Who am i…..
Am i lost, a wanderer cast out doomed to venture further and further into the wastes of a mind only comsumed by darkness.
To have such capacity for good, and yet so demonstratively brutal a vicious intent. towards hate and artfully disseminated machinations of destruction. I have touched down where others thought not possible, to fall down a bottomless pit only to prove wrong the will of man. To be insane and realize it, truth lies in reality, lying in wait to steal unkempt breaths. fearing time, though time does not exist, but in the mind, an idea, an abstraction, a custom of knowledge, the cadence of curtailed freedoms self expression. Systemic of its intention to breed more dishonest foreboding epitaphs of humanity’s hubris. I have nothing but contempt for the human species, this race of desiccation, greed and monotony. Crude and crueler fates align, eloquently baroque beauty of selfless inhibitions, over arching narratives bleed for bleeding sake. Forgetting the one fact that stakes claim to the heart of true providence, incredulity.
Master of wanting but master of none, narrow your vision, quiet discontentment. Grasp but one thing attainable, to use as steping stones to reach the next trial that awaits.
Who is this…who am i becoming now….
I plug my ears, listening to my heart beating, and yet i can’t feel it, until i think about feeling it. Such a limited mind we have, and we expect of ourselves, to know it all. how many kilobytes of useful knowledge do we possess in this zetabyte ad infinium system we call a mind. Most can’t even string together a few paragraphs worth let alone make a cohesively affective argument. So I guess it could be said I take my literary and standard intelligence for granted; then again I’ve structured a life that can be lived with such ease, an asured fate, that any lesser mind could lead it. so if i had my persistent cumulative intellectual growth halted or even reverted back to a time i still believed in fairy tales, would it really matter. Actually it might bring me some level of peace if thats what i wanted.
Though, what do I want, what is it I’m really after when all’s said and done. What I truly want is in the course of my routine self reflection, to for once, feel that i have something concrete i can offer. When you look under the veil of who i am in the world, this mask i present, you see a depth rarely legitimate in the eyes of this world. I keep relying on my own outdated ideals, to show nothing but let be discovered the real fathoms, the unbridled elation of finding, I am more than anyone thought possible. All this has never brought me happiness. I have only known misery in this life, because instead of the intended effect of discovery of hidden ability, it has only led me to becoming an expert at subversion. And in a world where most can’t see beyond a very narrow margin, I just seem as hollow as I allowed others to see me, as a being devoid of all things, never allowing anyone to discover that, which i have become master at cloaking…….

Coming Conclusion

I want to see the sky, I want to see you lie, these words aren’t meant for you, there meant for I. Idolatry, iconoclastic, take me passed this burning matchstick. Robbed of sight and hard of hearing, lead astray to life’s grand clearing. Does the night yet long for the day, lingering fraught with agony and dismay. The tortured soul fixed between two equal impossibilities, and the walls are closing in. I feel as if I could drown in the shallow end of my intention, the weight of a decision still creeping beyond apprehension. What makes a man, how come no one seems to understand, that I wake up everyday, alone and in pain. A pain, I can not see, or taste, or touch, I’ve felt it for so long now, a desire to be known. Though, I fear I’ll miss the serene silence I’ve become accustomed to, wondering if making an impression, is really worth the trouble. Will I be a dead poet in a society of some distant future, before I finally make, my mark on the world.


This world might as well be the surface of mars to me, a barren unforgiving landscape, providing a neverending trial, of emptiness. Just pretend there’s no one here, just pretend your in a blank world, operate as if you, are the only actor left behind the curtain. Why simply stare, starved of enduring meaning, to be stricken with such cruel loneliness. To see the dull destiny that awaits, a premonition of bottomless ambition, devoid of solid ground, no further can I rise passed this fated day, beleaguered like the coming age, sidelined before I could even play. Raptured by the wrapping serpent, constrictor,  forcing my corpses heart to yet linger, beating beats beyond burden, grasping grown grievances gluttonous gorge, feeling fragments finely festering, deeply burrowing, sickening my state of mind. Drop the act, that everything is ok, destroyed now, just breathing in the pain. Go on now, master of the tamed…..

