(no subject)
Harbour so much hate.
So much anger.
Fluid, black, anger.
So fucking bitter, days consist of gritted teeth and a comfortable yet unbearable, tepid existence.
Waiting.
Wishing.
Worrying.
Vomiting.
Omitting all hope.
(Always the quiet ones)
And it'll pass, like it always does. Gone is the insomnia, gone the paralysation - gone the overkill, the overload, the trains of thought...
He asks what sparks it.
Nothing, I reply.
Really, when there is nothing. When there is nothing left, nothing to do, no empty, horrid, acceptable activity or middle class bullshit to attend to.... When there is nothing but the night and your own mind. And with a simple salute to the terminal sadness of reality, I rejoin the march back towards hell, the lines back to inner peace and realisation.
It's much clearer when it aches.
The twinge brings comprehension...
Don't get me wrong, though. It's not pain in the sense you grasp...
It's clarity.
?
So much anger.
Fluid, black, anger.
So fucking bitter, days consist of gritted teeth and a comfortable yet unbearable, tepid existence.
Waiting.
Wishing.
Worrying.
Vomiting.
Omitting all hope.
(Always the quiet ones)
And it'll pass, like it always does. Gone is the insomnia, gone the paralysation - gone the overkill, the overload, the trains of thought...
He asks what sparks it.
Nothing, I reply.
Really, when there is nothing. When there is nothing left, nothing to do, no empty, horrid, acceptable activity or middle class bullshit to attend to.... When there is nothing but the night and your own mind. And with a simple salute to the terminal sadness of reality, I rejoin the march back towards hell, the lines back to inner peace and realisation.
It's much clearer when it aches.
The twinge brings comprehension...
Don't get me wrong, though. It's not pain in the sense you grasp...
It's clarity.
?