There is nothing else, essentially. The cock is satisfied, the mind is altered. Things are complete and time has been earned. One has the right to be comfortable.
Lately
Good. Quite good, honestly. The simplistic joys of eight hour shifts, cashing a note, restocking of essential leaves and after contributions to the system, a long night of elixirs and repeating orgasmic, expressive memories.
There is nothing else, essentially. The cock is satisfied, the mind is altered. Things are complete and time has been earned. One has the right to be comfortable.
There is nothing else, essentially. The cock is satisfied, the mind is altered. Things are complete and time has been earned. One has the right to be comfortable.
went
Post and post. There is the point. Bouncing off letters only to encourage others to waste more time.
Take another
Well it at comes back anyway. At least I have air and escape. I do not know what this is, what it is for, or why, but there it is and always will be. I cannot think about anything anymore, there really is no plan. I have stated such things before, but the enormity of it all is just too real. I have lost. I have nothing, but its just fine.
$4 each? Thats it? I will be just fine then. I only need the simplest of chemical quantities. The time is no ones. The climax is within, raging to burst out and fuel mad thoughts of selfish admissions. The weakest of emotions are the most obvious. The need for pathetic reality is not understood. I must not rest.
$4 each? Thats it? I will be just fine then. I only need the simplest of chemical quantities. The time is no ones. The climax is within, raging to burst out and fuel mad thoughts of selfish admissions. The weakest of emotions are the most obvious. The need for pathetic reality is not understood. I must not rest.
here I am, you son of a bitch
O what have I done? I never get enough, I cannot resist you. What do I fear? What is fear? I do not care of you and your services. My needs are of needs.
The pain was there, but not the cushioned slap of trueness and damp places.
Everything that meant something has only been a small wooden box. Time is made of paper. There was a loud grinding pulse released in amplified bursts when least expected. The rest is as it was. It is very tired outside.
Why do these colors continue to scream at me? No commands or facts, just incessant, sharp spikes of noise. Tie it down, drench it in water and lay it to rest.
There are no new reasons. Sleeping soundly as the steel only grows colder and deteriorates further. The smell of rust and perfume radiates from my core.
I have grown weary of this. I have overdosed on stupid little white pieces of chalk.
The pain was there, but not the cushioned slap of trueness and damp places.
Everything that meant something has only been a small wooden box. Time is made of paper. There was a loud grinding pulse released in amplified bursts when least expected. The rest is as it was. It is very tired outside.
Why do these colors continue to scream at me? No commands or facts, just incessant, sharp spikes of noise. Tie it down, drench it in water and lay it to rest.
There are no new reasons. Sleeping soundly as the steel only grows colder and deteriorates further. The smell of rust and perfume radiates from my core.
I have grown weary of this. I have overdosed on stupid little white pieces of chalk.
that's what I said
Profoundary tranquilities of overwhelming proportions. These things I believe were always meant to be. An abstraction, if you will, and yes, I do. The silence only makes my head swell. The times I had were priceless and over. The point was, and still is as it never could be.
fuck
After we had passionate and loving intimacies, I held her tight and whispered in her ear with a soulful tone of satisfaction; someone else's name...
here it was
Posts? What posts? What useless information have I left for no one to read? This vent, rant, and idiotic release continues. In my phases of loss of mind and soul, direction and control, I must release this energy, though not in a positive way, at least limit myself away from the negative. Distractions as they are, the drugs, the lame "artistic" release, the indulgence of sexual perversions and selfish feel goods of the only realities I care to acknowledge. I continue to write, to sculpt, to masturbate, to do nothing and everything at a constant force of going nowhere for a climax of pure nothing. Enjoy.
Sex and drugs
Adding to the list at blistering speed. O life and realities. I am here, I am there, I am gone. Abnormalities and excruciations lost. Pleases and climactic peaks are unobtainable. Enlightened nothingness, deep, thorough understanding of the complexities, functionalities and conclusions of nothing. As it should, my dear.
Let us see what this does to me...
Let us see what this does to me...
what now
I don't really know what to think anymore. I do not know what I want, I do not think I even do. wait. what?
compose
pubic
phuctupness
s ha2 3h
bfj x me kakkl e nn
ha[ppy jddj s
thst notreally flkng to eorl
i dnulh jshe dhjkmmrf s 3.knj 4k re wnk
oh whi
youir stupid yure stuipd stupid fool stipid stupid stuutid fucking stupied stuipiud fuckjinbhg stupiod woirthjlkersds foiolk stipid fiuchuing stoioud soi os so stiupinb fiuck thius sdtupoid yioui fuck tyis stiupiod lifew yuou aerer too satupiod,
compose
pubic
phuctupness
s ha2 3h
bfj x me kakkl e nn
ha[ppy jddj s
thst notreally flkng to eorl
i dnulh jshe dhjkmmrf s 3.knj 4k re wnk
oh whi
youir stupid yure stuipd stupid fool stipid stupid stuutid fucking stupied stuipiud fuckjinbhg stupiod woirthjlkersds foiolk stipid fiuchuing stoioud soi os so stiupinb fiuck thius sdtupoid yioui fuck tyis stiupiod lifew yuou aerer too satupiod,
There
I am in such a haze. Man, I'm so confused. I have no more need for emotion. Blatant publicly stupidness. This wasn't the way it is. I was me, it was. Why? How? How could you just let that happen? Let it? It was a fight of death and despair beyond mind bugs and empty releases. But not much more. It did. I wondered why such a traditional slice of life wanting physics and science of sexual control and indulgence that only leads to more yellow pills of bright red spines running up and down the hall with booming thumps and slow passionate slides. Drift, drift out, you fucking ditz. Show yourself, naked and hard to the wind. Thinked and such things as they are. I have no idea but it all makes sense.
O then I continue. I know it is important. Since the beginning, I started. Named and scorned. I lost it, won a free scrap of flour and gained two pounds. I never thought it would be this way. I didn't know who it was that I am and when I did what didn't happen but started it all. Thats not right. It is important, however. I should study the wholesome breast.
I am not tired or drained. I feel. Thats about it. when. when.
O then I continue. I know it is important. Since the beginning, I started. Named and scorned. I lost it, won a free scrap of flour and gained two pounds. I never thought it would be this way. I didn't know who it was that I am and when I did what didn't happen but started it all. Thats not right. It is important, however. I should study the wholesome breast.
I am not tired or drained. I feel. Thats about it. when. when.
musts
I just have to stay distracted.
I cannot be left to thought.
I cannot be left idle either.
I must choose these distractions wisely.
I cannot be left to thought.
I cannot be left idle either.
I must choose these distractions wisely.
hire me
I don't fucking understand this. I am given no options, yet I am taking all. Willing, ready and pathetically desperate. I cannot take a single step this way.
Am I not qualified for life? Even simplicity is fine, I need so little at this point. My time is worthless and worth less.
Maybe I should just be a horrible person, I am convinced of this anyway, it could at least be valid and bringing me something. I've never been good at any criminal activity, I don't know enough people to sell drugs anymore and I am not a good liar. Yet it is clear I am of the depths of society.
I really only want money to help others so its kind of contradictory. I don't want anything or need anything, I just want purpose. Something to offer others. This drive is stronger than anything for myself, I care nothing of me. It is too late for me so I'd like to at least provide out of my otherwise meaningless existence something. Something.
Stupid fuck.
Am I not qualified for life? Even simplicity is fine, I need so little at this point. My time is worthless and worth less.
Maybe I should just be a horrible person, I am convinced of this anyway, it could at least be valid and bringing me something. I've never been good at any criminal activity, I don't know enough people to sell drugs anymore and I am not a good liar. Yet it is clear I am of the depths of society.
I really only want money to help others so its kind of contradictory. I don't want anything or need anything, I just want purpose. Something to offer others. This drive is stronger than anything for myself, I care nothing of me. It is too late for me so I'd like to at least provide out of my otherwise meaningless existence something. Something.
Stupid fuck.
