I have.

Ever have those times where you have a book trapped in your brain that's chewing on your insides but your body is too numb to notice?
"Everything that's to be written, already has been" I remind myself, thus encouraging the lethargy that got me so far.
Sinking further and further into the weight of my own inaction, a vicious cycle that.
My lips mouth the words "times will change", not even half convincing myself that they will.

I'm susceptible to too many things and every dock I anchor myself to blows away with the first storm that shows up, even me.

Have you looked around then? wondering if this was meant to be?
if this was who you were intended to become? if this was the life that did justice to the journey that you were on all this while?

I have.

I gotta stay High all the time..

How can someone be nostalgic for something they’ve never had
What is this incredible weight with no real substance?
Phantoms weren’t ever meant to be this heavy

I’ll soon realize this was the nightmare I’ve been waiting to have
Maybe I’ve been confusing my demons for angels,
Maybe I’ve been embracing darkness out of this yearning to feel

Feel something, feel anything, feel everything,
When mentally cutting myself wasn’t going deep enough,
Handing over the knife to someone else always seemed to do the trick

People cut, people suck form your wound but oh they also care
Everyone is a saint, a broach of a heart of gold pinned on their lapel
Is what you can see, is what is tangible, is what holds up in court

Soon those wings will come, sprout of my back in a burst of blood and flesh
Metamorphosis is supposed to be painful, evolution is supposed to hurt
And I’ll fly away from this old shell, leaving behind everything tangible

Soaring through the sky in a burst of brilliance and light
Flying higher and higher, closer to the sun, never stopping
Burning up on approach, never to be, never to feel, ceasing to exist.

Alternate realities

Life is so fickle, characterized by constant change and yet here we are, building huge castles on a changing landscape.
Personally I like little wooden cabins. Warm, cozy, compact and non intimidating.
When one gets destroyed, you just move on and build another.

Having said that, I could very well live in a mansion. White picket fence and two and a half kids? I can do that, is there a point though?


I was recently made to read a supposed quote that correlated intelligence to antisocial tendencies. I don't think so.
Being antisocial usually is only indicative of some inherent mental disconnect with the rest of society.
We've not evolved to be antisocial, it isn't in our DNA I'm afraid.
Wanting to be alone just says that you havent found company that you feel completely at home with.

Remember home? That place where you can be you? The place where all masks can be hung at the door and your inner self becomes the outer one? The place where your filters that usually keep your psychopathic ramblings at bay at turned off?
Yea, me neither.

Who are you completely yourself with?
Does such a person even exist for you?

Why can't we be this person then? Is it that such people who will completely accept who you are don't exist or do we really believe that we've evolved to such levels of monstrosity that 'normal' folk shouldn't have to deal with the absolute horror of the people we've become?
Therein lies the weight.

In an alternate reality i'd bet there's a white cowboy version of me who's extremely sociable and outgoing.
Who lives to party and looks forward to meeting others. Maybe this version of me has a completely clean heart too.

I actually am the perfect candidate to believe in afterlife and rebirth. I should right?
That ideally is the only hope i'd have to be the white hatted cowboy.


The only question then being, do I want to be that person.

New Year Resolutions

Giving up people.
Each year only adds more fuel to the fire of my cynicism.


Be more materialistic.
Because that's what the world is. People that tell you it isn't are often deluded and live like I used to, wearing rose colored glasses.


Be a musician.
Because I once was, am not anymore.


Continue the fight to end drama.
I now know with greater clarity what must be done.


Solo trips only, where ever possible
Because I've made my decision that I'm better off dying alone anyway, no need to be nice about it.


Game.
Because in a virtual world, things are in control and if they're not, I can rage quit and burn the console.


Fight Desire.
Desire nothing. Wanting anything is bad.


Healthier
I definitely need to not die climbing a flight of stairs.


Drink.
Yes. Just that. Drink more. Socially, Alone, whatever.


Live Alone
because most of these things are only possible when that happens. Make a rule to never invite anyone over.

So much to say, so much to say

Pent up thoughts that are almost on the verge of breaking the mental dam that keeps them from gushing out unfiltered in the world made me realize that this place used to be a safe haven where i could safely and in a controlled manner offload certain parts of the madness.
Why this ceased is a question that I'm not sure i have the answer to at the moment, but I'm sure my brain will retrospectively make one up so as to bring reason into the seemingly random act.

Having said that, I now need to align my thoughts and then be back, with hopefully newer things to make you think about.
Until then, adieu.

The All Consuming Fog Of Occupation

My time, my mind, almost my entire life, every waking moment has now been consumed as i merged with this larger entity that seeks to completely possess every fiber of my being. Every heartbeat, every blink of my eye, every thought in my brain, all is now sought to be harvested for the greater good of the whole.

Funny thing about that, I don't mind.

Sacrifices don't normally come easy, but "trade-offs" come naturally.
Tit for Tat they say, some say im not the tat in the story for sure for having "thrown away the pleasure of social engagements"

It'll all pay off i sub-conciously convince myself.
You be patient inner child, your time will come. Albeit when it does, you'll be wearing dentures, old, bald and resigned to a chair, because such is life.
Right?
right?

Can we move on from rhetorical questions now?

The irony of my situation is probably amplified to anyone who has read anything i've written in the last year. A person's philosophy i've believed is almost solely a product of his current mental being, this isnt better exemplified than my trend of pseudo philosophical ramblings.
Being that very robot which I once despised is fun, or is it?
isn't it? It is, i convince myself. It'll pay off, it has to.

Remember that old phrase? Kansas or bust? I don't have a Kansas.
Floating towards nothing, accelerating all the way.

I already know the end result involves a wall and me colliding at warp speed against it.
I guess the only thing left now, is to decide whether before i hit the wall, to turn right cheek or left or hit it face first.

A finger out of the grave

A finger reaching out of the grave,
for sometimes, i must act brave
"reach for the stars, shoot for the sky"
don't give up yet desmond, try try try

There's lands to discover!
there's secrets to uncover!
There are so many things to know,
there's so much more to grow!

Cleaning up cobwebs, grime and dust,
Ridding my heart and brain of rust
sitting and watching day turn to night
and the demons of dark, flee from light

Blah blah blah blah
blah blah blah blah.

The End.