Wednesday, June 20

darkness creeps over, as the sun sets and in the east rises a full moon. with her mind reeling and the wheels spinning all she can hope is that she'll be home soon. the wind whistling through a crack in the window, and the pointer racing up the speedo, she is impartial to her own velocity, with her mind searching for serenity. what she needs, she cannot see, and what she wants, is to be cold upfront, so she can be numb, and fade with the setting sun...

seems my head is still cramped up... maybe i need to hire a cleaning lady...

Wednesday, June 13


444th post
pull your arms up around your knees, and hide out inside your room, pretend you can't feel at all. just realize that i know how, you feel now...


i'm not progressing, i'm just going round and around in circles. like when you draw them free hand and then trace the line again and again until there is this thick walled circular shape or a hole in the paper. if life is the circle, which side do we fall on? where do we start? where do we end? i read somewhere that compared it more accurately to a spring, a 3D spiral where the same x and y values are revisited, but the z value changes. i have to stop now because i can't clear my head. people know what that is like, i would like to thank them for their understanding nature. they know what it's like to have something crammed so tightly inside their head that they can't get out anything without the fear of dislodging it and the whole closet-full of junk pouring out and drowning them.


crap, i love you.


i guess this means i'm at the drowning stage, not the conclusion i want, but might as well get it over and down with.

...can you think back to when things worked? when dreams were the days your lived? when you never cried alone? (being your walls - Armor For Sleep)

Monday, June 4

paranoia, is hunting you and all these dirty looks, well, they are right on cue. you're full up to the brim, with that "he said, she said" trash, you exist behind your keyboard and then you're gone in a flash...

after years of fighting and screaming, she gave-up. her voice hung limp over the back of the chair where she left it. she sat up in bed removing thoughts from her head and throwing them at the waste paper bin, only every third or fourth actually going in. the rest laid cold on the carpet, trembling a little, whimpering slightly in their new surroundings. once she was done she snuggled in between the covers and slept a dreamless sleep. she awoke in the morning without any memories, of who or what or where she was. so she stayed there for a couple of days in the darkness, until the thoughts on the floor grew restless and started their migration back to their owner.
she felt something on her arm and sat up, flinging it away towards the back wall. fear swept across her body and left a vile taste at the back of her mouth, she tried to yell, but her voice was not where she left it. suddenly depression sunk into her stomach, a cold, firm hand clenching her gut. pain spread through her as loneliness entered her bloodstream and tormented her tissues. but it subsided to a greater thought, parading around her head was hope, warming her body and soul, showing her the way back to her voice. the thoughts fought with each other once again, but something had changed and it was not as violent as before. they were tired and so was she, so she snuggled in between the covers of her nice, warm bed and dreamed of who she wanted to be...

(i wish i had detailed it more, feels like it moves too fast)

ten bucks says you don't have it in you, to conquer fear and quit believing what they tell you to. you are careening shamelessly into oblivion, where you will live alone with your chemicals and gin (Dutch Courage - The Spill Canvas)