Good one...
Exam today, important, leave late, drive into another car, then get a parking ticket. This should throw enough balance of good and bad that I will receive abundant points with no effort. Try to fuck up more often, make things as complicated as possible, failure is the best road to success.
I am becoming more and more desperate for life. I'm clinging to nothing.
Good luck then, idiot.
I am becoming more and more desperate for life. I'm clinging to nothing.
Good luck then, idiot.
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friends, interactions and distractions
I am still not living, I don't need help from anyone else to do it, but maybe I need some friends, a crew. I think I need guy friends, I have no camaraderie other than a large dog. Any other friendship balances of labels of relationships and heart-filled bullshit that I do not need. Fuck, I don't really know what I want. There is no who, just a what now.I can't have my life, its not mine anymore. There is nothing left inside me anymore, I wish I had a structured gig going so I could drone out of this anxiety at the least. I continue to fail at even the simplest levels. Selling scraps of life for 20 bucks a hit is getting nowhere.
choices. I don't know what the fuck I am doing. I'm not fighting this all hard enough, I am inviting failure, I skim at the edge of the settled scum, proud to not be stuck in the depths, but never creating any distance from it. it is a pathetic reality.
Why did you choose to do this?
This unreadable shit continues. I am not doing things to be proud of in any way. Pointless photography and idiotic writings, this is not creation of any kind. It can only be considered expressive to me as I am venting and expressing my mindless, useless thoughts.
writings.
I am torn between this open isolation and living the realities.
I don't know what I am looking for anymore.
I cannot find reason, feelings or distraction in anything.
Am I really completely alone? I mean on the depth and validity of me? I didn't think I was.
Yes, and.
choices. I don't know what the fuck I am doing. I'm not fighting this all hard enough, I am inviting failure, I skim at the edge of the settled scum, proud to not be stuck in the depths, but never creating any distance from it. it is a pathetic reality.
Why did you choose to do this?
This unreadable shit continues. I am not doing things to be proud of in any way. Pointless photography and idiotic writings, this is not creation of any kind. It can only be considered expressive to me as I am venting and expressing my mindless, useless thoughts.
writings.
I am torn between this open isolation and living the realities.
I don't know what I am looking for anymore.
I cannot find reason, feelings or distraction in anything.
Am I really completely alone? I mean on the depth and validity of me? I didn't think I was.
Yes, and.
Sacre-du
I am a try this again it must be some pointless can imagine anybody's actually reading any of these completely blank nothingness and finally I have no problem then
I love anything that anybody really cares what I think anyway
Oh my Fuck, I feel awful and son is a fool burbling core churning of nothingness can't feel more drugs more creative more money
No, no, it's working just fine, this is fine, it doesn't matter. I'm still here is regardless otherwise and I have to do it.
I love anything that anybody really cares what I think anyway
Oh my Fuck, I feel awful and son is a fool burbling core churning of nothingness can't feel more drugs more creative more money
No, no, it's working just fine, this is fine, it doesn't matter. I'm still here is regardless otherwise and I have to do it.
again
I'm losing it again. I'm slipping. It's all getting through again. Disconnect. Stop thinking, stop feeling. Who are you? You can't do this anymore.
If I have nothing to say, I should express nothing.
Fuck.
Fuck, what am I to do?
I have no control, no power over anything. Why the fuck not?
I am powerful, strong, I can do anyfuckingthing.
But here I sit. With nothing. No being.
Control, focus, why is it so unobtainable?
Yes, here I sit. Writing stupid nonsense to no one. Creating nothing, moving in no direction. Why are you here? You don't fucking exist.
If I have nothing to say, I should express nothing.
Fuck.
Fuck, what am I to do?
I have no control, no power over anything. Why the fuck not?
I am powerful, strong, I can do anyfuckingthing.
But here I sit. With nothing. No being.
Control, focus, why is it so unobtainable?
Yes, here I sit. Writing stupid nonsense to no one. Creating nothing, moving in no direction. Why are you here? You don't fucking exist.
Yesterday morning
What has happened to me? Who is me? I am filthy and empty. I only bathe for job interviews and sex, both of which leave me feeling more hollow, more failed, less me.
I am not on any track, no road has been chosen, I am blindly plotting random paths through thick, dark fields with no visibility, no idea what is ahead, behind the next hill, across the next valley. There is no horizon, no defined up or down, north, west, direction means nothing as progress is never made despite efforts or lack of.
I feel nothing, I have nothing, nothing is real. I am a fraud: true of heart. I am a failure.
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My dog is hungry
Yes, it was blatantly clear, it was at the edge of every passing, it was in tones and with extra adjectives to mask it, but she could not resist blunt validity and now told me; she loves me.
I told her I needed a cigarette...
I told her I needed a cigarette...
I'm so confused, frustrated and lost. I fear so much but don't really give a fuck equally. I can't think, I can't read, concentrate? Absolutely not.
Why am I typing this shit out?
I'm too torn between worlds to know anything, I feel so empty.
I just need some money. Really, that's it, it always is. You really can buy it all, it's required, everything is tagged. In the end you'll never get a good deal either.
Why am I typing this shit out?
I'm too torn between worlds to know anything, I feel so empty.
I just need some money. Really, that's it, it always is. You really can buy it all, it's required, everything is tagged. In the end you'll never get a good deal either.
Cycles, circles and vortex
So begins a whole new cycle, a decent and rise, brilliance and idiocy, love, hate, life and death.
Where will all this take me? Where will I take it?
What have I done? Oh, fuck, what have I done?
To sit and melt, to speed and burn, to drown?
Again, I must ride this thing because of me. Again, I see no point.
Where will all this take me? Where will I take it?
What have I done? Oh, fuck, what have I done?
To sit and melt, to speed and burn, to drown?
Again, I must ride this thing because of me. Again, I see no point.
Strangest of days
I believe I am now feeling every single human emotion at varying levels of intensity, all at the same time, all grouped together into a single entity. Seeming to bubble and churn, fighting with one another, struggling to be the dominant drive.
It's not too bad, considering...
Beneath it all, I have a grand yearning to break free, explode out, I just have no idea if it will be in a positive or negative way, if it will enlighten me or destroy me.
I really don't seem to know a damn thing right now.
I will continue on. Do as I do, excel when I must, fail when it doesn't matter and be as I am.
I am nothing more than me now.
It's not too bad, considering...
Beneath it all, I have a grand yearning to break free, explode out, I just have no idea if it will be in a positive or negative way, if it will enlighten me or destroy me.
I really don't seem to know a damn thing right now.
I will continue on. Do as I do, excel when I must, fail when it doesn't matter and be as I am.
I am nothing more than me now.
Oh the cold, dark rain of the night. Snaps, ticks and crackles from sill to infinity. Try harder to hear the furthest most and the heaviest. Identify the tone and pitch of the materials and textures they collide with at the end of their journeys.Thousands upon thousands of drops, each making contact with the earth in its own specific place and with its own distinct sound. Pick each one out, label it, tag it, name it. Determine the landscape surrounding in your mind by theses learnings. This will create a more useful and pleasing view of the world around you at this moment.
Rest in indifference.
Writer; master of poetry and expression
Strong man of valor and value
Intellectual
Focus and perseverance
Master of form, a powerful sculptor
Grip on reality
Pure of heart
Filled of brilliant conversation and thought
Endless triumphant successes
Pioneer of his field
Great academic achievement
Timely
Reliable
Body of a mythological god
Loved by all
Radiated a seductive sexual aura ...irresistible to women
Never missed an opportunity to express ...romance and love
Grand, bright soul
Always, deeply happy
Today II
Oh, but I am still here. I've been fighting it so long, I do not want to give up. I have no choice, no control. My future and fate have been determined by others. I am powerless. Such a shameful thing to admit. I've only ever encountered short periods of power and control. I deserve more. However at this point, there is none to be had. No hope to be found in any glimmer of slips from speech. No accidental embrace of fuzzy memories, bringing smiles and a pop in my soul. No sit down proposal of upcoming chapters and the plot intended. No more scent of warm skin. No more depth. No more feeling.
