I think my favorite season is Fall and Winter. The colder weather helps me to be able to breath and think.
But thinking is part of my problem.
I hate memories so often. They never leave and never return when I want them to. I have tried looking at the bright side...but the memories of past days are too bitter sweet. I would have rather to have never had the experience then to simply loose it at a later time.
It's selfish I know.
Life is more intricately complex by the moment and no one understands what the smallest shift in the world might cause...but honestly...I could live without most of it.
It is not making much sense to me right now...things are too convoluted in my mind...but God knows I wish I could just collect all of these scraps into a pile and let them burn. Let the memories of the past just turn into smoke and ash so I could be free of all of these lingering thoughts and questions.
I hate this place.
There is only shifting shades of twilight offering more questions instead of answers and it will always be this way. The price of knowledge is death by apathy...dispassionate hate for everything I have ever seen or felt. A disgust created by my interaction with everything and everyone. I hold myself with the prideful indulgence that somehow I am different and not as revolting as the vox populi...silly, isn't it?
And a bit sad really. Seeing an adult act like a child in just trying to wish everything away and letting hate and fear smolder and burn a deeper hole into my soul.
I just...I am drained of emotion right now. Of caring, of wanting to care. I do not even want to feel this anger and hate towards God and people. I want to stop hurting but the act of even carrying that out in any regards is impossible because of further moral conflicting and conundrums.
I hate seeing reports, seeing updates, feeling emotion and dejected elation at another missed calling and reminders of how terrible of a friend, family member, general member of society that I am.
I want to tell everyone and everything that the collective is intruding into my personal space and that you can keep your love for someone who isn't too enraged and intoxicated from the pain to give a damn.
I'm trying not to be completely lost in this narcissistic rage...but it is hard. I'm bitter and cynical and want to scream and stuff. I want to push books off the desk and throw a tantrum. I want to randomly light my journals on fire and let them burn like my insides are...I want to grab people by the shoulder and by the head and make them look into my eyes and see just why I am so upset. Why I am in such a rut, why I do not care about the future or what lucky unicorn rainbow laced happiness might hit me in the head.
I don't care.
I don't want any sort of connection right now...it is weakness that is causing me more pain because I feel like I am failing at every possible and conceivable junction of life.
If I ever come across any sort of life plan I wrote I'm going to use it to start the pyre of my collective written work. I don't care...it is all poorly contrived garbage anyway. It is expression of a blind fool who made the mistake of opening his tongue and now would have to have it cut cut off for him to ever shut up with these incessant and poorly written monologues.
You want truth? You speak of it like you have something to say. You open your mouth with a sneer and don't even see the irony of the fact your body is already shutting down, breaking down and you will be dead before you can finish your next word.
The universe is an ever expanding mass of disordered explosions that is winding down and cannot end soon enough before humanity finds even more brilliant ways of delivering death and damning people to more useless and boring pain.
I am even hating music. I can't stand to pick up and try to play anything because a bass guitar is not an efficient solo instrument. And most of the music is full of the cliche and full of meaningless efforts to do equally meaningless things.
Life has purpose, don't get me wrong. The problem is that that purpose revolves around sacrifice, deliberately putting oneself in pain and caring. Bothering to love...things that cause me even more pain.
Talking to people is excruciating sometimes...it is a pain, a deep cut drawing blood and I don't know how to stop the flow. I don't want to remember everything...the good or the bad. Both equally need to be purged so I can learn how to breath again.
I don't want to think of you right now...you need to go back into the past with the other shades that haunt my nightmares. I never knew you...or any of you...everything you speak is about death and blood...reminders of the Hell made out of this world. I never wanted it, couldn't ask for it...I just need to be away from you. Leave me please, leave this mind and maybe time might erase the last traces of your picture and voice from my mind and I'll never hurt from you again.
I don't like carrying about these ghosts of the past...these haunting and half formed memories that I am never sure about the truth or lies of any of them. I just need to find a cave to lay in and rest so maybe I can heal before the next assault on my mind and body begin.
It's like the sky line gets ripped open and rain pours down. Filling in these holes and making the lake grow. Pushing the gaps wider and making it hurt more. I wish it were possible to cut out every sound clip, every visual reminder, every thought and moment of time that was used up and wasted and worth absolutely nothing now...it is just a 'lost treasure' that has become an incredibly bitter reminder.
The taste cuts my tongue and makes me resent being born and even being here.
I cannot limp away from this place quick enough. Even if I have to drag my bleeding and broken self across this wasteland I am going to escape...someday and sometime...you may never know it or care...just wherever you are...you went beyond the sea to a place I couldn't follow if I tried...and here I am...I don't know...I don't know...I just do not know where this all began or where it will all end.
This disconcerting waste of life is just a further irritation...I want to run away from it all because there is nothing for me here...here. Nothing, nothing at all. It's devoid of anything I would consider life, love, meaning, purpose...God I hate all the random moments and images that course through my head...they will not turn off and it just makes me...causes me...drives me to ache for all the lost, all the pain, all the forgotten.
It's all something...something...something.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
