Tag: word press blog

A Funerial Heart

ggkalfas

The cold warmth of a funerial heart. These are the times I can feel the disease within me; the disease within my mind. A diseased mind is a cure for life. A diseased mind and the living death, are truly the only cure for living within one’s life. How does one live in a world, where one is not recognized by it, yet they do not recognize the world? There is no day within the eternal night. The cessation within one’s own lifespan. Soft reverberations within one’s own rotting hand. The solitary warmth of one’s isolation, is the disease of ease. Too many attention seekers are seeking me. You must witness the nocturnal massacre, as you deeply breathe in their annoyances. Try not to choke on them.

There is a slight distinction within the hue, as neither you or I possess perfect eye sight. There is no vision, other than the type of vision one will allow to be bestowed upon them. Do you really think there is another type? No, there is not, as it was all a scam to begin with. I thought you knew all of this by now; I guess not.

Deep Within the Burn

ggkalfas

When strength and curiosity collide; this is when you know your time is up. The early hours are usually the most honest hours; containing the thoughts that would not dare to allow one to sleep. Hunger. Nausea. Ridicule; all burning a hole in your stomach. A fire that will burn you alive. A type of scarring a skin graft will never be able to cover. The rage acts out on behalf of your past; erasing, or at least trying to erase, every defeating memory within your thought process, which burns you alive. The Phoenix. The only ashes I have seen, are the ashes from my cigarettes. Breathe it in deeper. Choke on the aroma. Allow the bliss to settle deep within the burn. Be the fire, which burns you alive. Be your inner yearning.

Recognized and Glorified

ggkalfas

The failure to circumvent any type of diseased situation, could be quite devastating to the body energy field. To even be in close proximity to a diseased situation, could in fact be costly to one’s sacred energy. There are many types of people, who do in fact drag their tedious and belligerent undertakings, around with them wherever they travel to. This is how they showcase their life’s trophies to everyone they come into contact with. It is a devastating double-feature, with many script rewrites, and a cast of utterly and grotesquely disgusting sheeple. This is how many of the others display their personal anathema to the society they so desperately desire to impress. Yet, when given the full attention any neurosis deserves; the sheeple will utilize and exploit their life’s problems and failures, in order to bond with other like-minded damaged sheeple. This seems to be a tradition, which many of the others celebrate on a daily basis. The sheeple desire to be recognized and glorified for their pain, as though there is some type of bountiful treasure to be obtained by showcasing their personal anathemas, as though the ones around them honestly and sincerely care. Other sheeple do not care about other sheeple; they never have and they never will. Simply because one chooses to self-medicate themselves into a self-indulging stupor of self-importance, is reflective of just how much this other, truly does not know themselves. It is also reflective of how little of a desire exists, in order for this other to face the truth of their internal nature; hiding deep within their internal core.

Don’t You Find it a Little Difficult?

ggkalfas

Empathic fucks. Many of the others locked themselves away, as they were life-threateningly afraid of the cove. Spending some quiet time alone, needlessly isolating themselves away from the world, made them an empath. Everyone is now an empath. Also, everyone is now punk rock; sporting their multi Kool-Aid colored hairstyles. I remember when being an empath and punk rock, actually meant something. It was a statement of defiance; coloring your hair pink, blue, or green. Now, I see middle-aged men and women, and older; rocking the Kool-Aided hair trends. Honestly, I couldn’t give two shits, how any of the sheeple want to live their lives. My issue is that the Kool-Aided hair, is yet another symbol of how the mindless follow the mindless; following some ridiculous trend, simply because it is in. There exists a purpose and meaning contained within punk rock. When grandmothers are sporting Kool-Aided hair, this is when punk stops being punk. Punk is a huge “Fuck You” to the establishment. Don’t you find it a little difficult to say Fuck You, to the enterprises you so desperately promote and provide income to? Of course not; you’re a fucking empath. Why would you take anything into consideration? This is why punk is dead; pieces of shit such as yourself killed it off a long time ago. Tell me empath; what are my vibrations communicating to you right now? No. That is not anger, nor hostility you are “feeling”. What you are feeling is the fear pouring forth, coming from within you. You know your claims of being an empath are false, as this too is another trend hidden within the nouveau normal. I know you want to belong. I know being part of a group or a tribe is extremely important to you. But you have lost yourself within seeking the acceptance of other sheeple such as yourself. Don’t blame me for your childhood, I wasn’t there. Whatever daddy issues you have, they are yours to work out. And believe me; your tribe couldn’t give two shits about you or your issues for that matter. This is the main reason so many of the sheeple such as yourself seek acceptance; they know the others do not care about them or their issues, but they keep searching, as they hope to find other sheeple who will.