Today
I am done with this. All of this. Done with thought, hope, ideas, dreams, curiosities, experiences, work, play, fuck, seeing, hearing, feeling, this whole fucking world. I am done.
current
My confusion only grows. Of who I am am, what I am worth. I get swarmed by little hotties begging to know me, offering to pose nude for me and my art, actually wanting me purely based on so little. Yet the one I long for, desire and obsess over, thinks of me repulsive, unnattractive and useless. Am I truly unlovable? Am I wanted, or not? It seems I am worthy on some level, yet all I experience is blatent rejection. I sit here now with no friends, no love, no replenishment of the daily drains of existence. I am not a part of anything. My relationships are only within my mind and I hate that guy.
Lose
I'm too rational a thinker in some ways. To plan a future from this point is bleak, bland and greatly disheartening. Rationally, I must know who I am, how easily I fail and accept odds. I see nothing but the pleasures I bring myself, which are far from enough and, of course, lack any intensity.
This gives me vision of dark places in which my clouded, chemically operated mind brings me my reality. Alone, filth, empty. Barely existing.
This gives me vision of dark places in which my clouded, chemically operated mind brings me my reality. Alone, filth, empty. Barely existing.
Fuck it
I have no idea what it feels like to be loved and/or respected. A long, empty, unrewarded, unfulfilled life of nothingness is all I have experienced. I offer nothing, deserve nothing, and only feel pain and destitution. I don't know why I am here or ever was. I no longer want anything, I have no dreams, no goals, no future.
I don't want to overcome, figure anything out or even fucking live.
I don't want to overcome, figure anything out or even fucking live.
Done
I fucking hate this life with all that is left of me. I feel nothing in this world, no attachment or reason of any kind. Fuck this, fuck you, fuck off all of you.
14 a.m.
This unfulfilled feeling is becoming too much. There seems no reason for anything, effort, thought, even existing once again has no reasoning.
Drive continues, it seems to come natural. I think I'm just trying to stay busy enough not to think, dwell or dream. I'd rather just be working than sinking into the dark crevasses of reality.
Still, drive must lead to something.
All I ever do is drive. I can't even get an occasional rest stop or welcome center in which to break the rut and release some energy. I've nothing.
Running out of fuel as well.
A short trip is inevitable with no fuel. My simple drive comes of nothing. No motivational emotional outside forces pushing or pulling things my way. No bright, beautiful goal just ahead, calling to me with want and need of my grandeur. No visions, no soul. Nothing.
For now, the trip continues. Ignore the gauges and alertive chimes warning of dismal failures sure to come.
Just drive...
Drive continues, it seems to come natural. I think I'm just trying to stay busy enough not to think, dwell or dream. I'd rather just be working than sinking into the dark crevasses of reality.
Still, drive must lead to something.
All I ever do is drive. I can't even get an occasional rest stop or welcome center in which to break the rut and release some energy. I've nothing.
Running out of fuel as well.
A short trip is inevitable with no fuel. My simple drive comes of nothing. No motivational emotional outside forces pushing or pulling things my way. No bright, beautiful goal just ahead, calling to me with want and need of my grandeur. No visions, no soul. Nothing.
For now, the trip continues. Ignore the gauges and alertive chimes warning of dismal failures sure to come.
Just drive...
Status
I'm not suicidal, however, If the opportunity to die poetically, or with purpose, shows itself, I will not pass it up.
inside
The only reason I could believe there is such a thing as a soul, is, I cannot describe the thing that is now missing within me.
I feel a void to my core. Hollow, functioning from the outside, sometimes even quite well, but a strange darkness where reason of some sort once resided.
It's not depression, depression cripples, it won't allow such operation or confusion. Expression is still possible in cases of depression but this void never fills with such things that seemed to originate there in the past.
So now that this thing is gone, whatever it may be, am I soon to go as well? Significant in its purpose, meaning, drive, want and need, have I droned?
Am I nothing now?
I am my job and where I live? That's fucking it?
I sure the fuck lost something...
I feel a void to my core. Hollow, functioning from the outside, sometimes even quite well, but a strange darkness where reason of some sort once resided.
It's not depression, depression cripples, it won't allow such operation or confusion. Expression is still possible in cases of depression but this void never fills with such things that seemed to originate there in the past.
So now that this thing is gone, whatever it may be, am I soon to go as well? Significant in its purpose, meaning, drive, want and need, have I droned?
Am I nothing now?
I am my job and where I live? That's fucking it?
I sure the fuck lost something...
putrid motion
My existence grows in its pointless efforts. I continue to struggle, fight, grow, be. Nothing is anything. Goals and changes cycle through fed on disappointment and failure. Here I am again, just the same, just as broken and degraded into minuscule contributions to a never ending dream of ultimate endings. Why? Why am I even still alive, let alone giving any effort of any kind to anyone or anything? This entire collection of thought is complete shit, complete useless, false expression. It feels like nothing, but that is what to expect of life, nothing. I cannot feel anything but void. Voids of emotion, pleasure, meaning, voids of who I am, who I was and who I will never be.
Here. Take it. Take whats left of me and please destroy it beyond recondition. Hide the pieces, never speak of any of this.
Here. Take it. Take whats left of me and please destroy it beyond recondition. Hide the pieces, never speak of any of this.
In line at the drive thru
A bird lands gently on my rear view mirror just outside my open window. Less than a foot apart, our eyes meet. "hello, little bird. Is every little thing gunna be alright?". Bird promptly shits and flys away.
Friday 13th
Drifted out while driving, clipped a mailbox.
A minimum of 8 hours of sleep is needed after eating clonopin. The strung out buzz is an intense phenomenon only experienced when trying to wake up. Especially if its only been about 5. It is as though one is peacefully dying, the body is forcing shutdown and all desire becomes focused on sleep.
A loud snap, I knew what I did. To my right a collage of silver flaps in the breeze at the end of a wire. I went back, knocked on the door of the hillbilly shanty home. A rotten '83 ford conversion sat on flat tires, a forest growing beneath it. I knocked on the door knowing damn well no one has lived here in a while. A neighbor walks out of his garage and says "ain't nobody livin there" I told him I clipped the box with my mirror. It was a rusty memory of a mailbox, missing numbers and a door, now twisted and torn. He said don't worry about it. I did not. Drove home, popped the shattered mirror back in its housing and took a nap.
A minimum of 8 hours of sleep is needed after eating clonopin. The strung out buzz is an intense phenomenon only experienced when trying to wake up. Especially if its only been about 5. It is as though one is peacefully dying, the body is forcing shutdown and all desire becomes focused on sleep.
A loud snap, I knew what I did. To my right a collage of silver flaps in the breeze at the end of a wire. I went back, knocked on the door of the hillbilly shanty home. A rotten '83 ford conversion sat on flat tires, a forest growing beneath it. I knocked on the door knowing damn well no one has lived here in a while. A neighbor walks out of his garage and says "ain't nobody livin there" I told him I clipped the box with my mirror. It was a rusty memory of a mailbox, missing numbers and a door, now twisted and torn. He said don't worry about it. I did not. Drove home, popped the shattered mirror back in its housing and took a nap.
Calmed
Why can't we just be as one?
With the earth
With life and living
Doing and feeling
Expression and absorption
A calming peace
Simple appreciation for what is there, what profound things are here for you.
With the earth
With life and living
Doing and feeling
Expression and absorption
A calming peace
Simple appreciation for what is there, what profound things are here for you.
surrounded
Have you ever just stopped and looked around for a minute? What the hell are you doing? What is this? This seems like such a joke. I worthlessly drain, surrounded by my own filth and consumer packaging. What things do you see that are truly giving any pleasure? What of that pleasure? It never seems to have been that good or worth its inevitable trouble to get or the consequences of its indulgence.
