effektarchitects

I don't work for that company.
I also don't rape or kill people

I don't write to position the future. I write what is real in my own present

I will never cover up anything. My life will not be threatened by truth. Now is the time to pray. God be with us all. My lack of freedom will not be pardoned by the guilty 's release either. I've had enough. I am out of patience and acceptance. I wish no one was allowed to be president of the United States of America unless they only intended to proceed with caution and extreme care. I'm sickened by the leadership. Their choice for personal companionship is as tackles as their leadership. Pathetic really.  It is like watching a game show for losers United.

My other opinion on the other half who live on the hills....
Hookers marry rich old white sickos who rob the poor just to over compensate for their lack of integrity.

Is there a quote about small dick syndrome in a psychology text ?
I'm not sorry. That little opinion tidbit is not resurveyed for only the white haired.
It is all over the Television.

Bad Girls
Talk Shows
Reality TV

My writing does not conclude after 30 minutes until the next episode.

Sorry I don't lie.
Writing is reality of feeling.

I don't speak on behalf of God.
I'm human.

But ...

I pray for my freedom anyway.

Song list for today:

1. Working Class Hero
2. Land of Confusion
3,  Strange Days

Because of the lyrics

No association there.

The daily quote:

-
" My wars are laid away in books. " - Emily Dickinson

The colors of the broken

The world
By Jessica Singleton

The world cannot wait to inject
themselves with insanity.
Anything works for a waste of time.
And the rain is translucent
To the people who don't see or feel.
I'm alone in front of the world.
While your words are painted up beside me.
I'm walking around in circles.
Next to a mirror of yesterday.
I wish you would let go of my hand
If all you're going to do is
drag me through this.


Watchful hand
By Jessica Singleton

Those seconds
Finger tips
Run short.
They are five minutes late
For our conversation.
Tell me if you have had
Enough of my time.
Tell if it feels good to manage
To suck the life out of any shred of hope left


Hymns of the mother
By Jessica Singleton

Tell us mother if you carry
innocence to it's graves?
Tell us what you sing on Sunday,
while you bow your head.
To the father-
To the ghost
To the son that you never planned to carry.
Stick your finger up
Point us all in the right direction
God knows where that fingers been


Alone with my thoughts
By Jessica Singleton

I don't get an apology tonight.
They could never understand
Besides their sorry words are no
More important than the lie that started it.
I don't know any speech or sounds to
express how I truly feel or what happened to me.
I feel like the last person on the earth.
All the other people seem like
silhouettes on bathroom doors.
I feel so surrounded.
The abuse levels I've endured
have built a city within me.

Does It ?

Does It
By
Jessica Singleton

This under taste
This ember
This only one
Is more than I can control
He is entangled around my heart
I can feel these feelings beside me
When he Tares me in two
God be with me
He will be everything
And
He will take up more of my time
Then I ever had
The night sky will stain my face
When I remember why I should forget
When I cannot let him go
But
Why fight it
When it feels this right
He could not heal me more then alcohol
I fill the void with a lie
That it will be okay
There is no substance
There is no other one
Not like him
He is more than that
He is worth more
Then my own humiliation
And
My own suffering
I'd never take what time
He does not have left
So I curl into a blanket with a book
And I keep living my own life
That is slipping away from me.
💜🎱💙💜🌚🖤💜💙🎆

Silent cry 🍭🖤💜💙

I burnt dinner tonight. I did not plan that. No problem really.
I kind of want a pet. I am lazy. So I guess I will write something new. I did not go anywhere. I've stayed home.

Sock Puppet
By
Jessica Singleton

She dresses her moon in crimson petals.
It shades the map.
Directions based on mythology.
Hands in the dark find new pockets.
Tell them the crash test dummy
Brain washed you with subliminal messages.
Push the handle
Russian Roulette board game
Cry bloody bell
Sing the innocent to sleep.
Passing days with death mask expressions.
Lyrics in lines
Nailed to the card.
It runs out
It echoes
Through the rumors
Truth held so lightly
Damaged misunderstanding
But what you hold inside
Will take flight
And you'll be the one in tears.
Push the handle
Russian roulette board game
Cry bloody bell
Sing the innocent to sleep.


