Minus

The deepest part of my psyche, psychosis incarnate, stirs after such a long time. I forgot just how gnarled my perspective was, and when I rush back to the imbalance of stress and apathy, it surprises me. It surprises me how deep it goes.

Two things have largely shaped both my self-image and my emotional development: Constant stress and constant, chronic pains. I don't mean pain in the abstract or emotional sense. Physical pain. Throbbing, unending, infinite cyclic pain.

These things have grated away at me for most of my life. I had forgotten just how big of a role they have had on me, because for the last few months I haven't been in that universe. But, I feel myself being pulled back toward there, now. I can't do anything to halt gravity.

Regardless of anything, it exists, and it is part of me. A facet of my own universe is within this conceptually masochistic framework.

It's a very real part of who I am. The sharp, analytical daggers; my journey within.

"You woke me up. Left me naked in a world I don't recognize anymore. Who is responsible for this? The only thing worse than evil is apathy; a crime we are all guilty of, so we just walk along in silence... But now, I cannot go further."

It's always best when the light is off
It's always better on the outside
Fifteen blows to the back of your head
Fifteen blows to your mind

(dog attack)

I'm afraid of never being able to create the life that I think I can for myself. I want to create, at the very least, the kind of comfort and pleasure that comes in being able to proud of yourself, in a very basic sense.

The reign of ignorance, religiosity and fear completely inundates my life. The delicate interpersonal folds that become frayed with time and so hard to keep steady... completely inundate my life. Everything is flooding me.

Closed-Eye Visuals

Unbound to the pale and lifeless day
by the multicolored, multiform.
A spinning antidream unthought --
Exceeding the obsolete reality.
Overheated inner shape-generator
blowing every cerebral fuse.
Insanity filtered and systematized;
Feeding the tools of mind abuse.

Mind-signal transmission peaked, distorted, bent;
unrestrained.
Neuroreceivers short-circuit.
System parametrs overgained.
Neverthreads decoding the stream
of the reality-inverting revolution
The patterned untruth of non-dream:
The closed-eye visual delusion

A frantic, cellular race
down the switchbacks of mind.
Throttling the existence engine;
a propulsion beyond all limit-lines.
Convulsive thrusts of septic energy,
as infected cells collide.
Unleashing the video-bacterial disease: The sinew-conducted pseudovision.

Self unfolds, like a disintegrating dream:
All revealed but the sinister cause.
My lying eyes come apart at the seams;
still, how could I ever regret the loss?

The self, transformed into wavelengths;
reverberate this unyielding dream.
Lost in this greedy illusion,
I'm forever devoured by
the closed-eye visual delusion.

A twirling visual overload --
Explosions of terror and beauty:
Colors of fear and pain within
clash into unanything

Dead Planet

I haven't slept in forty days
Something here just doesn't feel right
This eerie place keeps me up all night
So tired now, I'm losing my sight

Yellow sky
turning blue
Dead planet

I look around and see no end
Signs of extinction appear everywhere
This place called Earth is just a burning shell
An inner, outer, living Hell

We come so far, just to lose it all
This winding road we call Life
So civilized within our frame of mind,
never having learned to be kind

What is up with this hole I'm in?
No one here can hear me scream
What is up with this place I'm in?
Someone, get me out of this scene

Matter

I am struck by perpetually
moving anguish, stuck in conceptual
mist blown forth from grandeur,
or rather, usurped from the matter.
It is me, all I am and will be;
blown currents
moving in cycles.
And here I am...
pulled like I'm tandem.

Fourth

Independence is a lie,
like 'blank slate' and 'pasteurized'
and 'second chance', the westward push,
the selfish lurch to ignore the truth.

Make believe that nothing's real...

It started with a conversation this morning with my brother. He wants to bang the girl at my work, at least in some fantastical, pseudo-real way. He likes to talk about it, anyway.

And we were talking, and the conversation revolved around until it rested on the point that it's useless to want things like that, because in the end, they aren't worth it. That instantaneous, superfluous feeling of wanting someone based on physical appeal doesn't go as far as people think it does. At least, it doesn't if you actually have a soul.

I've wanted people like that, and it feels more like dread than lust the more it develops. You want to get off, to possess an appearance; to relish a body. It doesn't last that long when you despise the person's soul, and it feels even worse when they are more indifferent than ambivalent or attracted. The strongest want is towards yourself, you want to please yourself by having a tight body to fuck.

All of the attractions in my life like that ended with emptiness. Physicality doesn't get me very far. Far more important is the mind and the thoughts that circulate therein. In a mate, that is what I look for more than anything. So, for me to feel not like I am sated or satisfied, nor content, but related to, connected to... is a whole other thing entirely.

I've never felt that way in a relationship. I've wanted things to work, I've wanted things to end, I've wanted desperately to see someone again. I've never felt calm and secure, and felt as though I could plan a future with another person before. My real, primal animal sense of nesting, of mating and settling down... that has never really activated before. I've played house, but never actually wanted it.

And I feel that, now. Although I am not the greatest breadwinner or the most competent mate, I want it and I may want it forever.