Well, Ive always thought the world was a big joke,
a cosmic prank that was a bit lacking in humor.
but, haha, now I've started to see,
the only joke around here was me.
I was on an ivory hunt,
But turned out I'd left the guns behind.
I've only done this thousands of times,
Verbalized unworthy routes and verbs into actions
I'm digging down,
Deeper into the sucking mud.
In this swamp 'til it swallows me whole.
I'm painting myself with the colors of pale blues, browns and deep purples
When will the bruises fade?
When will they go away?
Never.
I've only done this thousands of times
Filled myself with the anxiety and self loathing,
Forgetting to forget that I'm all alone.
But remembering to remember that I'm not supposed to know,
Separating myself even more.
So this child, absent from the world, starts to cry
"I don't wanna feel alone, but I can't be that stupid.
One can only blind the self for so long, you know?"
Life has threw up in my face
She's only done this thousands of times
Reminding me, I've always been alone,
And by God, that's how things'll stay!
So, life becomes a challenge?
a struggle for survival?
For responsibility?
for will?
I agree.
This life, and all that is to me,
Has been willed and accepted, by me.
In one way or another.
The bubble inside me has burst.
Truth is, and always has been,
I am nothing but what I have created.
I've settled this matter,
For once and eternity,
So it may be seen,
That you do not see me.
You do not know me.
You do not care.
But neither do I, now.
I"m not sorry that I'll never explain my motives.
I'll never find the words to describe why I keep heading down this path,
the path where I seem to cut others off after much too short an accompaniment.
Perhaps I'm addicted to the suffering of the soul.
To that immense transcendence of nothingness that brings.
I suppose is a sort of curse.
But at least is my curse.
The only constant in my life.
So I'll stick to this sickening nostalgia,
As she has stuck to me.
For now, no more weight,
Or tears,
Time, or life.
Do I lose?
It does feel like it sometimes, that's for damn sure.
But I can't keep holding on,
For that something,
For that someone,
For that anything that makes me feel connected.
I've realized now is a dead end for me.
I'll hold on to the emptiness now,
I'll embrace her,
I'll love her,
I'm going to fuck her every night in a crappy hotel.
Just as she has raped me for so many years.