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We live in a grey city
Where the sun burns and the night suffocates
The city of calming loudness and deafening silence
My thoughts and sounds of flickering Fluorescent lights
Smoke from crashing astral flights
Innocent flaming childish kites
Dancing clowns censor horrific sights
And they think that it's right
To shackle our minds from reaching heights
They know they'll never might
So they stuff you in mental solitary cell so tight
Solitude in darkness, wishing for the faintest light
There's no God in the city, and no body gives a *****
This is how it feels to live in Saudi Arabia, most especially my hometown Qatif.

Written on May 31st '18
I am dysfunctional
A jumbled up bag of puzzle pieces that never fit together
An astronaut spiraling endlessly forever
Major Tom watching on
His suited flailing clown
My mental health is an elevator that only seems to go further down
A rabbit hole neverending heading to my dysfunctional peers
Mad hatter grilling his eyeballs to a perfect sear
Nothing but manical laughs to hear
Nothing to doubt and nothing to fear
Nothing but insanity and gloomy clouds, no day is clear
I am dysfunctional
Yet none of these puzzle pieces seem to fit anywhere but here
Written on June 4th '18
I've come to the realisation that our lives don't really matter
Each and every single life of ours is just another dot on a black paper
We scream and shout for intention
We shout "I am different! I exist!"
But to what end?
We slowly change without realising it
As if our subconscience is just trying to find any means possible to stand out
Till every single one of us is a different shade of grey than the other
7 billion grey dots on a black page
And still none of us stand out
We begin to fall in some state of limbo
Searching for broken dreams to cling on to
Or fantasies to day dream about
Its funny how they always ask young children the same old question
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
Instead they should be asking
"Whats shade of unrecognizable grey do you want to be when you grow up?"
It wouldn't matter if i was erased would it ?
So go on God , take away what you gave me
Cause i clearly don't know how your black paper works and i chose to be white
March 13th '15
I've got tunnel vision
Fixated on death
A year passes with every conscious breath
My brain's cell bars seem to be closing on themselves
Mind Solitary confinement
Where my best friend is a dead rat that wouldn't stop talking
I'm slowly but surely crushed to death
He died on his back staring at me with a grin if a rat could ever have one
A million tiny spiders leave its bowels
Insect mandated seppuku
"you even **** at dying you scrap"
Crack
The slowest bone crack if there ever was one
As if bending your bones like rubber before breaking like egg shells
"There was nothing to fear and nothing to doubt"
I guess that's what the song's about
There wouldn't be a better song to die to
Crack
Written on May 19th '18

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