Look at each item. Pause and read its story. Where did it enter your life and why? You don’t need that shit. It isn’t doing anything for you now, it barely did anything before, but you had to have it. This is your life focus. This empty can is the reason you woke and fought through a day. This pack of cigarettes and its twenty individual containers of euphoric relaxation is the reason you struggle and cry. You became a hardworking man for this phone.
This is not life. This is not feeling.
In the afternoon
It was an interesting experience. Small bursts of mild bliss coupled with moderate connections. It's different to live now, I know so much more of life and love and reality. I knew exactly what every feeling meant, how serious to consider absorbtion and it's necessity. I understand myself in such a logical way from exterior. If I could reduce the fog, see clearly the rest of the world, I would have complete control and power.
Losing and gaining a pointless continuance
I haven’t a thing to say, I have no pure thoughts of any kind. Why can’t I simplify my mind and complete a thought other than despair and pain? I cannot create anything when all I want to do is destroy myself. I thought I had a core of creation, and uncontrollable urge to bring new worlds into ours, it seems I just have a different way of seeing the wretched things that are already here, already discovered and finished.
I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what I am or what I am mean to do, or be.
I am a writer, I am a sculptor, a photographer, I fully express the world’s thoughts.
I have never written a damn thing, I am the only appreciator and understanding soul of my sculpture, my photography is repetitive and consists of emptiness re-enacted, I have no thoughts the world cares about, or anyone for that matter.
I am a writer, I am a sculptor, a photographer, I fully express the world’s thoughts.
I have never written a damn thing, I am the only appreciator and understanding soul of my sculpture, my photography is repetitive and consists of emptiness re-enacted, I have no thoughts the world cares about, or anyone for that matter.
Do we each have a calling? What does that really mean anyways? It’s like saying fate, or destiny, solid un-deniable words like, soulmate or obsession; it’s too much to say. You don’t really know anything for sure until it happens. Some grand painter lost deep within the exterior of some simple server of ales in a nowhere bar somewhere with no knowledge of his inherent talents and passions within because he has no interest in art, never gave it a try. If I am to believe I am meant to be anything, I have to believe we are all living a misguided mess of a life and wasting ourselves. Maybe that is the only key, everything must be tried at least once to see if it can be done better than anyone else in history, by you and with no effort on your part at all, as it truly come that naturally.
Well, this seems more and more bullshit with increased thought. One must just try anything I suppose, just stick with it long enough and you will at the least be good at it eventually, then that’s worth something, sort of. Now we are back in the realities of just picking the one that makes the most money. There is always this reality of structure, socially and economically that just creates an existence of mere existence.
I feel I am on another anti 9-5, rat race rut lifestyle rant again.
It just leaves such a void; I cannot be the only one who sees this. It’s not a matter of intelligence, or ignorant bliss, there is no philosophy work involved here, I assure you. If anyone who is capable of loving or even dreaming is out there, I am sure they have some emotions as mine, some need to really do something and be something other than the culturally created citizen.
I have an altered view of course. I am overwhelmed with emotion, passionately and obsessively driven in paranoid, devastating realizations and constant struggled need to break free and be. I honestly hope there are few others on my level or more.
In closing…
Title unavailable
I just don't want anything, dreams, thoughts, wants, feelings of any kind.
I am not an artist.
I just want to slip into the American rut. Work to pay bills that allow me to call a place home and maybe watch some TV before bed. Get wasted on weekends to pass the time and snub realities. There is nothing to offer, especially from a broken man as myself.
Exist, you don't have to make a difference, contribute, or leave a mark.
Perspective, we are really nothing anyway. A spec in a flash of light. In a thousand years, even hundreds, why did you matter? Might as well get high and fuck, it's just my own mind's experience in my own short glimpse of reality.
Consider life as a day off, what would you do? Something productive? Help others? Lay around all day drinking stout, close the night with masturbation and falling asleep to a film with subtitles? These are all lifelong achievements depending how life is lived. They all have the same impact and can sum up a man's existence on this shit orb.
I need to turn off, live simple and easy, just do until you are done. It is a common system, most are ok with it. You do not have to be something special. Just doing what must be done in order to take care of head.
I am not an artist.
I just want to slip into the American rut. Work to pay bills that allow me to call a place home and maybe watch some TV before bed. Get wasted on weekends to pass the time and snub realities. There is nothing to offer, especially from a broken man as myself.
Exist, you don't have to make a difference, contribute, or leave a mark.
Perspective, we are really nothing anyway. A spec in a flash of light. In a thousand years, even hundreds, why did you matter? Might as well get high and fuck, it's just my own mind's experience in my own short glimpse of reality.
Consider life as a day off, what would you do? Something productive? Help others? Lay around all day drinking stout, close the night with masturbation and falling asleep to a film with subtitles? These are all lifelong achievements depending how life is lived. They all have the same impact and can sum up a man's existence on this shit orb.
I need to turn off, live simple and easy, just do until you are done. It is a common system, most are ok with it. You do not have to be something special. Just doing what must be done in order to take care of head.
Corner store
Packed with barely clothed, over amped Americans with motorized entertainments spilling over into trailers. All the liquids, gasses and solids being collected in anticipation if their purchased thrills and adventures for the day. A bright sky is calling, heat, air, an environment of pointless action. Good times spent of your perfect ruts lived, routine fun. The small mazes of consumables are impossible to traverse. The crowds further thicken to the only point of exit. With the satisfaction of plastic card swipes, they are eventually released.
I just wanted a pack of cigarettes...
I just wanted a pack of cigarettes...
I thought
I had the most brilliant thoughts earlier today, around one o’clock, I believe. The only thing of significance I recall is my insistence on coming up with a system of recording said thoughts due to constant loss. Apparently, a pocket recorder is in great need. It must be something separate from my phone and completely purposed for journalistic expression only. A pod might be perfect. Wi-fi can connect to my phone, laptop and related apps and programs.
What am I to do with all of these redundant, repetitive journal and digital records? They tell no story. A collection of my “writing” would evolve into nothing. Yet, I continue this urge to copy and express my worthless commentary. If I can focus on the grand explosions of ideas that truly need to be shared, then there is a profound reason to present myself and my thoughts. Alas, I have mudded and filthed this export into a rambling personal journal of useless thoughts.
These thoughts should be on paper.
Brilliant, guided descriptions of mundane masterpieces of life and phylisophical investigations of nothing and everything are to be recorded, spoken and visualised through comfortable, free-flowing text and language. That is to be gifted. That which is real, life, energy and connection.
Words are words and I am asleep
For now…
Facebook is dumb
This is why I want no part of your adolescent time wasting "experiment". Are our lives that simplistically empty? Mass audience does not equal an appropriate or useful one, it is certainly unnecessary in any regard. Is it a longing for approval? Or fame, even if it be only among peers or localized? Is it a self made retrospect used at low times, reminiscing days of worth? Pointless points continue with no reasonable traits. Time wasted, much like the time wasted here writing this, is the most regrettable of reminicents. It all becomes a cycle of wasted time, from its repetative, simple creation and progressively in existence lost while staring into its pixels during drifting thoughts of "where did my life go wrong?"
Next
Write words that do things and make things happen. Tell a story of clarity and significance. Blow minds with unique style, language and knowledge. Waste your time.
Retro Hope
If there is any way to re-gain those times of hope, infused with life's lessons since, there may be a completion of a positive circle.
Something is always missing, something is always lacking, but often inhibitions prevalent are not the same. The things lacked, are later found to be in surplus. It is as though it is a mere misalignment of voids and peaks. At any given moment, you are simply not good enough.
Something is always missing, something is always lacking, but often inhibitions prevalent are not the same. The things lacked, are later found to be in surplus. It is as though it is a mere misalignment of voids and peaks. At any given moment, you are simply not good enough.
-2.jpg)
A brief vision
Holding you tight, feeling your body pressed to mine, our hearts aligned, your skin, your scent, your hand firmed to my chest, it was the most intense, alive, whole and purposed, the most pure and right, that I have felt in all my life.
