What did the world ever do to me, to deserve all that I do to it?
Why am I so bitter/ insensitive- where is that giant aortic pump in which lies the warmth of a soul… a conscience.
Do I have some mental imbalance, some medical condition that prevents me from feeling as much as a normal human being should?
Then why do material things mean so much to me?
Why do I prioritise sex versus love and all that comes with it?
" its alright to tell me, what you think about me- i won't try to argue, or hold it against you"
the one thing i have learnt about this world this year is that one just has to tell people what they want to hear sometimes
its no use fighting their word...because people tend to rely on their word... their word might be all they have- what right after all have i to strip someone of all that they have?-
I can feel his cynicism bucketing down on me as he preaches, I know he doubts me
I realise the quickest way to acquire interest is to invest in lies.
Conscience vanishes, as devils use dollar signs as the red crime’s disguise.
With the bloody blue ink’s signature scrawled on a cheque they deceived us,
Into believing it was pleasing to Him, yet in truth everyday we murder Jesus…
"I'm not crazy, i'm just a little unwell"
words,- is that all the world has to offer me?...mishapen inscriptions on post-its/ memos/ ingraved on ur lips...
i know you just want to make it okay-
so that the world doesnt sound so bad-
so that you dont come out so bad.
bad is a bad word...in its innocence it implies so much wrong/hatefulness/vulgarity/obscenity...
what is obscenity?... truth?
I don’t know why
but I feel a warm piercing
sadness in my core,
and it throbs.
Perhaps the sort of sadistic pain that emanates
from a profound intrusion of emotions.
Those emotions too intense to gaze upon,
too loud to bear listening to,
too caustic to swallow
and possess pent up passions too powerful to….
It would be wrong for you
To assume that I don’t l love you
Just because I was untrue to you
But If only you knew
All that I go through
To hide the truth
That I know will only hurt you.
Perhaps I should have known you’d find out.
But I can’t allow you to leave me now.
Don’t ask me who she is,
About her name, age or why we kissed.
Can we please not fight about this?
I cannot change what I did.
I went through a phase once, when I was obsessed with profundity and philosophy ( and being original- until I discovered that originality is an illusion)
I took great pride in thinking that I was smarter and more insightful that everyone around me, and placed myself intellectually and spiritually among the great thinkers of today’s world.
It was not as mild as vanity; it was turning into a very dangerous case of harmful narcissistic delusion.
breakthroughs/ revelations are hard to come by.
spent a year and a half waiting for one... for all i know it probably came and went without my even noticing it, god forbid,for all i know it probably didnt happen at all.
was feeling insecure about my significant other going away for a long vacation- feeling paranoid because given the same situation i'd probably have given her reason to be paranoid... but what the heck- i dont care anymore, whatever happens i just dont want to hear it- maybe this is my breakthrough... no this is just pitiful.
Now I’m going to live life in the way that it has never been lived before,
the world is one huge stage and I am the protagonist,
I will give the audience what they want and need, uncensored entertainment-
I will perform and shout out in the grand ostentation that befits such a podium.
a lot of people will criticise me and bicker about trivial mistakes made on stage
when in reality a lot of the same people only wish they could be me, have my role…
… The minute he caught sight of me, walking leisurely, obliviously, across the room- his only instinct was to look around and make sure nobody else was present. Sure enough, the room was empty, dark, and the only light that shone was from the intense craving in his eyes.
He marched towards me like a man possessed. He grabbed my left arm and then my right, and pulled my towards him- arresting my motion and pretentiously flaunting his physical vigour. His breath was heavy, slow and shallow, his nostrils flared up at me, and sweat trickled from his temples. In his eyes I saw a familiar yearning. A hunger so profound and mysterious, a secret voracity set loose…
You can say what you will about me, there is no way I can change your mind, or alter the words that emerge from your mouth and make you understand my situation-
You can go ahead and judge me but that doesn’t mean I like it, this is just me willing to accept you not accepting me…
After all what is tolerance? It is not only tolerating homosexuals and people of a different ethnicity or creed etc, but it is also the ‘homosexuals/ people of different backgrounds/ color/ beliefs’ tolerating your ignorance, your injustice, your sanctimonious spitefulness.
Loving you is a like a song I replay
Every three minutes and thirty seconds of every day
And every chorus was written for us to recite
Every beautiful melody of devotion every night
It's potion like this ocean that might carry me
In a wave of emotion to ask you to marry me
And every word, every second, and every third
Expresses the happiness more clearly than ever heard
And when I play ‘em, every chord is a poem
there was a point when my life was all about sex, maryjane, alcohol, and music.
it was an extremely potent combination but it gave me the fix i needed- that blurry, hazy, i-can-barely-stand feeling really gave me what i thought i wanted.
i always figured i needed a break from reality and these 4 elements took me 'there' to that special place-
the land of hakuna matata ( no worries)
i was trippin on orgasm after orgasm, pleasure after pleasure- killing myself slowly...softly ( of course)
ah this is madness
i'm going crazy-
fuc it there's just so much going on
i need to press pause.... for a second.
thre's so much pressure coming in from all corners, shit.
pressure to perform- presssure to conform.
i cant get a moment to myself.
my phone keeps ringing.
my cousin keeps calling me up and complaining about a girl who doesnt love him - beggin me to make it work, to make her love him- but fuck it i cant- i love my cousin soo much- but i cant move mountains- and i sure as hell cant change a girl's heart for him. if i could i would but he keeps stressing me... whining.
They all look at me
Smile at me
Talk to me
Laugh with me
And when I leave
Laugh at me.
In my absence the whispers
Start slithering their ways
Into gullible ears
Of people I used to call
Friend, some still so incognito
That I still do wave and think
They are my friends.
No point in being paranoid now though,
Because what I thought to be my biggest fear-
That they would judge me