Wednesday, January 26, 2011

repress, suppress, digress, undo success.

where do i go from here?

my blogs are apparently too dark...
my innermost thoughts are so tainted and dark that they're hard to take.

want some truth?

i'm drunk as fuck and want y'all to leave.

good night.

Sunday, January 23, 2011


There's a steady low hum that's barely audible while I go about my day to day life. When my day is uneventful, I can barely hear it. Sitting at a table with a cup of coffee and the newspaper, my head is almost silent. It's when I enter the outside world that the hum increases to a dull steady bassline, walking down the darkened snowy streets, the low frequency starts to mimic the beat of my heart. A pulsing, throbbing note so low it almost blends in with the sounds of traffic. Orange streetlamps reflect the snow back up to my eyes. My shadow retaliates by eating up every sparkle in my path with each step. Head down, hands in pocket. The beat starts pulsing in my diaphragm just below my lungs, in between my last rib and moves further up. I try to swallow it, it doesn't like that. It wants to take over. My heart starts beating in 6/8, I steady my pace and steady myself against the rush that is threatening to melt my spine. I feel the uncontrollable urge to sing at the top of my lungs, throaty and low. I can't help but walk faster as I start seeing floating gray circles in my peripheral vision, they're fighting for a place in the darkness that's closing in. Head still down I look up as a bus roars by, inches from my face; illuminated from within by fluorescent tubes and passengers aghast. The bassline creeps into the back of my throat and almost chokes me. It drowned out every outside noise. It almost drowned me.

Monday, January 3, 2011

I hate death.

i hate the repurcussions and the ramifications it carries for those on the outer circle.
I hate the fact that it makes others reflect upon their own shortcomings and in turn makes them place the blame on another's demise inwardly.
but why?
sometimes it's necessary.
sometimes it's not a question of what's right or wrong for the world, it's a question of what's right or wrong for the person making the decision regarding their action to take life into their own hands.

i have no control.
i have no self control.
i have no control over the worlds' state of affairs.
i have no control over those who tried to control me.

Am i desperate?
why do i always come back to you?

i can't breathe.

that sounds so clutchy and myspace-y and like a total overreaction to life.
but here i am...

choking on tears and pent-up resent regret hatred
why the fuck is this on blogger?
why do i post this shit on the internet?
no one cares.
no one wants to save someone else when they can barely sustain themselves...
that is
except for me

am i an anomaly?

do i hold myself in any higher regard because i'd rather put my friends first?

i don't.

i can't do this anymore. this is not a suicide note. this is not a death wish.
just please, don't ask me to stick around because my absence to you would be unbearable.

if you loved me at all, just let me go. let your selfishness go.

this is what's best for me.

i need to go.


in the beginning.

There was a girl.

She loved food. but it made her sad when it made her bigger.

She lost lots of weight and all the people in the land cheered for her.

She never told anyone how much she hated it when people only cared about what was on the outside.

She tried on many masks in an attempt to find one that fit.

None of them ever did.

She never wanted pity or sympathy or help. She stopped caring about anything beyond the next day of consciousness.
The trapper of souls became the trapped.
Life got tiring. Boring. Repetitivemonotonousdeaddeaddead.
What's the point anymore?

I'm fucking sick and tired of being sick and tired.
I'm sick of lying. I'm sick of crying. The only time i ever feel happy and whole anymore is when i'm saving someone else's soul. Whenever the favor is being returned, i recoil and run away...
and i certainly don't need to be found.
i feel like the end of days is closer than i think and it's not self induced.
I've just reached a point where the desire to repair the damage is so far removed from my list of priorities it seems that i've resigned myself to reaching the end of the road once i've hit this metaphorical brick wall.
I don't want help.
i don't want to cause grief or worry.
i don't want anyone whom i love dearly to read this and think that it's a poorly veiled attempt at a cry for help.
I'm merely voicing the truth;






i wanna save the world. i wanna help my friends find their self-fulfillment.
i wanna eat a bowl of wasabi mashed potatoes and not hate myself for it, but if that's not possible, then i'd like to at least know that i saved someone else.

who reads this shit anyway?

i'm out.