It sparked an urge and certainty to make the most vivid love to you. To feel your body and soul from within. To experience you, your body and existence.
It sparked an urge and certainty to make the most vivid love to you. To feel your body and soul from within. To experience you, your body and existence.
a day
So this time it’s 36. Truly one of my saddest days. I have a few memorable days of deepest despair. It was even reminiscent of 18, an odd and disturbing perspective. I remember at 18, feeling worthless, wasted and void of a future of any worth. How profound, how real. 18 years ago I wanted to die, give up, I had nothing and was nothing, now 18 years later, a whole second lifetime later, where am I? much the same, though learned of the further desperate realities of life and the world, still a simple waste, a waste of another 18 years, a waste of another lifetime. I have done nothing, I still am no one.
spilling nothing
I am in a haze. I do not feel anything. It is odd really. I felt as though I was leaving everything. I felt as I was no one. Among no one. Gone. I have to do something, I cannot just sit here fucked up and zoned on colored light.
How could I possibly write anything?
I do not know who I am, I feel nauseas, it is s the closest condition to an emotion I have right now. I wish it would go away. I am so fucked. My mind is fucked. I am in far too deep.
I rejected some toxins, I am clearer now. Now to thought. This clarity brings to mind that I should not even be typing, I find this irritating and it takes the personal touch from any real ideas. I need a fuller expressive experience. I need to write, in pen or old classic graphite on parchment, lined flatness, or textured canvas. Script itself is art; it often shows the emotion as clearly as the words themselves. Arranged sticks and swirls, displayed on sheets have their own visual appeal, if it can be translated into an actual language, then understood with some kind of validity, it becomes two forms of expression. And with that thought, I am off to get my ledger and graphite.
to me
It is very, very sad. True, unavoidably so. It is over and gone. I am no longer in stages of drama; it cannot be thought of, considered or dwelled upon. It cannot be saved. It is not a matter of winning or losing, reason or fight. The soul has left, if it was ever there, it certainly is no longer. It is not a matter of anything coming back, or re-firing and forging. No scenarios encourage success. Things cannot be returned, re-directed, or forgotten. It is not a matter of hopelessness anymore, but of brutal, cold acceptance.
My life must be lived now. I must grow as me and I alone. The primary focal point is now perpetually blurred beyond any level of adjustment or regard to distance. The most important things known to the world must now be the least important, the forgotten and unneeded things. Yes, this world has changed, it is hollow and tastelessly different. It is up to I alone to create a new one, one of me, one of self-preservation, one of happiness with my existence.
I must forget who I was, what I wanted and dreamt of. I must let it all go, most importantly, I must let myself go.
And go I shall...
Drastic changes must be made
No more nicotine: cut way back at minimum
You are not wanted-let it go
You are alone: accept it
Drop all consideration of suicide-not an option
Resist impulses, the dangerous ones
Resist impulses, the dangerous ones
Money: get real job, sell some shit (art)?
Structure-repair schedule of day/night
Plan-stop wasting days and weeks of no accomplishment
Overwhelmed: too much to do. too much want, too much need and far too much is wrong
Refocus: forget about your heart, there is no soul
Appearance:dress like a member of society
Health: eat normally, drink normally, avoid the toxins and chemicals
Pleasure is subjective,so is its need
Cut back on the drugs, resist the urge to go deeper
Pleasure is subjective,so is its need
Cut back on the drugs, resist the urge to go deeper
Live life: do something, anything, experience something
Anger: stop hating yourself and the world
Racing thoughts clouding the mind-relax, stupefy yourself, forget everything, just be
Stop breaking: progress is repeatedly lost and painful releases do not motivate
Remember that nothing matters. Just do. Nothing is on its way so do not concern yourself with receiving.
You must go on.
You must go on.
I'll do it in a couple days...
Wednesday. That's when everything will happen. Yes, I can feel it. how many things have been pushed back until Wednesday? It may just be the start of overwhelming lists of never did's, and really need to's. I must release though, it has been far too long. Something must happen, be created, be finished, anything uplifting in any way is starved for. I cannot let myself break any longer. This story is going nowhere and shows no signs of change if it is simply allowed. I am allowing it.
I will find myself. I will be.
No escapes or fantastic, ridiculous dreams to follow. But not a thoughtless machine of environment either. There is no where to run to anyhow. All paths lead to the same place at this chapter.
Wait for it.
I will survive, break free and breathe.
I will experience and live. Fuck and laugh. Stomp and climb. Separate and lead. Claim power and respect. Mend my soul (or find it).
I will find myself. I will be.
No escapes or fantastic, ridiculous dreams to follow. But not a thoughtless machine of environment either. There is no where to run to anyhow. All paths lead to the same place at this chapter.
Wait for it.
I will survive, break free and breathe.
I will experience and live. Fuck and laugh. Stomp and climb. Separate and lead. Claim power and respect. Mend my soul (or find it).
Truths and truths
I realize I cannot count on you anymore.
You weren't there for me.
When I was at the bottom, the most intense pain, loss and need. you didn't feel it, didn't respond. Did not help. Did not care.
I had never needed you more, I was so alone, I am so alone. I asked, pried and tried, begged and cried.
It was an accident that I survived.
A shame.
You were my only solid.
What are you now? What am I now? Who are these fucking people? I don't know either of them or what they are.
A shame, as well.
Perhaps it was meant to be, or not to be. It was all just a dream.
A shame.
Hell.
You weren't there for me.
When I was at the bottom, the most intense pain, loss and need. you didn't feel it, didn't respond. Did not help. Did not care.
I had never needed you more, I was so alone, I am so alone. I asked, pried and tried, begged and cried.
It was an accident that I survived.
A shame.
You were my only solid.
What are you now? What am I now? Who are these fucking people? I don't know either of them or what they are.
A shame, as well.
Perhaps it was meant to be, or not to be. It was all just a dream.
A shame.
Hell.
What to do...
I cannot and refuse to be taken away and locked up; I do not need a room of soft walls and no corners, locked inside without option. Treatment is a joke. I've no options. No horizon or burst.
My writing it shit, it suffers in its focus of pain, death, and perpetual darkness. No growth. Nothing of creation, excitement, wild unfiltered needs, adventure or spirit, experience. With no novel work in at the least, half a year; not that it was good work anyways, but it was something. Art? Sculpture? hell, there is nothing there, projects are at a quality level matching that of emotionless assigned pieces from an art student in high school. I feel nothing, I'm not even an artist? Who am I? Am I really nothing?
I think I will just go with the previously thought out option of entering the junkie lifestyle, destined to die alone in an alley.
Maybe then I will just be a poem.
My writing it shit, it suffers in its focus of pain, death, and perpetual darkness. No growth. Nothing of creation, excitement, wild unfiltered needs, adventure or spirit, experience. With no novel work in at the least, half a year; not that it was good work anyways, but it was something. Art? Sculpture? hell, there is nothing there, projects are at a quality level matching that of emotionless assigned pieces from an art student in high school. I feel nothing, I'm not even an artist? Who am I? Am I really nothing?
I think I will just go with the previously thought out option of entering the junkie lifestyle, destined to die alone in an alley.
Maybe then I will just be a poem.
why?
I want my fucking life back.
It will not happen.
I am not ready to go, but I am ready to explode out of existence.
It will not happen.
I am not ready to go, but I am ready to explode out of existence.
regular
The torturous ups and downs of life continue. But with the regular pains of life come uncontrollable emotion and that emotion that must be released. Heartbreaking trauma, uncontrollable downward spirals, how can it be stopped? You can’t change what’s happening or the world around you, it must be dealt with.
…or at least released.
Life isn’t that torturous really, I mean emotional pain comes and goes, we all have it, we all feel it, often very differently however, but sitting there with a broken heart in some dingy one bedroom apartment with no future, no hope of success, nothing but a bottle for love may be rock bottom and near death for someone.
