness of fate, but this path was chosen. 

The struggle outside, the struggle within
I am forgiving but i never forget
I like strong but soft, determined but flexible 
I am loud but quiet, inattentive but observant 

SHUTUP, SHUTUP - I dont KNOW how to word it - 
I'm a black box, a violent storm: Danger! Avoid or
Circumvent. 
Posted: 2006-07-24 02:17:34 UTC

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2006-09-30 15:18:53 *****Junior Walker*****
Brillaint,I don't need to know you to know that every bit of this poem was written but has never been told,your great at putting your thoughts on paper