Why are people so hard strung on what they think is right :/
There is no definite truth, just a bunch of subjectivism, since we’re al human and none of us holds all the answers to anything.
Why plug your ears and refuse to listen to other people their experience of life?
Each person has a unique way of expressing the vitality of their souls and it’s just very unfair if you were to judge it.
No one is allowed to touch anyone’s integrity as a human being, no matter which way they want to define that integrity.
That’s what I believe.
Have I found a bit of myself by letting go of my worries and sharing my fears?
Do words truly have such power?
And does silence really hold so many answers?
That this might have been a turning point
That I might regain what I once lost
Like every hero in every story I’ve ever loved
But my enemy, this time, is myself.
I feel completely listless
Where studying once held my attention
Only flights of fantasy and things far detached from reality capture my attention
Have is dissociated?
Am I depressed?
My life was simpler when I could approximate my feelings and behaviour to criteria
But no more,
Since I fit in none
I am lost
I am nobody
I am nothing without the labels I so despise
How long have I not written poetry?
I can’t, I want to… but my muse has left me to die
Is it because I no longer feel the turmoil?
The chaos that used to rule my being?
I am bored with myself
If the price I have to pay to like myself is balance and peace
Then I would rather hate myself and be strong
Like the onslaught of seasons
Like the waves of the ocean
Leaving death in its wake as much as it gently seduces the world
I miss myself…
What have I become after “processing” my chaotic emotions?
Integrating them within my being?
Who am I now?
I was afraid this would happen
Never thought it would …actually happen.
In finally attempting to love myself
I have lost my identity.
I dislike people
Who claim to have all the answers of the universe
And cannot accept anything else than what they themselves think is right
I think you should sit down and die
Stop breathing, so I can kill you
With a bottle of correction fluid
If it bursts: mistake corrected
And we’ll all be happy, including you
You, a rich man’s last quarter
Used to dial his dying wife
A last breath
moving through her
His last words I…..you
Her last words …..you
Add ‘to’ in the middle
Who was the whore in the end ?
Was it my black pen ?
Was it this paper ?
Or something in between
Like two globes going into eachother.
Create a mutual surface
And you set your picnic basket on top
Let pigs jump out and eat them whole
As worms fly out your filthy asshole,
Then wash your hands in sin and salt
and dry your head off with pepper
Empty the empty contents into a basket
Go outside, a little un(der)dressed
Talk to walking blue blocks , they can’t hear nor see you
But they drive your cars and eat your food
Watch the hollow knight throw a raw steak at the starved, once-been princess
She will not choose happiness over steak
Travel like data and be a megabyte; spit out your children upon arrival
Run away for giant anaconda’s, just keep running… even inside a maze
And don’t forget, in space, walk towards the flesh eating plant
Be man and woman , a moment each, crazy train you must step in
And moving newspapers will warn you of your death
Play the games, collect soccerballs and run on giant rotating stone cilinders
I don’t know what they’re called…
Wipe the phone neatly with some cloth
Stand on the lightbulb and try to reach the ladder
Then you know how it feels
Touch a milk-white quartz crystal
And be calm
I tried to kill a fly
To my friends I say
‘Grow with me
Or go away’
It does not matter how many times you explain something to some people
If they do not care enough, they will not get it.
How I have changed…
How my mindspace has been rearranged
Into something liveable
Into something alive
I am no longer a broken human nor a perfect machine
Neither do I rule all that is
I am God, machine and human
In my own sphere of living
I am content
After a while, things lose even their sentimental value, to me, if there is no reason to remember the memories, that, like all things unimportant to me, get severed from the emotion I felt at that time.
This song, listening to it used to calm me down.
Now it’s just another song
This drawing, this writing, this gift
They are all meaningless like the shallow bonds they’re borne from
I live and breathe, forgetting past regressions, forgiving current ones
But the fact of the matter is, that none of you care-and I mean truly care- what goes on inside my soul.
You accept too easily what you see
Don’t you realize, that this is all just a test
And every one of you has failed?
And how I must pretend to care, when I have offended one of you
Reassure you that it’s not you I’m talking about.
Well ask yourself, do you truly care?
Does it hurt inside your soul?
And is the hurt from not being a ‘good enough friend’ or is it from truly understanding the depth of your betrayal?
I know your thoughts
I know your heart
I know your lies
But I respect your wishes