But come on..have you no concept of the real world around you? I mean the world, man. Not your world, but the world. There is unbelievable suffrage and pain out there, and you’re going to die over some bullshit?
So, anyways, I suppose my point is really that most of our pain is easily dealt with, and it can be used as a fuel of expression as I often write and sculpt emotionally. The more emotion that gets through, the better my piece is in the end. Though others may not read or even see the emotion conveyed, it is clearly there to me and that is why it was created in the first place.
With pain, anger and sadness being the most dramatic and overwhelming of the emotions, it is often the best fuel. Though happiness is the greatest emotion on many levels, not to mention the most desired, it’s not always easy to achieve, particularly for some individuals on this earth. The other feelings just kind of happen.
So maybe we should just get them out, release them, express them. Possibly others with similar feelings will experience this expression and share it, understand it and maybe even find comfort in it. This validates your released emotion and expression; you are doing something with it. Let’s hope maybe even something good will come out of all this bad.
If nothing else, the release is for me, or I should say, the one who is expressing it in whatever form they have chosen.
I am certainly not defining art and/or expressionism, not even on a personal level, I am just ranting.
stop, just stop
It is one thing to feel there is no reason to live, no one to care if you exist or not, there is a whole other aspect added to the growing darkness when you are directly told this fact.
state.
My soul is drained as I rest my ached head upon pillows of rusted steel, blurred visions of internal emotion become simplistic external releases. Sleep is welcomed.
review
I can't even say for sure what went on in those early times together, the mutually crucial points of possible life and death. But I did get a feeling I "saved" you, I'm not sure how significant the level, but you were truly on the edge. Maybe that is all it was meant to be. If all I ever contributed to you and this world was keeping you in it, than that's fine.
go
I have to get out of here. I don't know where here or there is, but there sounds much better, regardless. Things are growing where they should not, things are fading and dying where crucial.
An estate sale of all things tagged by my DNA must go, at any level of funding, anything to provide the fuel of never looking back would be greatly appreciated by this misfiring blob riding in my skull.
A solitary, hobo life is even enticing, there cannot be failure with no achievements or goals set within.
Interpret it how one must, an exit is an exit.
Emotions and interactions are useless, only those which boost myself to the next moment of validity are necessary.
Rely on nothing and no one. No things once thought to be sure will be considered. Will the sun rise tomorrow? It is unclear, a theory at best, but one not to be considered.
An estate sale of all things tagged by my DNA must go, at any level of funding, anything to provide the fuel of never looking back would be greatly appreciated by this misfiring blob riding in my skull.
A solitary, hobo life is even enticing, there cannot be failure with no achievements or goals set within.
Interpret it how one must, an exit is an exit.
Emotions and interactions are useless, only those which boost myself to the next moment of validity are necessary.
Rely on nothing and no one. No things once thought to be sure will be considered. Will the sun rise tomorrow? It is unclear, a theory at best, but one not to be considered.
working on it
With this mentality of life one may consider just ending the pain and frustration, or more wisely, just give up on everything known and start living like this is your last day alive. But that mindset is greatly flawed. If you truly knew it was your last day, it wouldn't be a focus on "living life to the fullest" and you sure as hell would not get anything of importance done, it would just be a mad orgy of self-indulgence in every way. I wouldn't even stop to eat between the hard drugs, constant sex and stealing of things I could never dream to own. So what other simplistic version of this mentality can be applied? life is generally wasted, there is so much to be done and feel. It all can be experienced. Maybe one just needs a few weeks, maybe one needs to find something within that drives without all the impurities of man made and found distractions of reality.
That may certainly be the case, but I don't feel that I am that deep. If there is nothing within to find, then overwhelm yourself with the chemicals and damp pleasures created and lost among the concrete corners and grassy curbs of the world.
That may certainly be the case, but I don't feel that I am that deep. If there is nothing within to find, then overwhelm yourself with the chemicals and damp pleasures created and lost among the concrete corners and grassy curbs of the world.
Tutgjklnggbkb
Sickening self, break off more fragments of existence.
You, yourself, are just a pebble.
There is no hope of you to be carved into something else. A structure, a previous core, at minimum, is required. From outward the basis of existence would show. But there is no hope of that when there is no mass to begin with.
Stand tall and small, fade out like a fizzled spark, starting no flame, initializing no blaze.
All creation and time to create a boulder of existence mocked and wasted on emotion.
There is no product of the process.
You, yourself, are just a pebble.
There is no hope of you to be carved into something else. A structure, a previous core, at minimum, is required. From outward the basis of existence would show. But there is no hope of that when there is no mass to begin with.
Stand tall and small, fade out like a fizzled spark, starting no flame, initializing no blaze.
All creation and time to create a boulder of existence mocked and wasted on emotion.
There is no product of the process.
Time
Must I accept reality?
It may be time to follow that straight line to a dark explosion.
Even a roller-coaster of life starts over, cycles again, it's all in a closed loop, but I've run out of track.
That's a whole other issue.
I hate you, all of you out there, you fraudulent proprietors of peace and enlightenment. Gainers of trust and whole, only taking without production.
A drain with no existing spigot, no supply, no offerings of even contentment. You fucks and twigs only looking for self-preservation and power, no thought, depth, or soul in your opinions.
I hate those wretched speakers of bright clouded peaks obtainable to the weakest minded, protected few.
Hated forced action and reaction to subjects never asked of.
I hate this fucking world, it's meager organisms and the short bursts of light encircling it.
Time for change, dismissal, abandonment and climax.
Realize the hatred within, the emptiness will fill.
This is a time for sickness, hate and dirt.
I hate life
I hate love
I hate you all
It may be time to follow that straight line to a dark explosion.
Even a roller-coaster of life starts over, cycles again, it's all in a closed loop, but I've run out of track.
That's a whole other issue.
I hate you, all of you out there, you fraudulent proprietors of peace and enlightenment. Gainers of trust and whole, only taking without production.
A drain with no existing spigot, no supply, no offerings of even contentment. You fucks and twigs only looking for self-preservation and power, no thought, depth, or soul in your opinions.
I hate those wretched speakers of bright clouded peaks obtainable to the weakest minded, protected few.
Hated forced action and reaction to subjects never asked of.
I hate this fucking world, it's meager organisms and the short bursts of light encircling it.
Time for change, dismissal, abandonment and climax.
Realize the hatred within, the emptiness will fill.
This is a time for sickness, hate and dirt.
I hate life
I hate love
I hate you all
Quote
Besides which, she would never understand me because I like too many things and get all confused and hung-up running from one falling star to another till I drop. This is the night, what it does to you. I had nothing to offer anybody except my own confusion.
-Kerouac
-Kerouac
Nonsense
Peacaquility in a formulatory righteous and potent depressciousness conditionary force resulted in a reactival destructionalated state now glowing.
pass through. part one
Winding twisting corners, beats driven through a warm breeze of outdoor intrusive reality. Focus is on the blurred. Blind to only the right and behind. Lights and solids scroll. Every other being is background, as important as a random pole. No world but the simple immediate surroundings.
Proceed with no caution. Proceed with force. Proceed with triumphant, glorious laughter in an atmosphere of idiocy and simplistic pleasures easily gained.
Push on into nowhere with a destination of nothing. The most well thought out, detailed plans are destined for failure. Preceding thoughts are just as useless as reminiscing the regrets of yesterdays.
Onward to the non-existent goals and acquirements. Reasoning and realization is of no concern and avoided in all instances.
There is no yesterday, no tomorrow, no somedays or remember whens. There is a now, then another now. Once it becomes a then, it is nothing.
Nothing may be the only goal, if such a word could be used. Or maybe the goal is everything. Either point is unimportant as this is only now, as it will always be.
This is only a beginning; it will always be the beginning. Progress is not recorded, or reasoned.
What kind of wild adventure of mundane convenience stores on the edges of eternal light and dark? Backgrounds may present themselves as characters other than posts. Interaction between organisms may create sparks leading to unexpected pleasures. Logos, icons and soft bedding under an orange light merge into a haze of momentary pleasure. Peaks are challenged, reached and climaxed. Then float softly into the hot air of the polyester valley.
