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.

Conditioned.

At this very moment. You are being conditioned. In thought. In word. In deed. They are not your own, as these are circumstances “brought to you by (buy)” the Control Machine. Your new best friend. Your new God. Your new parental advocacy committee. Your New Normal. You are living a lifestyle/lifetime, that has been carefully molded and mandated for the consumption and convenience of your consciousness. That gritty taste upon your tongue, and in between your teeth; that’s the taste of dirt in your mouth. What else would you be tasting lying six feet under, trapped in a casket?

An Everlasting Tone

It is not that I do not care, it is more of having put caring on pause. It is as though life is a movie I am watching, and I can pause it anytime I choose, simply to take a restroom break. Yeah, you’re right; it is pretty much shit all the way around. I should have listened to you from the beginning. I never did listen, as I have always wanted to figure out things (life) out on my own, and for myself. Sometimes it works out; sometimes it doesn’t. Does it really matter? None of it ever did, and I am beginning to recognize it now, as I was not able to do so before. What makes a bell ring at the specific tone in which it does? It is obviously due to the way that specific bell is shaped. Well, do you think you and I ring within specific tones, in accordance to the way you and I are shaped? I am still ringing-out from those choices and decisions. An everlasting tone, which still haunts my mind. The ringing is so loud, so abrasive, it makes my inner demons hide within their own shadows. Could you imagine? What a fucking waste of time; hiding within the shadow of your own shadows. It’s okay though; time is the only thing you can waste, when one has completely lost their mind, and everything that comes within it.