Cradle Clive Raven
By Jessica Singleton

Innocence is a fragile piece of art.
Held by the hands of the ignorant.
I'm guilty of being angry.
I'm guilty of wishing for you to finally fall.
But I'm glad that I'm not guilty of the loss
Of your innocence.
I never let it sink in.
The idea that you were anything
but a monster.
So I never considered you at a dinner table
With family conversation or a set of dishes.
But I'm sorry and only for one reason
If your mistakes lead you into
Anything that could have harmed
your unborn brat.
A person who had nothing to do with
All the insanity in the world-
It is sad really.
It is not my place.
Heaven knows it is not my fault
But I know that kind of pain to well.


The off brand napkin holders-
By
Jessica Singleton

They come in thin plastic sleeves.
Not crystal or even glass.
Most men don't ask for directions.
They don't think long enough for that.
So picking out place settings is silly.
They would eat with their hands if they could.
Pathetic how yard sale ornaments
get used like that.
They never throw things like that out.
Men are lazy.
They use it until it breaks.
Then they forget where they left it.


 X obituaries
By
Jessica Singleton

Boston cream pie sits next to her
political collection of news clippings.
Out on the table with her keys.
The flower vase is a garden of dust jackets.
She is never around anymore,
but she can feel the echo of
what she left behind.
It is in the obvious place.
The line just beneath the truth.
Spoken in thoughts.


Hollywood charity
By
Jessica Singleton

Only your pockets can fill their eyes.
Never enough to know how to abuse a lie.
Placed in front of you.
To cover up their guilty verdict.
She doesn't deserve a second chance.
She took away everyone else's.
She had no reason and no right.
There will never be forgiveness here from me.

Love ❤️ song to a man of clouds

When in doubt
By
Jessica singleton

October skyline fell apart
Smudged in cloudy paint water
Mapping out the tiny lines that
Define my expression.
I almost wonder how much of me
Can. Be seen there.
You say you know me.
You can see me when
I turn away.
But you know me when in doubt.
I hide myself from everyone.
At least I thought I tried.
You make me believe when I'm in doubt.
Cause you know me
Well enough to find me
I wanted to say
You threw me away.
That I'd finally seen the light
That I'd walk away this time for good.
But I realized again that I loved  you
When I was in doubt.
Cause my heart refused to let you go.
And I have never had a better reason
 to be in doubt.
So I had to let go of every reason
 to be in doubt.
I'd have to let you in.
Like a ledge that over looks a nightmare.
Nothing safe to bet on here.
Whatever lies beneath that broken cliff
Is nothing compared to the thought
 of losing you for good.
I'd rather suffer another headache
Then to wonder what ever happened to you.
I doubt I'm much.
I'm really not that strong.
But I need to know that you are okay.
That no one will ever break your heart.
You really have no reason to be in doubt.
I am sorry though if you have ever
 felt like doubting me.
I will never treat you like that again.

New writing ideas by me

Off Set Tension
By
Jessica Singleton
A door knob that looks like a hand.
A memory hanging on the wall.
A silent prayer locks it all away.
That is the tension that builds deep within these walls.
Bottles pile up and candy remains.
I drank the rest of the past.
I'll finish the rest tomorrow.
I'll be here then and tonight.
That will never change.
This empty feeling.
This sparrow flys throughout me.
I cannot escape myself.
I am unchanging.
Always alone with the books of words that crawl out of me.


Within
By
Jessica Singleton

Within me is what you'll never be.
Something you could never understand.
You just act it out.
What you hear in the crowd.
You chime into other people's conversations.
But no one has the time to be that bored.
You lie and scream at wolves.
But the gate is open and those dogs are mad as hell.
Now you're within arms reach of death.
You will crawl for less attention on days when you care.
Pathetic how the night dies behind your eyes.
Don't cry yourself to sleep tonight.
There is no audience for plastic sheets.
Tip toe around my outcry.
Tell me you are sorry.
Say it like it is not written in front of you.
Within the truth
Is all the lies you caused.
Now and only now
will you find out what is caused
from what is within me.
You are nothing but a hatched excuse
For other people's wasted time.