Possibilities, curiosities and scenarios flash, contact and repeat. Duration unknown, thoughts will not be wasted.
This mad adventure is unending and unstoppable, with no motivation.
-18.jpg)
faker
I cannot write of anything but despair. I've become so lost. Every form of expression is dark, weather intended or not, the results are always the same.
The only new revelations are more devastation and regret, realizations of mistakes ongoing and growing. Everything draining and slipping away.
I need to find life, break it open, defeat it.
Move forward to something that is not there. Cling to the most unsure things buried deep in the memorial sparks of the mind.
Avoid all that is pointless, not in a worldly way, but a selfish exploration way. Concerns focused only on lifting what was once hollow until it fills with a heavy core of energy and becomes too hard to carry anymore.
Focus on what speck of life may be left.
The only new revelations are more devastation and regret, realizations of mistakes ongoing and growing. Everything draining and slipping away.
I need to find life, break it open, defeat it.
Move forward to something that is not there. Cling to the most unsure things buried deep in the memorial sparks of the mind.
Avoid all that is pointless, not in a worldly way, but a selfish exploration way. Concerns focused only on lifting what was once hollow until it fills with a heavy core of energy and becomes too hard to carry anymore.
Focus on what speck of life may be left.
Then there was...
There are only so many films, images and memories I can replay internally and externally.
There is such futile resistance in suppressing the cravings, needs and urges of sensuous want.
You are wanted and wanted badly, creating a clouded mind, scarce of any other focus but the desire to experience you.
There is such futile resistance in suppressing the cravings, needs and urges of sensuous want.
You are wanted and wanted badly, creating a clouded mind, scarce of any other focus but the desire to experience you.
tit
I am sleeping.
Running with scissors.
Tape
Applesauce
Butter
Blade
Establish advice
Indulgence
Look around...
I miss everything.
Running with scissors.
Tape
Applesauce
Butter
Blade
Establish advice
Indulgence
Look around...
I miss everything.
Getting something to eat...
I open a drawer in the kitchen to acquire a spoon, there are two, nestled tightly together, reflecting in one another's form and likeness. Fitting so well together at rest. I became jealous and angry with these spoons and their tranquil life shared. I retrieve one of them, bend it out of shape and throw it back in the drawer far from the other. I slam the drawer shut and lean on the counter, aware of my maddening reaction. I feel great sadness build inside, a swelling, pressure crushes my temples, reality of life overcomes me as I stare into the counter. This is no way to live.
-17.jpg)
this
Absolutely nothing is to be taken literally, seriously, or truthfully, including this sentence.
insomniatic indulgence
Utilizing the avoidance of the true, unfiltered dreams of deep sleep as an excuse to remain awake completes the circle of rejection.
-16.jpg)
-4.jpg)
Evaluation. Conclusion.
Mindless, thoughtless, insensate state
Floating in a sea of hate
Emptiness inside
A future left to hide
My only consolation
Constant masturbation
Loss of hope, guidance, reason, trust and treason
Take me to the void and shove me in
I see your hatred and coldness within
I ruled you once;
I took the stage, through overwhelming rage, black hearted mage
To my soul you have pulled
From my desperate hold
You've left me old
Broken, lost
At no cost
To you, my friend
And you'll do it again
I've given up on life as i know it
Just look at me, I clearly show it
Through phases of pain, weakness and shame
I have no name
No one to blame
I expected it when it came
Why should I be surprised?
Long ago I realized
This shit world was not for me
I thought I had learned a thing or two
To change my point of view
I was right all along
Life is not a song
But a screeching, horrible racket
It's not to be lived
You must attack it
Forces crush, push and knock out of line
Scratching and slashing
Blood pours like wine
I cannot define
The reason was mine
Seven worlds intertwine
Take some pills, you ll be fine
What to make of this
Unachievable bliss
Lie down alongside the noise of the street
Destroy all the dreams you meet
Make your shut down discrete
If the early bursts of yellow sky
Is powerless to peel the eye
Then the ultimate failure is done
The darkness has won.
S.A.
Floating in a sea of hate
Emptiness inside
A future left to hide
My only consolation
Constant masturbation
Loss of hope, guidance, reason, trust and treason
Take me to the void and shove me in
I see your hatred and coldness within
I ruled you once;
I took the stage, through overwhelming rage, black hearted mage
To my soul you have pulled
From my desperate hold
You've left me old
Broken, lost
At no cost
To you, my friend
And you'll do it again
I've given up on life as i know it
Just look at me, I clearly show it
Through phases of pain, weakness and shame
I have no name
No one to blame
I expected it when it came
Why should I be surprised?
Long ago I realized
This shit world was not for me
I thought I had learned a thing or two
To change my point of view
I was right all along
Life is not a song
But a screeching, horrible racket
It's not to be lived
You must attack it
Forces crush, push and knock out of line
Scratching and slashing
Blood pours like wine
I cannot define
The reason was mine
Seven worlds intertwine
Take some pills, you ll be fine
What to make of this
Unachievable bliss
Lie down alongside the noise of the street
Destroy all the dreams you meet
Make your shut down discrete
If the early bursts of yellow sky
Is powerless to peel the eye
Then the ultimate failure is done
The darkness has won.
S.A.
Quote
It seems that I have an infinite capacity to be unhappy. How can I be so stupid as to waste my life away being unhappy like this! What am I going to do? When will I realize that I have a great life of my own?
Well, there is still time before it's too late...
(and I don't understand it.)
- Kerouac
Well, there is still time before it's too late...
(and I don't understand it.)
- Kerouac
two and three
Break free of your horrible self, impulsive and true
Create your life, it must be formed, forged
How
you've fucked it up already.
You can't think about it, that's not pure and from the soul.
Just fucking let it go.
Have no more feelings.
There is no love
I feel hollow
I cannot find a soulmate without a proper soul.
What the fuck is a soul? What is it to me? I really don't feel anything anymore.
There is nothing really.
I don't want to try anymore. It's never going to work.
I feel nothing.
I haven't broken free of anything.
Create your life, it must be formed, forged
How
you've fucked it up already.
You can't think about it, that's not pure and from the soul.
Just fucking let it go.
Have no more feelings.
There is no love
I feel hollow
I cannot find a soulmate without a proper soul.
What the fuck is a soul? What is it to me? I really don't feel anything anymore.
There is nothing really.
I don't want to try anymore. It's never going to work.
I feel nothing.
I haven't broken free of anything.
Advice
If you feel you are about to fall, jump.
make it count.
If you are on the edge, just go ahead, step off.
Hanging on by a thread?
Snap that fucker and go down hard.
make it count.
If you are on the edge, just go ahead, step off.
Hanging on by a thread?
Snap that fucker and go down hard.
somber
Another leveling off, re-stocked my favorite strain of tea. Overall a somewhat useful day, at minimal, in that regard anyways. I’m still projecting leads of every kind. Pathetic, bitch labor is fine. I’d be really good with some high end art compensation, but seems highly unlikely. My skills and talent must be useful to someone; I just can’t find anyone right now.
I don’t know why I chose such a useless path. It promises no future at all and only entices a dream. A point of at least moderate stability is required before one can even consider chasing the dream.
I’m even getting to the level where I’ll take lesser versions of the dream, fuck, I’ll take anything at this point. I should have gotten into a computer programing, or just some kind of simplified, drone gig. No backup plan, no center of incoming supply, needs or wants to keep the growing flow going.
I need power
-14.jpg)
the closing sky
Sharp stone mountains close in
Spinning darkness clusters and tightens around the mind
Twisting and grinding sanity
What little light left is blinding
It is to guide as it cannot be avoided
Awful, awful little fucking light.
Spinning darkness clusters and tightens around the mind
Twisting and grinding sanity
What little light left is blinding
It is to guide as it cannot be avoided
Awful, awful little fucking light.
