Nothing and Everything

Faded

Losing any sense of reality, questioning my own sight, I feel the heavens and the earth wrap a noose around my neck rooting me with their might. I writhe and tremble, gasping for air as they suffocate my every last breath. Imprisoning me in what is to be my tomb, they lucidly shift in patterns of elliptical torment. Looming ominously, waiting for our deaths. They sit there as my sense of self completely diminishes. Oneiric visions of exotic existence meld simultaneously with fantasies composed of pure illusions. The grip on sanity becomes a fallacy. My mind trends weightless but buried pains weigh heavily, echoing off of the chasms of regret that I can not change. A history of agony and loss of everything that meant anything to me. A misery of which I wish to be free. I don’t know how got here and I don’t know where I am going. I’ve let all direction slip away. Continuing to wander, til I too fade into distant memory. Living a lie in an attempt to be happy. 

Malevolent Demons

There are dark creatures just over the mountains mist. Peeking from beyond the veil, they watch me, hiding in the corners of plain sight. They are Demons in all forms, twisted figures in many shapes. They are very clever and they seek my destruction by blackening what’s left of my soul. I hear them whisper every night, singing sweet lullabies of butchering heads, gutting children, and mutilating virgins with large knives. Plaguing me incessantly with torment and despair. They foster ill will and brew malevolence into the very ether of my being. Manipulating light as well as those who are near. Echoing mistrust and fear, they separate my mind from the people I once deemed real. These invisible hellions have no motive, yet they seek chaos as if to do evil were their sole purpose. Inciting brutality, savagery and onslaught for no reason except the sake of terror. Every waking moment they scheme inside, propelling me closer towards the edge of sanity. Offering me the chance to take a life they fill me with an inextinguishable rage that burns through my fists into my veins. My blood boils as sweat accumulates from the heat of my vicious craze. Ringing chimes growing fainter and louder muffling any screams for salvation. A dark tunnel begins to take form as I am blinded by an overwhelming white haze. As I awaken I find my self drenched in dark crimson red, used battered and broken, fulfilling service as a vessel for the harbinger of change.

Lucky

Death is an inevitable constant in the vast expanse of space and time…

Even stars destined to live trillions of years will too one day die.

So what are we humans then? Living our relatively short lives obsessing over possessions, trifles, and lies.

We are consumed by our present selfishly concerned with wants disguised as needs. We never stall our destruction of nature always seeking new heights of greed. We basque in our own glory, never seeing the misery of our own kind. We are blissfully ignorant that our reality is fragile and can be wiped out in a blink of an eye. We continue to focus on our pride, never waiting for even a moment to realize that everything that is alive will die.

Fated are we to return to the void from which all things came. Absurd it may be, but this very notion illuminates my mind. It gives me perspective. It illuminates the preciousness of our current state. To live in the time where everything in the universe is just right to allow to growth of organic life is amazing, and may very well be called divine. But it is increasingly apparent to me that we are just simply very very fucking lucky.

Knowing this brings me peace, and makes my time alive that much more valuable and meaningful to me. Though our lives are short and relatively of no significance to the greater design, the mere fact that we are and that we exist from the elements forged in countless stars that blasted out into the cosmos to form into new compounds that eventually placed around a relatively cool sun and let bake over billions of years allowing for evolution to take place with generations of ancestors recombining DNA to eventually grow larger brains so that I could access the compounded knowledge of all human kind to ponder my own significance is magnificently fortuitous. We will die just as everything will, but we are lucky that we are alive right now.

All is consumed by the destroyer. Fragile is the state of reality. Nothing can forever be. Everything has to have an ending. RIP 10 armed percolating bong of doom. You shall be missed. Sad face…

Futility

Life is pointless Resistance is futile Embrace death, for he is simply a friend Even as the razors sink And the crimson red gushes from within Calming whispers of reassurance resonate Suicide is the cure To rid the human race Of all corruption and disease Our souls will finally be free Of earthly sins and maniacal decrees We can rest in peace For no one Shall ever feel pain again. To end the human race is the only way.

End of our Dying Days

Our lives are not sacrament We refuse to live for the sake of living This is a generation of malcontent We need a purpose, we want greater meaning This existence is futile, to deny this is to refuse logic We see clearly, we’ve grown tired of the monotony, the frivolities of everyday We are done with mindful violence and the arrogant and selfish who define it An endless wave of agony takes form as boredom weighs in, seeping from our cerebral cortex then circulated by our veins, engulfing the whole body in a misery complete, bordering lines of the insane, a state of mind achievement peaking with the dangerously deranged Like mad men we dream of gods drowning in pools of tears, yet our prayers continue unanswered We are trapped here doomed to simply live to the end of our dying days.