Laughter
By
Jessica Singleton

She is dancing around my head.
She is a free spirit.
She will never age a day past childhood.
I know what everyone's opinion is.
She repeats it in chants.
Like it is the book that changed her life.
I hear those memories
Of every moment of every day.
I can feel it crawl up my back and scratch.
Giving me less ability to stand up on my own.
But what is the point?
You cannot be something you're not.
Why pretend to please?
When you do not want it.
She mocks my pain.
Where is my darkened release?
I guess those were just stories too...
Nothing harms the self esteem like regret.
Not opinions.
Just your own regret.
I cannot stand up to
what I carry around inside myself.
I was never that strong.
She laughs.
She points and she hopes
That she has made me this way
I am abused
But not humiliated.

Eight ball 🎱

I don't have to get permission to doodle. Because I am not using the subject to make money off them. I'm not having this conversation.
I have a 9th grade school level at artistic ability.
So I'm not mark ryden.

I was reading a Andréws book. I will donate it to the library. I think that I want to exercise and bathe.

Do I write?
Yes!

Something new

She waits on the stars to salt the sky.
She cannot help but push her curtains shut.
She'll say that it's okay.
That promise is made of a lot of what she denies.
Deep down- under the covers
Her shell
The paste
The silent memory.
The hand that holds her mind
Kept from possibility
Rewind the tape
Go over what cannot be erased.
That lilac disposition.
Great zeppelin
Book marked her place
Keeps her in the right time

He does not know
But he wouldn't understand anything anyway
He knows she is in love.
But he does not want to know
That it is not with him
He paints his expression to hide what he cannot do anything about.


To wish
In childhood-
Hopeful!
In adulthood-
Insane & questionable!
When you are in love-
Undeniably sad.

Cape-
He could light up a night with nothing at all.
He could fly around the
World.
And he could have anything he wanted.
But he is busy in his real life away
From all this insanity and violence.
Which is the reason that I'm thankful.
He is not the one who broke my heart.
Because he would be the only one that is
impossible to Get over.

Benign Pendulum

                                                          Benign Pendulum 
                                                          By Jessica Singleton
                                                           A fictional story

                                                   

  It crawls inside of me.  That unknown stranger that is my reflection. I can feel it taking over what is left of me. I cannot know yet. We must not meet until another time. Not today. Today I cannot take it.
Benign pendulum is about an inner asylum. It's about a ptsd split personality. 
The carousel is inside the child. Vile creatures ride the pretty glass horses. A democratic child ruins the carousel. 

I started it but have not done much with the story. Mostly an outline. 

Stairway out the window

I have not blogged in a while. I moved into a house of my own. I painted a lot and it seems I just haven't had the time to do much. I did read the new Stephen King book (  Gwendy 's Box.  )  I also have wrote or as I should say, I've come up with a few more stories. I have not blogged them yet. With all blessings comes a sad story. I guess in that sense I've been lucky in life. Cause I've got loads of stories to share.
I did get to buy myself an " It " remake movie poster. I did not get to go see it yet. I have to wait for the DVD to come out.
But I have seen the original "Stephen King- IT. "I watched it when I was twelve.  I owned it on DVD in my twenties.
Life is a long knotted piece of string.
I'm not happy these days.
I've tried to cover that for some time but no such luck.
I'm not suicidal. Just tired.
I'm not capable of feeling happy.
I suffer from depression.

But...
I have never felt so alone and surrounded as I do now.  I walked into town while ago. I have a sweet tooth.
I got some stale donuts.
Sticky and dried out.
Eating those was like when you suffer from insomnia and you're going through a panic attack.
Then you take a pill but it sticks in your throat and you can taste that bitter life sucks taste.
I don't get to visit park view much.
I miss Mac.
It's funny how people make so much out
What I type. I guess they need a reason to bite