Where is my Mind

These things I have locked in a desire, so much so, that I strive to attain even a hint of there looming presence. Though, they but turn to ash and fade away, upon there moments of discovery. Can I not be promised but one selfish need. Why do I yet hide these pieces of myself? My hopes and dreams, my wants and desires, they stand but a closely guarded secret. Do I fear, if I breathe life into their agency, they will fly off into the stars without me. Forced to act with no time to think, am I truly living, if I’m scarcely behind my actions. An incongruous person, at a conjunction of spheres, the crossroad, of do I live or do I die. I often sit and ponder at this precipice; it brings me comfort, existing where most wait a lifetime to reach. The perfect lonely prospect, a place where emptiness has a purpose, nothing to take, and nothing to lose. Though, imagining being carried apart from this world, by the ferryman, I cant help but call out, asking a world beyond me now…..

did you ever truly need me? Or was I just dreaming, you ever really cared?…………….


I feel a hollowing of my aspects. A vampiric syphoning, bleeding me away from who I am. A concept of calamity, such a staunchly creeping apathy. Where have I collected I wondered, in these pools of settings sundered. Vision breaks at the horizons terminal condition. To vanish as all things do, passed the point of no returning. Time moves quickly when your alone, it runs like a casted shadow forced to flee the passing of the light. The only voice echoes it’s own reflection, a crowded place of mass deception. Am I Being hastened to meet some frightful finality, but by who or what?. The angels and demons the analogous machinations devised to explain away the mysteries of life’s cruelly fair yet cunning nature. As I still have a mind to bare witness, i ask to lessen me only if it will quite my sweet suffering. To not see this world as I do may be a blessing in these future trials. Though I can’t help but feel such scarcity wet my cheeks. I have me for the first time, since that dark age still lingering in my memory, unclasped its brutal grips. This homunculus in the recesses of my mind waiting to see without its guidance, what I’ll do. Is it me or is it you that lays claim to this life. Or have you always been waiting for me to say, I do?.


What is there to think…

Always my answer is to the thing I want most, is to strike the very thoughts from your mind. It is true if you do let lingering thoughts remain in the standing water of conscious space, they become a noxious substance.

The cost of purification has it’s own mark left. Hound thine best intention nipping at the morings dew. For a jealous hoarder of caring tongues, be so contrived in its opulence. Hath sickened air ever tasted so sweet, to the languished form i have of late become.

The grayness of your personality, causes this muting of interactions. You try so hard to keep the light in your eyes, but for all your effort you only manage a single glimmer.  From whence doth this fickle outlook manifest, slithering from the creeping depths of malice.

A magnitude of hate and anger, rises to eclipse the sun. Drawing out the spaces where a love might reside. This empty wellspring of harrowing, sit and stare, watch and wonder, feed your own mouth the words a figment would possess. Interloper to the homunculus behind these eyes, a losing of a lost self’s unknown identity, a purpose given to these moments steals the potential of being found.

The lost soul drowns its sorrow with the existential persistence of the darkness. filling up its insides so as not to be forever wanting. A contentment was realised, a torment was completed. But in these days of solitary confinement, where the dreams of a dreamer fade to ash. The illumination burns the sharpened edges, returning the form back to the beginning, when the pain was to much to bear, when the strength to stand against it was never there.

Sometimes just being left in the black fathoms is enough. Still, everytime I think of what I want most, a new void opens and the darkness grows. How do i end this vicious cycle, or does the weight of iniquity fear a relinquishing of its power.

