America dreamin…

There is a part of me that doesn’t desire anything outside of death..

But then there is the other side of me.. That normal part that my mother created.. You know.. That wants a family.. Prestige.. And love..
That part of me stands over the real me with a whip…

It won’t let me live… Because if I lived– of course it would die…

Which is the real me? I think we both know the answer to that.. If you have to force your will well then you have no true power..

Because I’m in love with death doesn’t mean I desire life any less than the next man… Life is bountiful… But death is so much more.. Life is constant chaos.. Death is momentary chaos followed by peace followed by the choice of the two.. But at least there’s a choice…
Death is freedom… Freedom is truth.. No more lies and non sense.. Just truth…

Why dream when you can simply be….
Why be of an illusion when you can simply be… No thought because you are regardless…

I think therefore you are…

Life forces you to think… Thoughts control constructs… Can’t I be without the repression of thoughts… Or am I here to justify my means.. Here to question simply for the sake of questioning..

For a finite point to evoke an infinite expression.. Provoke endless possibilities with a finite set of boundaries… And all for what?

And who’s dream has this reality become… From where do these thoughts that dominate originate… Must I remain slumbered to dream… American dreamin… Or can I awaken.. Honesty through death…

The death of a dream…

She utters curses and vitriol…
An avalanche of vile all aimed at me..

Funny thing is… She may be right..
Fate has a cruel way of depicting truth..

Chakras… The path of energy.. Expansion and motion… Sublime feeling…. As on a cloud… Stars bursting and no question is asked..

It’s me versus perception at this point… My body thinks it’s real but all an illusion of the mind…

Say you’ll hate me like no other… I just want something unique: to call my own..

Let my heart pound with the intensity of emanate fear when in your presence… I just wanna be all the way alive…

Curses from all direction… Who but I am chosen to withstand it all… Completely sober… Absorbing… Ingesting the disgust… The animosity is at a pinnacle…Puts me on edge but the come down is so relaxing…

If he knew better he’d do better… That’s the only calming words they can utter…

They shit exactly what you feed em.. A mantra that keeps me sane.. If you don’t feed em they can no longer shove their shit in your face..

It’s all a joke…

They’ll always find a way to shove their shit on you… You just have to be at a far enough distance so that it doesn’t stick..

Let them drown in their own shit.. But for now the filth is all I have to hold on to… All I have keeping alive..

So resume your verbal assault.. You.. You… You… And her…

Eye understand…

And I see…

The 100th monkey effect..

Not ready to give something up..

Surrender…

If the host evolves the parasite dies…

I don’t need to live… Just die every day so I can come back and die again!

It’s not order… But it’s harmony.. Like riding on a freeway..

Yet we’re dealing with dualities and opposites..

Misinformed and pleasantries that allow fallacy to go unchecked.. Wrath is in order.. In fact it is the only order.. The purpose that chaos knows best..

In fact let us burn it all… Allow the volcano to erupt.. Allow the magma to destroy everything.. So that we can begin anew.. Start fresh as nutrients risen from the ashes..

Dualities and opposites..

Kill it’s opposite and watch as its lover elevates… Illuminates.. And reinvigorates the truth within us all…

God save the Queen…

Not her at all…

Let us save Our Queen… Let’s resurrect this dead spirit so that we too may be redeemed by her grace..

Quid Pro Quo..

All it takes is for one to change.. The others will fall in line..

Monkey need not see… Need not hear.. Need not say…

Inevitable monkey will do.. The gravitational reality of truth will innately provoke each monkey to do…

Be a good lil monkey….

Give up who you are… And be what you were meant to be forever…

I wouldn’t expect you to understand

Beautiful people always come… But they never stay…

Taken from me… Either through asylum.. Death… Or just the vicissitudes of fate.. Perhaps it’s all in the timing of it all…

It’s something I’ve gotten used to… But am I supposed to?

As though a glimpse of beauty is all I’m deserving of… A slice of heaven is enough to sustain my essence… Momentarily… Until a vacuum is created…

I’m frail.. Can’t you see?

I need that beauty… Without it.. Well the void fills itself with whatever is accessible..

Memories just happen when you’re alone you know… Sometimes it’s why I run from the solitude.. Can never let the silence catch up to me..

Constantly ducking and dodging the sunset… Drowning out the midnight truths… The quiet echoes just as the revenge reverberates until the whispers amplify into screams…

Neglectful screams…

But I wouldn’t expect you to understand…

I just look up at the stars and some of it begins to make sense… But then I look all around me… And I’m just as bemused as ever…

I don’t even understand it.. So how can I expect you to?

She means the world to me…

But the monster in her eye just wants to feed on me..no matter how much she hides it.. Disguises it..

It’s always there.. Lurking.. Waiting…

The monster won’t let me love.. It doesn’t even want her to live…

She claimed she slayed the beast.. But I still see it.. Playing coy.. Fragmented in her emotions…

But love has little to do with this…
It to shall pass..

She will find another.. One willing to sacrifice himself to the beast..

I too shall elope… But with destiny and all she has to offer.. Such so that I can spend each lifetime with her… Comforted by the foreverness of it all…

In this land of the somewhat free and home of the docile… Feed me more is the only anthem…

Chant it with me!

Safeguarding yourself while feeding these monsters is the struggle… All the signs warn us: Don’t feed the monsters!

But how else can I eat… If that’s all I can be…

A hypocrite.. For truth is I can’t feed two monsters…

How can I ever be fit for another… When my own monster is malnutritioned…gaunt because I refused it…

Denied it my love.. But it just refuses to leave…

Can I transfigure who I am?

Become something the parasite can no longer survive on…

Well maybe then… I can honestly show her… That she means the world to me…

Like the time before we bathed in the Red… Basked in the White.. And swam amongst the Blue… And the stars revealed truth instead of enforcing a manifest Destiny…

The stars showed us who we are… Now they just twinkle unnoticed… Refracting the light of the many…representing the hubris of innocence lost…

Maybe she’s here to gather a soul on the edge… Why let it go to waste when you can gather it’s remnants as your own…

Death isn’t what they suppose it to be.. They say I’m selfish… The nerve of them to even claim rights to my existence in my inexistence…

Oh… It’s the repercussions I must fear?

From who? Lol….

Well if she feeds off misery, she will have none here… If she feeds off self-loathing, she will have none here.. If she feeds off the aftermath of wasted potential, well she may get more than she can handle..

But what’s mine is mine, and no one else’s. If I no longer want it, then I can destroy it with no guilt…

And that alone provides a source of satisfaction… An inspiration in a sense…

Ironic..

The idea of some type of morbid attainment…the only attainment is freedom from myself… And the prison I so conveniently created for myself… A self-referential pattern of thoughts and beliefs that keep me confined.. Constricted…

And reduced to a blob of me…

So she may be here to gather a soul on the Edge…But does she want the responsibility that comes along with it…

Perhaps she may see me for me… Shed the filth and simply repackage my core.. Bundle me with another and sale us as a bargain bundle pack…

Two souls… For the price of one…

Twice the despair and half the hope….