A Forgotten Path

To relinquish your past can be an extraordinarily tedious endeavor. This is especially true if you are of the over-thinking type. You know the type; regurgitating the same thoughts over and over again in your mind, to the point one creates and projects scenarios within their thoughts, that could not be farther from reality. But really; isn’t reality subjective for everyone? This is our path, to create something new, while trying to forget our old ways in order to move forward in life. There can be a specific type of derangement, which one may experience when transitioning from their metamorphosis. This derangement will come in the form of a tiny, prickly, but mostly numbing thought. This thought will gnaw at your spinal column until you lose all feeling within your body, except for your mind. Your mind will know an agony greater than any type of physical pain you could ever imagine. This is the mind-numbing interlude within Death’s transition. It is referred to as ‘falling asleep’ because you are falling away from yourself; the corporeal existence you have experienced within that specific day. It is referred to as ‘waking up’ because the ‘wake’ (the remembrance of one’s death is now over. Death is life’s greatest illusion; knowing you will eventually be at peace within yourself when death occurs can be an invitation to explore one’s inner workings. The derangement you will experience, is simply a withdrawal from the habitual psychosis (psycho dramas) one creates as their reality while they experience their waking life.

I am a Realist

It can be a confining feeling; being locked up within your mind your whole/hole life. There is no escape from the prison of one’s mind. A common place I have seemed to find myself in on a daily basis. There is no shelter in here, only the confining torment of the mind’s tricks and pleasures. A carousel of regrets, self-hatred, and lost opportunities. There is no escape from one’s self. To feel special and unique; this is a daydream only dreamers and deceivers fondle themselves in. I myself am a realist, as I can taste the bloodlust behind closed eyes. I can feel the temptations draining and rotting me from within. This is why I crave the isolation chamber; to keep the beast hidden from within, away from the rest of the world. No one has ever mistaken me for one of those weak-minded or weak-willed sycophants, who constantly need to be validated by complete and total strangers. The only thing worse than that, is being a stranger within one’s own mind.

Breath is Completely Overrated

The transition of an internal demolition. Killing the insides, just so you can grasp fragments of the air around you in order to breathe. Breath is completely overrated. Tell that to a drowning victim. In a way, we are all victims; of our decisions, choices, and personal attitudes. When life is suffocating you, and you do not have the internal capacity to breathe, it can be somewhat challenging to see straight. This is especially true if your lenses are dirty, and you need a new prescription. It’s nothing new to me: old hat. These cycles run themselves around my mind, and through my soul. Soul-crushing. A transition’s grin. The depths of insanity. The reality of uncertainty. I still look for that supposed silver lining. It’s covered in the blood and wreckage of my past. Another endeavor I could not spiritually afford. An affirmation. A devastation. The circumference of a broken heart. The radiance of a glowing death. Tears and fears in arrears. The only way to pay for life’s decisions and choices when under duress. How else did you think it was going to turn out? There is no fairytale to hold on to. There are no remembrances, which do not make me cringe. Some would say, “Just hang in there, it’ll work out if you just give it some time.” I feel as though time has run out. Time ran away from me crying and screaming. I truly wish I knew better, But at this point in my life, what the fuck is the point to any of it? The love I had within me died the day I was born.

Contaminated

This is where you and I depart. You portrayed yourself to be something and someone you are not. Another illusion within your childish confusion. Maturity, depth, and substance, are character traits you are incapable of possessing. What you do not know, and will probably never know. Me. You simply never took the time to peer beyond the hair. The jacket. The personality. The soul. I do not blame you, as it is not your fault. You were groomed to live this kind of life. Your parents, social media, and the propaganda of “Toxic Masculinity” has brainwashed you, along with 95% of the other sheeple within this global society. You cannot seem to find the term in the dictionary. Depth and consideration were never strong character traits within you. A selfish disposition is your body armor. The new normal. The new way of living your life. One. Day. At. A. Time. One childish fantasy at a time. Another death from childhood, which keeps your ideologies fresh and clean. You have been contaminated by everything you have thought was healthy for you. That type of death will slowly and steadily seep into every part of your being. This is why you will never know the depths contained within me.

Undertows

Words have undercurrents, or undertows you could say. Contained within these underlying depths; this is where the true intentions, the true meaning of that in which is being communicated and inhabits. This is also where the fragmented deaths you have experienced within your life go to live and breathe. Nothing is permanent, as life, and everything contained within it are temporary. Finding peace within yourself (within your words) is the only peace you will find within your waking life.

All we need to do is think for ourselves properly; never allowing external forces to propagandize our thought process. Many “people” within our current civilization, do not have the capacity to properly think for themselves, as they are strangers to the critical thinking aspect of their mentality. For the majority of “people” this aspect of their mentality does not exist. These “people” become confused when they hear words they do not understand; moreover, they become more confused when the definitions of words they use have been suddenly changed. Words are used today, in which their definitions do not belong to them. Change the words and definitions of the “people”; you change the way the “people” think. This is the Control Machine’s undying purpose and goal. To control one’s thought, is to control one’s very own soul.

Returning our mind’s ownership to ourselves, is probably the most important act you will ever endure within this lifetime. The majority of “people” no longer enjoy thinking for themselves, as they prefer to be guided, and ultimately told why, what, and how to think. For the majority of “people”, they no longer see the purpose, or find any type of need to think for themselves. It’s okay, let the Control Machine think for you. By doing so, the Control Machine will comfort you with all of the mental anguish you have always longed for. When one accepts mental laziness, one ultimately accepts mental death within themselves.

Which One Are You?

They are still talking to me; reminding me how little I have left to fall, in order to hit the bottom of life’s cesspool. Another pacifist trying to give me survival advice. Another noose I will need to tighten. Another indulgent delight I get to take part in. It never gets old; pacifying the ones who constantly need too much attention. Death, will more than likely be the only type of attention they will ever receive from me. The tears and fears they spread amongst themselves. Another virus to add to their motion picture pandemic. What kind of face covering do you wear to protect yourself from their stupidity? Some wear pointy hoods of cotton, while others wear M-95’s. I prefer for them all to see my face; naked and bare, and the disgust which is displayed upon it. It makes no difference to me, of how the others live their lives. All I ask is for the others not to proselytize their stupidity upon me. Really? Is it too much to ask? They get bored too easily; with absolutely no type of personal interests whatsoever, to keep them sharp, agile, or even self-aware. Self-awareness is truly lacking within these types, as though they are expecting everyone around them to be as dull, numb, and as stupid as they are. Very few have the ability to honestly think for themselves. Tell me; which one are you, agile or board?