Reality……...is
Fantasy………is not
but

a fools hope
.
.
.
©️ Jacob Pickard. 2026.
To those who pick themselves up in silence, un-noticed, lost, but won’t give up
I know how it is
To go through the daily ritual. Unwilling to yeild, but exhausted and tired
Some of us with partners that are cold and frigid, not giving empathy, affection or love shut themselves off from you, then you shut yourself off
Others, who are single, but with the same fire in your heart, to give it all, but nobody to accept your power and love, you shut yourself off

You feel deeper, down to the working foundation of others, to touch, express your heat.
Open nerves, always giving, just wanting that touch, the lips, the pressure, to taste, to experience.
©️ Jacob Pickard. 2025.
1st published on Substack
“Meet me and hit me
Tiny and sticky candy
Kiss and eating
Are just the same things”
……………shiver down spine……………..

The borderline
The borderline
The borderline
The borderline
Red and roses
Lips and breath
Hair and dolls
They’re look alike
Smoke and mist
Night and midnight
The deep and hell
They really get me
Flip and fly
Heal and feel
Flower and poison
Are on the brink
The borderline
The borderline
The borderline
The borderline
Body and Jell-O
Crack and jazz
Arch and bridge
They’re look alike
Meet me and hit me
Tiny and sticky candy
Kiss and eating
Are just the same things
Free and fall
And love and low
Evil make you feel good
Can’t help doing that
The borderline
The borderline
The borderline
The borderline
The Borderline” is a song by character Sharon Apple and performed by Akino Arai. It is featured in the anime OVA series Macross Plus and its compilation movie.


Energy
Given freely
Is as breathing
For me
Understanding
Until now, ive had so much of it
But, frankly
I
Am
Utterly
Exhausted
I
Speak Truth
I
Endless hope
I
Set
Boundries
I
Don’t give up
……Why do I feel guilty?

Truth
I
am
prey
Human predators smell empathy
As
Sharks smell blood in the water
Allowing myself to be used
without equal reciprocity
Used
Endless cycle(s) of neglect
Affection to weapon
Sex to Weapon
Shrunk as weapon
Tool of endless emotional grounding
Control
Power
Stability
Comfort

I
Am
Tired
…….So very very tired
And I’m afraid
I
Have
Changed
I
Am
Broken
Victim
Survivor
Pariah

Empathy is a curse
©️ Jacob Pickard. 2026.
I am Pariah
A life devoid of touch, love, passion, a pillar of rough-hewn granite, to make other’s lives more comfortable so they don’t have to feel guilt. A mirrored avatar to reflect what they want to see; taking responsibility for the cowardly acts of their Phantoms.
Selfish Ideological Narcissists, making victims that exist in the interstitial spaces, Acceptable losses in the war.
A living taboo, stigmatized, no one wants to touch this flesh, it is taboo made real.
Aged masculinty shattered into dull edges, ego ripped out, longtime ideological identity destroyed; the devouring mother’s hunger satiated.
I no longer want to try to identify with anyone, as anyone, or with any group. All are phantoms.
The gulf is now infinite. Not your spaces in-between, because nothing exists on either side.
Playing my part in the background, while the Phantoms roleplay; it’s the curse of total detached awareness & empathy. Pain hidden in the shadows, invisible to all.

Pariah is my rightful place, I am the sacrificial king: I will let this demon eat my soul.
……and I will REVEL in the consumption
One with the Pariah that haunts the
interstitial spaces
the Pariah that whispers to the
phantoms in your nightmares
©️ Jacob A. Pickard. 2025. Originally
published on SubStack.

A wall of sound, like a train into solid mountain granite
A cacophonic quartet of smashing rhythm
Surrounded by darkness and a halo of thin light.
The bar, black walls, stale smoke and beer
Illumination of execution by genocide, crucifixion for/of beliefs
Murder, letting of blood
Metamorphosis
Material to ethereal, body to spirit
Or some would call it glory, ascendancy of man to heaven
Cyclical thunderous melody, droning and blooming into monotonous complexity
Bombastic renewal of circles cycles, of intricate repetition.
The eye of Isis, the death and rebirth of Osiris. The annual flooding of the Nile.
Life is a system, the process of rearrangement of cyclical moving parts, like a wall of sound.
Written around ~1995 after seeing the band Neurosis at Okayz Corral in Madison, WI. It was so loud I couldn’t hear correctly for an entire week. ©Jacob A Pickard. 2025.

I’m stronger than you’ll ever be
Because, to endure and have your sanity, to make it so long, a clearly defined character, rock hard in its clarity
I am strength
hidden in the hot exhale of your breath
only seen in the cold void
when there is nothing left
©️ Jacob Pickard. 2025.
Things have changed.

Time vigor pride beaten down by the club of life.
Resurrection?
Not while we’re alive.
©️ Jacob Pickard. 2025. Written ~ 2010.

This was a compilation punk 7″ from the early 90’s to support the Mowhawk native American Resistance against the Mexican government. This is a lesson on what needs to happen in the United States.



To resist is to change yourself.
You must become a warrior.
We out-number the villians in this world.
There is NO room for apathy.
Only TOTAL resistance.

Each of us is a temple of ego: a beacon to the uncaring universe, that has no value for organic, the growth, over the membrane of existance.
What? You think that you are the pinnacle of creation (or evolution for the atheists)
How precious?
We, you, us, an abberation in the universal plan. We know existence is a curse. The Increased organization & order brings suffering, losers in an extistance that will disappear, we are nothing.
Fighting against the entropy of bliss, we are the chaos in a reality evolving into absolute nothing, perfection.
I write this to make us small? Is this an excerise to crush your ego? Or to test it?
Does it matter?

©️ Jacob Pickard. 2026