Welcome to my asylum

i feel it….i feel it inside me, waiting, watching, whispering sweet nothings behind these eyes. the indomitable terror of not knowing when this part of me will cease and this counterpart of my essence shrouded in entropy, will be all that remains.
i try with each fatal step to abait my deepest self, my true nature. but these fateful machinations are
fleeting, for the shadow swiftly approaches midinght. if time did exist so heavily, it would seek to hold me in place and lock me away to suffocate alone; and
that… my true fear.
this thing …a thing kept buried for so long, its hurt for so long, its festered. its become….a brokenness of such magnitude and yet their is no broken glass, no air to breathe, no atom left not utilized for one goal. to torture and
molest the very mind responsible, the very mind uniquely capable to hold itself so tightly. to kill itself so softly, to stop its heart from loving, from living….from goodness.
what does a heart become if unable to love, what vicious dreams manifest.
so when will i cease?….this notion hath made me so quiet as of late. Their will be no warning, no fight before the end, just a fading, a fading of hope, of peace, of requited love, replaced by pain and hatred.
it…is coming……..welcome to my asylum…..

Remember when I used to cry

remember when i used to cry, when i use to feel something other than this pain. my heart wakes to agony, the only promise I’ve ever kept. why do i torture myself so, do i really hate myself that much, how can i and not know it. but truly what have i done to deserve nothing?. remember when i used to cry, because i dreamed of something more, i would reach for the stars and forget to touch back down, the world forgot
me as i forgot it. i lost my place, nowhere to go , no one to turn to, a lonely traveler, destination, back to a past of a wiser path. forgotten letters of the alphabet icu, do you see me, im hurting without a witness.
standing in an autumn breeze, watching the leaves fall, such beauty, such grace, a purpose of a grander scale, outside our understanding, revolution to revelation, to stop now is always a temptation. eye of the storm the seekers swarm, to find the way, forward without a way back, no time to hear me say that. I’m screaming dont leave me im to scared to go, did they disappear or did i, dissolved in dissolution, can never find the solution. am i abandoned or the abandoning, typing up my eulogy, thinking what its supposed to be, about time thats in front of me, all the pages are ruined. to many water marks, bleed the words together, probably like my dads last letter, writen with a quill feather, dear miss displeasure……….forget me, im sorry, i mean i never ment, i tried my best to hurt me and succeed, i guess their is one thing time cant heal…..self inflicted wounds……i see them every day, a constant reminder…its
never going to be the same again, so suffocate, implode, never see the light of day, but when ask, lie
and say… im ok.

when i use to cry….

Fleeting Moments

It’s amazing…..
How only a few fleeting moments….
Can steal a lifetime…

Is it only the sad that weep, or the hurt that writhe in agony.

When did I learn to feel empty, or did I just simple decide to stop yerning as a happenstance.

Take me further this mind of yor, leave me whispered, faded, yet pure.

My screams so loud they go beyond the register, only vibrations and disturbed breath remain as proof of my lamentation.

Alone I awaken, upon my face I see the time I have not taken, a duplicitous impersonation.

in these eyes I see beneath, to the truth of why my heart can’t stop breaking.

Who am I seems so antiquated, fear me not feels so out dated.

Seething hatred so cold to the touch, a calming balance found only in an ouroboros.

Peace at last in the fires of wrath, not all consuming as they’d have you believe.

an infinite means of intrinsic memory only known to gluttony.

In these moments of self discovery, Feeling the ebb and flow of reality.

I feel more me than thee…


How come no one seeks a needing like I do. They yet foster no pain as i do, harbor of the fiercest sort. I seek an entry to your heart, to creep the edges of a peaceful place. Pretending to be an outsider so I feel apart, individual, independent of this conformity. To live so completely, to have everything decided, to be definite. An aged tale, tried and true doesnt work for me anymore. A difference is needed that I yern for, a wanting so vast a chasm of the cracked earth has too no deeper wounds as the undying wish to be wholly my own man. Some semblance of separation so striking a thought, steering me closer to some self realization. To be pulled so, to feel such pressure as this to deflect from the common path. But the fear—– the fear to leave a beautifully defined path, an unfalterable condition, but how one can breathe the constant reflection of the old worlds imagined glory still sets me in awe and bewilderment. For is it not the fataliest sign of the anthropocene.

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