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Do crazy people even know they're crazy?

Or do they just drift through insanity oblivious
to their own undoing?

If that's the case,
what about people who
think they're crazy?

Are we just
paranoid
overthinkers?

Are we only
eccentric
because we are
afraid?
Or is there something more
buried far below
that we
need
need
need
to see,
but at the same time
are scared
to find
out

And
on the other
hand,
what if
we're
right?

How are we to know?
How are we to trust our mind
to tell us we can trust our mind?
You hide me from the world
You keep me in a cage
But when there's real danger to be found
You never seem to see my pain


You think you are
attentive,
I no longer think that's true.
Cause you don't hear the
screams
of
help
each day I put
in front of you.


You ask,
"Do I need to worry?"
I think your eyes must be blurry!
How don't you see the warning signs
Blaring neon in my eyes?


You say that I should tell you
if something's
not
ok.


I tried
today.
You walked
away.


What else is there to say?
How is it you only care enough to ask when I'm ACTUALLY fine?
Then when the time comes that something is actually wrong, it's like you can't push it aside fast enough.
I think your prefrontal cortex is broken
12h · 36
Marooned (A song)
I'm sick, so sick of the cold
the sun beckons me
Want, wanting for more
than this dull city
Seek, seeking the waves
that crash so clearly
Miss, missing the breeze
that revived me

Feeling lost in black and white
I am craving color
Want nothing more than to take flight
Long for eternal summer

Marooned!
Mainland
Cry into my cold hands
Can't wait any longer
My hope's being slaughtered
I lost my Atlantis
Can no longer stand it
Alone in this place
Marooned

How, how many years and
Can I make it
Hold, holding back tears
I have to fake it
Fight, fight for control
Know if they see it
All, all will be lost
I'd rather die

Clinging to the songs that say
(I cannot make it) (I can make it!)
Broken down (Beyond repair?)
Long for this to be over

Marooned!
Mainland
Comforted by dark hands
Can't wait any longer
The anger burns hotter
My mind running rampant
Please, I cannot stand it
Split, torn, and twisted
Marooned

In my dreams
The mountains tower above me
Ocean waves crash below me
And the wind flurries around me
While the sun warms inside me
In my dreams
I am finally home
And I wish that I'd never wake up
I wonder, can I last another day?

Marooned!
Mainland
Reaching out with cold hands
Can't wait any longer
The pain's getting stronger
The home that I long for
Gets farther and farther
Can't take anymore
Marooned
Just a little song I wrote a while ago.
How obvious is it that I can't rhyme :(
Sort of bad, debated putting it here for a while.
It just isn't the same without being able to hear the music.
Oh well
It's cold outside today
colder even than it is inside
I have no escape from the ice that races through my veins
sending shivers coursing through me
It forces me to remember the only time
I was warm
Approximately 1,200 miles away, but feels
much further
Why is it so hard?
Why do I have to wait so long to get back to you?
I don't want to be cold forever!
I Tremble even now, words stuttering on my screen
They're cold too.
I can't even fathom waiting 4, 6, 10, 12 more years
I can't imagine being stranded in the cold for this long
I will freeze without you
Please
I don't want to be cold
forever
1d · 28
Hallucination?
This afternoon, I was pacing
in public.
I stepped perfectly
in the tiles,
perfectly
keeping pace.
Out of the corner of my eye, a little boy, walking just behind me
in my peripherals.
He had blue sneakers on.
I assumed it was my little friend,
coming to play.
But I could've sworn his sneakers were
red.
And how is he being so quiet?
I finally finished pacing, and whirled around
to scare him, make him laugh his adorable little laugh.
But there was no one there.
No one at all.
1d · 26
Why?
Why did we forget how to live?
Why did we forget how to love?
Why did we lose sight of what's important?

Why do we fear things we don't understand,
instead of learning how to understand them?

Why do we despise anyone "different"
and pretend to be a myth called "normal"?

Why do we mistreat God's beautiful creation,
and scorn and squirm and say it's gross?

Why do we get to decide who deserves respect, and why do we make those decisions on trivial things, like skin and age and money?

Why are we afraid to take risks, to get *****, to fall or fail?
Why do we hide from pain and blood and danger?

What is wrong with us?
What disease of human nature has cursed us so?

We go about the motions of survival without really living,
and wonder why we're depressed,
why we feel that life is meaningless.
We make it meaningless!