Photography
I’m still working with the technical side, the physical mechanics of it all, but when it comes to content and composition, I’m growing quickly. I’m finally starting to see some examples of expression. I always shit on photography as being so lacking of emotion and expression. Just a quick-fix, low effort way to call yourself an artist. I need to physically change a form. Use my body and soul. With hard steeled tools, preferably powered and dangerous, along with the flesh and bone tools of the mind to unite the piece with the artist. But I can see it a little more now; you can get some shit across. If there is a deep enough moment, influenced or created by its environment in particular, then you can catch it. You can often catch an odd slice, or a mural-like version of reality, a commentary of one’s placement.
It’s still pretty weak though…
breaking news
So notihng is coming through. I have no new achievements to speak of. I took a few steps forward and was suddenly, with profound force, slammed backwards.
I really want to just speak of general life, the artistic view of things, if you will, but I just can't seem to get to that place. All that is ever on my mind now is regret, guilt, loss and lonliness. Everything feels so empty, if there is any feeling at all.
So why this explosive, demeaning world with euphoric highs becoming fewer and farthur between?
...
I really want to just speak of general life, the artistic view of things, if you will, but I just can't seem to get to that place. All that is ever on my mind now is regret, guilt, loss and lonliness. Everything feels so empty, if there is any feeling at all.
So why this explosive, demeaning world with euphoric highs becoming fewer and farthur between?
...
choice
Why do I have nothing to say?
O my divinity, I'm brilliant!
But unclear as to why I am so stupid.
When will you succumb and grow weary of the cosmic wallpaper, leave the gold needles behind and rest in grey grass beneath a tree of bewildered blue leaves?
The deafening sounds of words fading into buzzes. The plastic, repetative ticks of a machine are progessively replaced with nothing.
Nothing progresses into nothing further.
Was this the correct route?
Well known, the less travelled cloud is often the most wicked, yet least useful
There is no more important thing in this world than an orgasm.
Words can be smoked and should be.
O my divinity, I'm brilliant!
But unclear as to why I am so stupid.
When will you succumb and grow weary of the cosmic wallpaper, leave the gold needles behind and rest in grey grass beneath a tree of bewildered blue leaves?
The deafening sounds of words fading into buzzes. The plastic, repetative ticks of a machine are progessively replaced with nothing.
Nothing progresses into nothing further.
Was this the correct route?
Well known, the less travelled cloud is often the most wicked, yet least useful
There is no more important thing in this world than an orgasm.
Words can be smoked and should be.
the latest
I've run out, I've hit the wall. There is a simple solution. I've reached an awakening, or a deep sleep.
process...
process...
Quotes.
Don't get hung up on difficult, miserable discoveries of your "true self" - rather, enjoy and goof off (and thereby avoid these self-knowledges.)
-Kerouac
-Kerouac
fake it i like it
Polaroid grins and half shut eyes
Bitter sadness suppressed
No thought may run free
Let it be
Goals are vividly unclear
You're fucking lucky to be here.
Get what you can, I suppose.
There's really not much else to be done. It's quite a state I am in. Nothing I'd ever imagined. Life in the bunker is so unusual and demeaning. Time, light, night/day, all lost. Self placement is confusing, to say the least.
But deep loneliness is always prevalent. Failure is blatant, even harsh. The simplest of things have turned into sad memories of reality.
I'll get out of here some day.
I just don't know the way.
Bitter sadness suppressed
No thought may run free
Let it be
Goals are vividly unclear
You're fucking lucky to be here.
Get what you can, I suppose.
There's really not much else to be done. It's quite a state I am in. Nothing I'd ever imagined. Life in the bunker is so unusual and demeaning. Time, light, night/day, all lost. Self placement is confusing, to say the least.
But deep loneliness is always prevalent. Failure is blatant, even harsh. The simplest of things have turned into sad memories of reality.
I'll get out of here some day.
I just don't know the way.
is, is
Life is very serious, it is complicated, a complete unknown and riddled with pain, in all truths, it cannot possibly be taken seriously as it is so simple, obvious, and consumed with pleasure.
Frustration, confusion and a clear head will get you through it.
Frustration, confusion and a clear head will get you through it.
Statement
A dizzying twist at the edge of reality.Vertigo with no where to go. Your brain may kill you.
why
Holy shit, why am I still here? I have no idea what is happening to me or my life anymore. I feel like I have no control at all. Everything important is slipping away. Even the simple shit I expected was guaranteed not to leave me is going or gone. I don't understand what I have really done to deserve this. I am against towering odds, nothing is ever as simple as it seems, everything hurts more than expected. There are virtually no goals or reason any more.
I have always enjoyed attacking the challenges life throws, especially that feeling of achievement and grand esteem after destroying one's problem, but when your whole life can be basically described as one big fucking problem it may just be too much. There is no solid object left to cling to, no fallback safety measure or reliable structure of any kind. Nothing is of any certainty. I can't even tell when something good happens or something was done right. Even accomplished goals are invisible or just quickly snubbed out by overlapping moments of complete frustration and failure.
Am I the only one on this sinking ship?
Am I the only desperate soul left alone in a deserted wasteland with one bullet?
What motivates survival when you don't even know why you're alive? If this is all the meaning I have left then I have lost.
I have always enjoyed attacking the challenges life throws, especially that feeling of achievement and grand esteem after destroying one's problem, but when your whole life can be basically described as one big fucking problem it may just be too much. There is no solid object left to cling to, no fallback safety measure or reliable structure of any kind. Nothing is of any certainty. I can't even tell when something good happens or something was done right. Even accomplished goals are invisible or just quickly snubbed out by overlapping moments of complete frustration and failure.
Am I the only one on this sinking ship?
Am I the only desperate soul left alone in a deserted wasteland with one bullet?
What motivates survival when you don't even know why you're alive? If this is all the meaning I have left then I have lost.
winter
Fair grey days of winter, yes I feel you even hours after I've left you. Every sound, the floors, the colors of everything are all different, how the nicotine mocks me.
What cycles of blame, rotating excuses change with the seasons.
Ah, that cold bitch wind blows.
The piercing shards of air are comfortably distracting.
What cycles of blame, rotating excuses change with the seasons.
Ah, that cold bitch wind blows.
The piercing shards of air are comfortably distracting.
-10.jpg)
Try it
I crave the madness
I love to lose my mind
I fear nothing
I will do anything, everything
I will know nothing
But it will all be so clear
Like a fog
A comfortable early morning mist covering the ugliness
It leaves random areas of clearness, sharpness
The rest is lost
You don't need it.
Run mad through the fog
Close your eyes if you must
Run fast and fearless
Run hard
Like your on fucking fire inside
Soon you will learn what is hidden in the fog in the most abrupt way.
A collision with yourself is imminent
I love to lose my mind
I fear nothing
I will do anything, everything
I will know nothing
But it will all be so clear
Like a fog
A comfortable early morning mist covering the ugliness
It leaves random areas of clearness, sharpness
The rest is lost
You don't need it.
Run mad through the fog
Close your eyes if you must
Run fast and fearless
Run hard
Like your on fucking fire inside
Soon you will learn what is hidden in the fog in the most abrupt way.
A collision with yourself is imminent
-8.jpg)
Answer
O lady of reason, comfort and tranquility
Bring me to that place
Tone down the madness, the sadness, the overwhelming guilt and regret
Slow down to the speed of life
Lay down with me and caress my mind and soul
Comfort my body, let it sink
Drift into your world
Why can't we always be together?
No world but yours
No world but mine
bliss
enough with the circles, damn
Here it is again, the lowest hour of the year, and so soon after a mild peak. Why was there hope? Fuck me, this will never be about anything.This isn't expression, it is just awful realities, repeatedly spread out on a screen for no one to care about. What to creativity? How could I? This was all a bad idea.
Actually, it's more like an oval, the balance is way off.
Actually, it's more like an oval, the balance is way off.
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