A Dead Swan’s Song

Life is as real as you want it to be…

It is in those tiny pieces of time; those tiny pieces in between each long and dragged out second, those long and tedious seconds, which create the moments within living through a lie. They are just as painful, as they are life consuming. Too much of life has been consumed by these tiny pieces of time, which have dragged life out for far too long. It was not supposed to end this way, but it seems to be the only way I have known. It was never supposed to end this way; it was never supposed to end on me. There is a fist within me; clenching my insides tightly. I have been within the grip of this clenching fist for all of my existence; it seems to have been born within me, when I was birthed into this vibration. This clenching has been with me for so long I forget it is there, hiding within me; holding, tugging, gripping, tearing, molding me into what I have become. There is a special kind of safety, I have found within this special type of torture; a commonality, a familiarity, a deadening, a simple way of existing. I would not necessarily call it a way of living, as much as I would call it an emotional and mental mummification of the spirit. This clenching has not allowed me to evolve beyond a certain point within my life; holding me back, pulling me down to the point of submersion. I drown within my inner thoughts, my speech, and my life within this deep, unbearable clenching submersion. I have learned over and over again to breathe without breathing. This is a life consuming task, which I have grown accustomed to dealing with. It will move on me, more and more each day, as this is how I have learned to overcome the clenching’s hold over me. Over the course of my lifetime, I have learned how to master the submersion. This is the true difference between you and I; the true difference between life and death. This is the life of the internal, as this is the death of the external. I have now mastered both life and death. I have now mastered the illusory material, and the non-cognitive external. I no longer allow the clenching to defeat me within my life, as I now swim within the black waters of its clenching darkness. Now, I am the clenching’s master; I own her darkness.

Grasping for Air

I was never good at any of it, nor could I understand how to do it. Even today, it is the one thing I have struggled with the most. For the life of me, I could never understand how to connect with people. It has been impossible for me to maintain a personal relationship with anyone during my lifetime. I have found it challenging to open myself up, as the return for doing so is unwanted judgement and critiques. What is the motivation to open up to another; when the openness would be met with judgement and criticism? I cannot see how there would be any type of motivation within it. The others, they are greatly disturbed by my dark expressions and modes. The others are disturbed to their core with my expressions; this is how I know I am doing something right. I greatly enjoy disturbing the others with my work; witnessing the repulsion and disgust, swim across their faces, as though they are grasping for air. This is how I know I have hit something deep within their psyche; something they have been hiding from the world and themselves for years. Their judgements and criticisms are always the same; utilizing basic adjectives such as: off, strange, awkward, and my favorite, which I hear the most: weird. The majority of the others in society are base and mundane to begin with, let alone possessing the capacity to comprehend myself or my expressions. I like it better this way, it allows me the ability to quietly exploit their feeble insecurities; one insecurity at a time, through my expressions and modes.