so, i am unable to sleep, for the past few hours i have been traveling through my subtle confusion, perpetrating my days and prodding at my nights. now i know some of this may read as trite, but i wrote a few things and wanted to jot them down here.
dedicated: further & simplicity & doug, my english professor
This feeling.
The contradictory mindfucks of abstractions and actualities.
The torn sinews of my overflowing heart,
the ideals of things and people not my own.
The nostalgia in red wine,
the porchlight dangling by the wayside.
Add me and subtract me, manipulate me until I am whole.
I charter the oceans of magnificent lovers and worrisome indolence,
dance in the torrents of affairs and electricity.
I burn to a crisp,
choke in my ashes,
and dissipate into the atmosphere.
I am a renegade, a lover, a leader, a faithless mercenary, a hopeless cadaver, an undisputed mecca, a lonely human being.
I am all and I am nothing,
waiting in constant movement for the belief that I will one day be something more,
in the truth that one day I will reach absolute zero.
-
There are some moments I can't bear the loneliness of honest love.
Some days when i can't bear to hear that word, and all the convoluted meanings it procures.
We are fated to submit, I know.
I just can't accept the process.
The ones we love so blindly,
the ones who wear our weary hearts.
The striking sunrise,
the stunning repose of nature.
The seconds of worship,
minutes of doubt,
hours of perforating inability.
Inability to be any more than we are.
We will never be a fading star,
a cup of green tea,
a traipsing ambiance,
an orb of light,
a fantastic read,
a breathtaking song,
a water lily,
another human being.
Our imaginations can only wander so far,
for we are merely another scientific fact, another organism on this earth, a minute millisecond in the historical evolution.
We can only travel so far into the future before we fall apart.
There are some moments I can't bear the loneliness of honest love,
for those moments are running an infinite loop in the baseline of my existence.
But despite the reckless emptiness,
amidst the human turmoil,
above the screeching injustices,
I forgive the foreboding song,
and I surface in a beautiful dream.
We can only be true to the love we feel and see.
We can only forge a merciless thought, beyond the dual vision, beyond religiousities, beyond ignorance and chaos, that there is nothing greater than a magnificent unknown encapsulating a perpetual belief. For, that is all 'love' means.
-
I feel this overwhelming wave, a gargantuan storm, a deity-stricken force coming over me.
An emptiness that fills me whole, for there is no internal peace known to man. There is no finality, excluding death.
I stumble in a world of objects and creatures,
I stutter among the incoherent and sing among the intellects.
But I am nobody's savior, and they are not mine.
I want to express these wormhole thoughts, these jumbling paradoxes, these quirky idiosyncrasies, this hated love.
In the eyes of another, I wish to be whole.
I wish to be whole in my sore wordplay, my somber revelations, my human condition.
It is said, man's greatest fear is alienation.
I am suffocated by empty beings, cold atoms, clever robots.
They run the world now,
they amass the public
and swarm through every corner of our memories and moments and futurescapes.
Pity is not my mistress,
and I shall know no equal.
Mere expressions abstract our true meanings, and we are left with not a soul in this world to hold on to.
-
A fraction of a second. A percentage of that fraction. A statistical probability of that percentage. An abstraction of that probability. An expression of that abstraction. A translation of that expression. A painting of that translation. A photo of that painting. A PORTRAIT OF COMMUNICATIVE DISTORTION.
..i suppose we shall 'make the best' of whatever it is we cannot fully comprehend.
-
Time.
Rules the living.
This is why
sometimes,
I feel like I'm dying.
I'm dying to reinvent time,
and reinvent living.
THE WAYS IN WHICH WE CEASE TO LIVE ARE VASTLY OUTNUMBERING THE WAYS IN WHICH WE DO.
-
...And, back to square one.
An inexplicable confusion.
An overwhelming sense of loss - of what, I'm not sure.
A searing sense of nostalgia.
A burning remnant of love.
How will we ever survive the indifference?
I don't want to suppress this inner rage, a sense of vengeful truth.
I want to feel the weight of my stubborn passion,
but above all, I want you to look inside yourself
and rise above too.
Together. That is how we should thrive.
That is how we will survive.
Sooo.. these are my last two hours of thoughts, smoking cigarettes and drinking wine. I came full circle, but what else is new.
- Mood:
Nervous - Listening to: crickets amidst my restless thoughts
time itself has me displaced
Tense
Joy
