We are not what others label us
If you want to feel well, you must live well.
You need not listen to an institution that tells you you’re born with a hole that needs filling.
If you want to feel good, you must do good.
Worshiping another will not set you free.
If you want to be in love, you must love.
You must love yourself first of all.
You were born perfect and innocent and full of potential
You are not a sinner.
No one can tell you what you can or can not be
The only restraint on what you can do is yourself
Live your life the way you want to live it
and be everything you ever wanted to be.
The art of the struggle
Drowning
Struggling
Gasping
A man with no country
I am so far from home
Longing
Hoping
Holding
A dark doorway
Opens to nowhere
Suffering
Fighting
Insisting
An empty path
I walk alone
Dreaming
Breathing
Believing
I’ve come so far
Yet still I roam
Dying
Dying
Dying
No future
No future
Dying
Dying
Dying
No future.
Where do I go?
And alone I shall remain
It is of my own doing that I find myself locked away here
somewhere beneath the mountain at the western edge of the kingdoms bordering sea.
So very far away from everyone and everything they have sent me.
Knowing not what powers I possess, knowing not what evils I am capable of
Of evil
Oh what evil I could be capable of
I’m not even sure myself
But it is not revenge I obsess over each day and night that passes without contact from the outside world
it is not the obsession with destruction which landed me in my current predicament
not it is a much eviler emotion that strangles my thoughts day after day
Loneliness
it haunts me
I starve for the tiniest bit of attention or interaction
just something to get me by
My mind stopped counting the days long ago and hours have lost all meaning
I now count upon the wall my outbursts of uncontrollable despair and fury
the mixture of which leaves me distressed and damaged mentally as well as emotionally
I thought it certain in my own mind that I was right and they were wrong and that my fellow man would see the light if only I could violently shock them into waking up from the deep slumber I was assured they were under. I wanted nothing more than to change the world for the better. Why can’t anyone but me see how evil and twisted everything is. I wanted just to hold the mirror up and let them recoil in terror at what they had become. And surely then they would follow my path. Surely then they would see that I could lead them to salvation. And if they couldn’t understand, well I would just have to find a place where people would.
But now
I’d take it all back if I could. All that I destroyed, all that I ruined, I would give it all back if I could.
For one sunset
For one dip in a cool stream
for one summer breeze caressing my skin
And for the laughter
the laughter of the children that I’d always found so pure.
I swear
I never meant to hurt the children.
Today was a bad day
I stare at the ceiling waiting for dark, annoyed with the bits of light seeping through the cracks. My eyes itch and my brain burns, I feel the filth of the night before covering my flesh.
It happened again.
I almost didn’t make it.
I returned home just as the light was breaking over the hill above my home. My head had already begun to throb and my skin had already began to crawl. The lust of the night had long since worn off but the drunken stupor had left me confused and clumsy.
I really need to stop visiting the junkie sisters on fourth street. The conversation is never worth the buzz and the buzz is never worth the hangover. I fell the cobwebs flowing from my veins into my brain and dripping down the back of my throat spreading through my body like a plague. I just can’t seem to get back to that place. The way it was the first winter I found their love. We’d spend days upon days in the dark basement with our lungs on life support and our hearts beating poison. We would dance and sing and laugh and love and nothing ever felt permanent. It was all so fleeting and that is what I loved. I chased that feeling every night for years and the further away I get from that first winter the harder it seems to feel that way again. The further it seems I am away from those days. Its nothing now.
Just a sickness I can’t shake.
But I will go back again tonight
and I will feed once more.
Maybe tonight I’ll find what I’m looking for.
Maybe I’ll find some sort of fleeting moment to take my mind off the permanence of my affliction.
The disease that is my life.
My eternal life.
