Cold Searing Reality

He dreams of blood and knives all the time
In waking moments the copper and iron mix to taint his fingertips
At night, he’s surrounded by strangers; he is a stranger to himself
The mirror is a fog of gray and blur-
There is nothing to see that he wants to see
There is nothing he can say to make himself real.

Less of a who and more of a what
Busy shuffling life and drama to the front
Once more drowning himself till the end
Until he, again, doesn’t know who he is
But part of him wants it that way
It’s just too complicated, there are no answers
And no one to put his questions

He’s tired of being just another brittle cup
To eek out another drop of water for the starving souls around
How long until the sun cracks these fragile edges?
How long until they realize he’s not just a tool for others?
They slice him up and divvy the spoils, everyone gets a piece
All that’s left are the bones of anguish, no silence or peace.

He is alone.
That is the worst part of it all.
Everyone has someone and he is just one.
Still.
Again.
And he doesn’t want to wallow in self-pity
But, he can’t help how he feels and he’s tired of being silent.

He dreams of darkness and red
A violent demise to this fear and dread
A soft and muted gray nestled on the sunrise of
Each and every day.
He doesn’t enjoy being despised, he just wants to be
Himself without being penalized.

Why do hurtful people always have power?
Why do they always need a victim?
Don’t they know he has more important things on his mind?
Than wasting energy just trying to survive them, and himself,
And this godforsaken world?
Busy delaying him with petty battles when he’s trying to win
The bigger war.

What is he becoming?
What is he supposed to be
Where is he going?
Is this ever going to end?
How can he make a new beginning
When he doesn’t know where or who or what he is?

For someone supposedly smart
He never has the answers to the questions that plague him
He leaves the room for a cage, the cage for a glass box
The glass box for a room with walls
No windows, no switches to unlock
Nothing but a series of boxes
An echo of chains.

And he must put this away now
He must fold all this away into yet another safe
Housed in the closet
At the end of the hall
Behind the barricaded door
In the abandoned mansion encompassed by the impenetrable forest.

He has failed again.
Containment has been breached, and the agony pours out
In waves of fury, in ice trailing through his veins
In the kiss of Judas stealing the breath from his soul
In the hands of betrayal wrapped around his neck
Grin and whisper that they want him to stay
Then wake him up to kill him again.

Sometimes it’s like he’s not even there
Unless they want someone to blame
He’s not even there
Unless there is someone at fault
He’s not even there
Unless someone needs to be punished.

He isn’t even there.
You have to be a person to be real.
But what does it even matter?
People have no rights at all.
He’s just a leftover script
Of their desire
Just a robot’s soul that they killed.

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“This Folder is Empty”

“Empty spaces fill me up with holes”
~Incomplete by Backstreet Boys

I clicked on “My Pictures”. This folder is empty.

I clicked on “My Music”. This folder is empty.

I clicked on “My Documents”. This folder is empty.

I clicked on “My Downloads”. This folder is empty.

I clicked on “My Desktop”. This folder is empty.

Suddenly, I felt like crying. I don’t want my folders to be empty! Why are they empty?!

Continue reading “This Folder is Empty”

Coffee #17: Dreams and Crushes

“I’m infected with you. Pull the plug already. Tell me before I go, That you’re infected with me.”  ~Infected by Demon Hunter

No coffee in ages. No rest for the weary. I’m exhausted in mind, body, soul, heart, and spirit.

But triumphant. -Ish.

Pull up a chair, let’s talk about life. I can’t wait to share, so tell that barista to shake a tail feather!

Damn it, who put vodka in my hot chocolate? Barkeep-erista!!!

Continue reading Coffee #17: Dreams and Crushes

Pale White beaches

loneliness-298998_640.jpg

The sift of albino sand beneath his feet,
Chills toes in shoes and force sandals to haste retreat.
Insidious, they stuff themselves into every crevice.

He stares at the ocean and wonders
If his arms will ever hold more than silence,
If he will hear -something- aside from emptiness. Continue reading Pale White beaches

Friendships ~allegory for Relationship

Requested by teiyaoloilolesoipei who asked about my philosophy on friendship.

Wanna have a more interesting read? Replace “friendship” with “relationship”. It still applies.

I follow 3 main guidelines, before seeking/finding a good friend.

  • First: Alone is okay. I am okay with being alone, and this allows me to gain a measure of independence both in identity and in mentality. It sounds backwards, but it is necessary because finding a good friend takes patience, and then building that relationship takes time.
  • Second: trust your instincts/gut/whatever you call it. It doesn’t steer me wrong, and it’s saved me more times than not from people and situations that would have been really bad.
  • Third, when in doubt, run some tests. I wrote about an example here.

Capitalistic approach?

Continue reading Friendships ~allegory for Relationship

The Well of Isolation

Alone… is a word containing words inside of itself, like Russian nesting dolls.

~Alone, Lone. One. Ne. E.~

Interesting how even when letters are removed, the remainder only emphasizes the solitude.

Alone.

Alone is a tricky emotion. It is interesting, because the fact is, you could be in the most crowded of rooms and still feel alone. You could be… in the middle of a crowd, and still feel…empty. You could be at the side of a loved one, holding their hand, leaning on their shoulder, closing your eyes, sleepy, dreamy.

Still, I see you encased in icy shell.

Alone.

You might tell yourself that this time, it will be different. This time you will open up and be that person who connects, who makes the connection meaningful. This time, you will make a friend. This time you will have your significant other and you will tell them everything.

Except…

Telling them everything means you have nothing.

And then they leave.

And you are still alone.

Alone. Lone.

You are a lone wolf. You think you don’t need anyone anymore. You’re just fine, being all by yourself. In fact, who needs people, who needs friends? Who needs others? The only person you can rely on is yourself. Everyone else will betray you, disappoint you, stab you in the back, and kill you.

Alone is better, alone is survival.

Alone. Lone.

Being lone, means watch your own back. And know that, you will not sabotage yourself.

Alone, Lone. One.

You are one. Two splits down to one. And finally you realize that one is the strongest part of the bond. Because when other leaves, there is only one.

You.

You have to build yourself back up from the ruin and start all over. Again, and again and again, because one is all you are when everyone leaves.

One.

Alone. Lone. One. Ne.

Ne, who gives a crap? You don’t care anymore. In fact, you’ve been rocking it so long –all by yourself– you just feel nothing.

Ne. Meh, Korede [here].

Then, you drift. and everything is the same. Everything is consistently the same.

Ne. Outstretched hands, sliced away each and every time. What’s the point? Why even bother try? Hands implying control, implying some sort of meaning.

You cannot draw hands, nothing to hold when you have no control.

Ne. Relinquish it all.

Alone. Lone. One. Ne. E.

E.

The effort to form phrases is just too much. In fact, being the fifth letter of the alphabet means you don’t need the rest of the alphabet. You’re just fine right where you’re at. And you’ve convinced yourself, in some abstract corner of your mind, that this is what it’s all about. This is what happiness is. This is what life is meant to be.

E: A grunt. a formulation, a syllable. An afterthought. an end to the world tagged on at the very last moment, when you realize that you have nothing. Just you, your empty hands, in an empty room, on an empty block of an empty town nested within an empty city. And then an empty state, part of an empty country.

Lost in an empty world.

E. Ne. One. Lone. Alone.

It’s a fanciful regression. And the process ends.

In silence.

Feelings of: Betrayal –> Rage –> Acceptance –> Indifference –> Desensitization