I know there is more you wish you could do, but haven’t you already done enough? There is so much you have tainted within me, just from wanting to help. I know you think you can help, but if you could; would I be dying right now? Right now, the best thing for you to do, is to let the dying die. Allow nature to take its course; allow the death to become a rebirth. Too many people try to inflict their control over the uncontrollable, as this is probably why they participate in such ridiculous activities. Too much control has already been inflicted, as this is why the rebirth must be initiated. A simple trade: a death for a life. A simple trade worth living and dying through.
Tag: death
The Best Thing for You
I know there is more you wish you could do, but haven’t you already done enough? There is so much you have tainted within me, just from wanting to help. I know you think you can help, but if you could; would I be dying right now? Right now, the best thing for you to do, is to let the dying die. Allow nature to take its course; allow the death to become a rebirth. Too many people try to inflict their control over the uncontrollable, as this is probably why they participate in such ridiculous activities. Too much control has already been inflicted, as this is why the rebirth must be initiated. A simple trade: a death for a life. A simple trade worth living and dying through.
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.
Dreams
The mind can sometimes be the quicksand of the soul; pulling one down into more endless realms of thought, which desire nothing more than to suffocate you and your soul in their entirety.
A Self-indulging Type of Gratification
There was a time when I could see life clearly, it was so long ago, I can hardly remember it. Within my thoughts and memories; I try connecting the pieces I can remember, to the pieces I think I remember. For some odd reasoning, which I cannot thoroughly understand; it is more important to me now today, than it was when these memories and thoughts were occurring within my past, when it was in the present time. I am not entirely sure as to why this is, as these past experiences have been conjuring themselves up from within my mind without my permission. These past experiences have been occurring within my mind more intensely over the past two years, than they have ever been previously. My mind feels as though it is trying to heal itself from the life, which I have made it experience. It is an infected way of life, a life without a remedy, cure, or a vaccine from future explorations. What does my mind know, which I am failing to see for myself within my own life? This is information it knows, but refuses to entirely reveal to me. I have lived a diseased life many times over; self-inflicting infection upon myself, as though I would have eventually built up a tolerance to this pandemic the others refer to as life. Life is a form of treatment, as it is also a prescription for death; the only true remedy for this disease called life. I have acquired a strong tolerance against the diseases within life, which I have thoroughly exposed myself to. After a life-long journey acquiring this tolerance, I can now see the diseases within this life were of my creation; nothing and no one else’s. Perhaps this tolerance attainment, was a self-indulging type of gratification, which I could not get enough of. Perhaps it was simply an endurance factor; exploring the depths of what I could withstand before I would actually drown, while still maintaining the ability to resuscitate myself back to a life I was somewhat familiar with. This self-indulging type of gratification, has left me lean, tired, malnourished, jaded, but mostly hollow. I have approached the walls of my core, as I can still lick off some of the residue, which has been left behind; emptying myself of the true, singular essence of innocence, I was gifted with in the beginning of this incarnation. I am of the diseased type of self-indulgence; seeking my pleasures through physical and mental gratifications.
The People Pleasers
The weakness within the others, will naturally lack the kinetics needed to manifest any type of creative character trait through volition alone. This is why the others, are so easily mailable to become good little controllable worker bees; falling in line, before the line severs their outstretched necks from their in-line body’s. I watch as these people pleasers fall in line; killing themselves within their actions, seeking acceptance from those who are also seeking acceptance. This impending rejection they so cunningly and desperately shun, is ever present; breathing over their boney shoulder, lurking within every dark corner, and hiding amongst everyone they will ever come into contact with. There will never be a relief from the unchained vanity dwelling within their weakness. These are the crude and idle projections of indolence, which these others have aspired to seek out within their debilitating desires.
G.G. Kalfas 