Until you were gone....

I ve been crying whining callin myself a coward a monster... questioning the very existence of meself and the cycle of human beings ... diverging into a whole series of self deprication . Physical wounds heal but the pain in chest nothing helps with tht ...i like the dark and twisted way of things like killing someone to feel alive .i think thts how serial killers are created .

I ve been hurting and nothing heals tht it keeps getting worse .i ve hatred my pen can't hold hatred towards PPL society.huh it's such a drag.

Maybe i m wired to be a monster .there's this person i ve been nothing but good and kind to her but turns out whatever you do you ve to had to be a monster at the end of it.a monster who can make his mother cry tears but not feel a thing . hatred is a more powerful feeling thn PPL can understand.

humans shouldnt exist anymore .if i could i could wipe out this race.and friends i ve already talked bout tht hollow thing..

I

Sick of this mind and body sick of this reality don't wanna exist anymore....searching for escape from something which is not real.

Keep losing interest from everyone everything....don't feel things anymore.life is all bout those pills these pills now .

“I saw this and thought of you” has that wallop of tenderness in it in the same way receiving presents not on your birthday, but because they saw it. And thought of you.

Some version of the phrase What you love, you mention exists. And maybe they have no passion for lana del rey the singer ,minions or dodo the dog. But you mentioned them, you made a little speech and maybe feel mildly embarrassed about having ranted about it for a bit long or bit much.

And really, they might not have any kind of passion for art or comics , they don’t “get it.” But you think of lana, and they think of you, and we are all connecting over entire oceans of self and faulty words, infinitely imperfect language and the inherent isolation of consciousness. Humanity makes symbols of our cluttered, decaying world with every breath.

It’s just a movie, just a toy, just a thing, but we are experts in patterns and understanding what a thing is not. Your mother covers your cut in a Spider-Man Band-Aid because it’s all you talk about at 7. Your father buys an entire gallon of cookie flavored ice cream despite the fact you are the only one that eats it. A friend buys you a book they themselves can’t read.

Clumsy words and clumsy minds. The world would go on without ice cream or cartoon Band-Aids. And yet. And yet. We are experts in patterns and attempting to overcome the horrors of self, alone, and consciousness, continuing. 

It is not the thing itself. It is this, only this:

“I saw this. I thought of you, I thought of you, I thought of you.”

There is so much to speak yet not to be spoken...

The last of us

NOT A SUICIDE NOTE

I wanted to kill myself yesterday but i wanted to be at peace .its wierd but i realised how acceptance and revenge can act as an ensemble of peace. And I don't ve neither to choose frm .why? Cuz i only know how to give my love ...i never learnt how to love myself or forgive myself ...and I don't think i ll ever learn. So everything circles back to one thing tht you can do to free yourself frm all this..i also wondered if the gates of heaven or hell would be waiting for me ... One thought also arises wht bout ur parents.well i don't owe thm anything it wasn't my decision to be bornt after all. and friends..it's just a modernised bartar system which the society gave it's validation...remember no one is there in your life for you ...it's either they re getting something out of it or you re just being used for the time being ...no one stays when you re at the vertex of parabola in your life....this would ve made you thought ki only family stays but no your house is a factory and ur family is the owner of it. yes ..they d want good for you but not for you bcz they d look good in society if their children are successful.....n it doesn't matter cuz all your life you ve been raised and taught not to speak against...but are you tht weak to kill yourself over tht ..um no i m not..

My head is always cooped up with voices ....yup whispers , screams,melodies you re listening to music and you have to double check if it was the sound in my ears or in my mind.. i need pills to sleep...n trust me not sleeping can turn a good man into a non recognisable one... I ve started to forget simple things like some dementia shit..its just hard to breathe and feel my blood flowing thru my heart making it beat but all i know i m already a ghost of wht i used to be ......well it's been 6 months and coming back to my initial argument i couldn't find peace..i m still figuring it out so i can go away in peace....i tried slitting my wrists in the past but it hurts ..n i just wanna be happy in peace when i die...i bought some 50 mg pills this time thts double the power i used to take so if i take em with caffeine it should do the work.....i hope it does the work i can't face this world if i ll be alive..

I have grudges for most of the people around me but there's this girl's mum...she felt so motherly.....well i m grateful for tht. I hope all her problems and family feuds fades away with time..umm yup thts it...everyone else just took away pieces of me to a point i feel not worthy of being a human...yah or simply i m not humane enough...to me to be human is many things at once strong and vulnerable, hardheaded and intellectual, a revolutionary and yah don't take it wrong ,a gansta..... I feel i m not toxic my life is but whatever i decided not to ruin anybody's peace and let them be maybe forgive them too

And I couldn't complete my prose about this gurl i was writing it was gonna be beautiful....i wish I could ve kissed her just once ....but IT IS WHT IT IS.

Well i hope quantum physics develops more altho I would be around to see it..ok

Just a few more hours i ll be free frm everything ....

Do I Dare

to believe in tenderness... what'd it feel like, to be undone in wholeness, breathing like waves in a surf symphony... I want to believe in tenderness, to skate away from all the haunted notions I tie around my neck like a noose, and wistful stars chiding, as if debriding the layers wasn't enough, never enough.

I could sketch chalk outlines of each flawed second that I spend in wondering,

I spent so much of my time and energy waiting for something to happen.

Of course I wanted to see the world, to experience its fullness. I wanted to be a real part of it, rather than the passing shadow I so often felt like. I wanted to devour the world, But i only spilled words never did i intimidated her with my eyes.

I’ve forgotten the words to every prayer, but still I lift my hand to my mouth, expecting nothing,but finding blood.

Wading barefoot through the tide spilling out my guts to the wind — and it wails a haunting absolution, take it, this tenderness you seek, my gusty hands offer it, trembling through my hair as if it speaks with its own heart — do i even have one?

I give in, my hands hold tenderness within, perhaps, as some kin of sentiment shivering under a tree in a storm, huffed up in words to keep me warm telling myself to be strong, telling you, telling the voices that breed in the shadows that chase me, telling the moon that casts its fishing rod into water anyway, past clouds and ebbed sun, dregs of light, even the colours on my pills

and I am all limb, heart, sense,

afloat.

Good as gold