I Like To Play Deeply

I fall asleep to voiceless thoughts

And wake up to morbid day-dreams.

Out drips excretions from serrated prose,

The monologs of lifeless playthings.

Like playing dress up in foggy streets

Where every few feet has potential to be anything

And I can be whatever I believe

Until the sun erases my possabilities.

It eats me away with every dull moment,

Goading me back into my imagination.

Creative spirals of disparate mumblings,

The umbilical straps of my safe haven.

Eventually I’ll wake up to freer days

And slumber securely in a psychic Hell

When all my debts have been repaid

And I don’t slip away so well.

Happy New Year, Everyone.

There’s no denying it’s been hard. There are many faces I’ve missed and harsh realities to swallow. Still, it means a lot to share these scraps of prose with everyone who comes along. I hope you’re comfortable and secure tonight, and that we’ll have even more to share in 2021!

Places Where Nothing Matters

The desire to escape drives me towards the places where people do not gather.

In the remote and desolate deserts where the sun is still a master,

To the damp and foggy forests where the soil traps in moisture.

My sub-conscious needs pulling towards where people do not matter.

 

Every place with roads and rules implies a tacit social consent.

Mobility, morality, and my mask are part of that.

Society is life always in a partial state of restraint.

That’s why they taught the meek that they should be content.

 

For those who do not thrive, they say adaptation is the key.

Learn to see yourself as something you should be.

Intelligence and deviations combine into misery,

But you can’t escape yourself, so you’ll end up in therapy.

 

Or, you might escape somewhere in so far as you can imagine.

If remote and desolate landscapes please your palette,

Making you wish there were more spaces like it,

Even if objective reality will never make it happen.

 

Day dream illusions, substitutions, the unfulfilled hollow.

Placate and sedate if you need the escape.

The best places are where nothing even matters.

Swallow the pills and forget about your fate.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Give Up Or Go On

The drive of life wants to kill me.

Regrets, desires, and most profound depression,

Tormenting every idle second of the day,

Strangling emotion and distorting my perceptions.

All these lovesick and battered human-beings,

These patient sufferers and aggravated beasts,

Painfully clinging to their needs and desires,

Everyday pushing their will until it breaks.

These heart-broken, lonely, and distressed human-creatures,

Desperately striving for some comfort and love,

Vulnerable and exposed for those who would use them,

Forced to be strong, to be brave, to be thought of.

Why don’t they collapse and refuse to get up?

Why don’t they stop and just scream “That’s enough!?”

Why, when they do, do they still cling to life?

Why are we defined by the things that we fight?!

It feels like the drive of life wants to kill me.

My sicknesses and struggles still pound in my head.

Disappointments, failures, and bloodletting traumas,

Unceasingly torture me. I’m alone in my bed.

 

Alone… Frightened… Starving and weak.

 

Then I remember how much we’re the same.

I realize what little self-worth we live in.

I realize how pained I’d be if you ever gave up.

I’ll go on for you, because I want love to win.