We need to shed the restraints of sanity!

We need to ask ourselves
WHY.
Why are we partaking in this foolishness?
Why don't we seek out something better?
Why do we settle?
Why did we stop believing in magic?

Why did we forget how to live?
I see you when it's stormy
cause oh how you loved the rain
I see you when it's sunny
because you brightened up my every day

I see you when it's cloudy
cause you were always in a mood
I see you when it's midnight
Because you were my moon

I see you when it's snowy
because you claimed you would freeze
I see you when it's hot out
because you loved the summer breeze

I see you when I laugh
because you loved to tell me jokes
I see you when I eat
on that poor old plate you broke

I see you when I'm bored
cause you kept me entertained
Because you wished that you could fly
I see you when I hear a plane

I see you in my bedroom
sitting on my floor
I see you each and every time
I hear my creaky door

I see you in the plants you grew
the vines and trees and flowers
I see you when I hear a child
SWEAR that they have powers

I see you in the darkness
because you used to get so scared
I see you when I'm crying
cause you swore that you'd be there

I see you in the waves
just like when we met
I see you in the shadows
when I remember that you're dead
I was about to go to bed, but my brain did... whatever this is
We use metaphors in poetry.
Something dramatic and attention-catching
to stand in for something ordinary.
Metaphors are poet's best friend.
After all, a poem without descriptive language is just
a really dramatic essay.
So my question is?
How do you know when they stop being metaphors?
Would you even ever know?
If it's dramatic enough,
no one will know.
Eerie concept...
2d · 58
Counting
One,
two, three,
Steps as I
Pace across the
Hard, tile hall-way
Making sure to keep beat.
My feet thud softly in step
with the music in my earbuds.
My hands whirl with the music quickly.
People are staring, but I don't notice,
Because I am not pacing inside my head.
In my brain, I am somewhere different and safe.
I'm not pacing with the music; I AM the music.
It seeps inside every part of my soul, heart, and being.
I grin with pure excitement as I spin in another world.
I used to love haikus. Yeah, because they were easy and quick and small. But mostly because I loved counting the syllables. Now, haikus aren't really my thing. But I still love counting syllables. So I thought maybe this would be more up my alley. Count the syllables as you read. It's fun!
What do I do now? I don't even want to think about it, think about
How my life is splitting apart at the seams and all of my panicked
Outcries are doing nothing to stop it.

Amazing, I think, that I've lasted as long as I have.
Maybe this is for the better?

I tell myself, but it tastes like a lie in my mouth.

If I cease to be Caligula, what do I have left
For myself. I am nothing, nothing!

Nobody truly understands that I am losing everything and am
Out of my mind with pain and fury. I can't stop
Thinking, why me? Why is it always me?

Can't I have good luck just one time? I'm not
Asking for much. I'm scared, no, terrified that my
Life is ending quicker than I ever anticipated. I wanted to die
Grandly, in a wild blaze of glory. Not with my whole life
Upturned, sinking slowly, suffering wildly,
Losing what I worked so hard to achieve,
And wishing I could go back and be great one more time.
Written by another para (who, obviously, goes by the name Caligula), in the future/ after I end his suffering and pack the daydream away to start over again
She wobbles slightly, perched upon her
thin, taught rope.
She prays desperately that she does not fall
does not break.
She has perched up there her whole life, once
hopeful and excited to be
a part of the show, but
She has long since grown weary
of trying not to fall off.
She is sick of the spectacle, sick of perching
on that worn rope.
She misses the pole she once held, that blessed protection
against the wind, rain, and storms,
but it has long since rotted away, as sick of the cruel game
as she was.
She wonders, looking down, down, down
to the jagged rocks below, if it would be easier to just
fall off.
She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and
lets go
She is no longer a tightrope walker but a
skydiver
She smiles blissfully for the first time as she tries out
her new hobby.
3d · 55
Eleanor
Eleanor
Who is she?
A shadow of a woman, waiting in earnest
for someone to care.
Beautiful phantom, hoping that someday
she will no longer be lonely.
Maybe no longer be Eleanor, but someone different
Someone better.

Eleanor
Where is she
Lingering in the church, waiting in earnest
for someone to notice her.
Majestic ghoul, sitting alone and longing
For a companion.
Someone to keep her company as she
slowly dies.

Eleanor
Why is she?
Holding on to hope, waiting in earnest
for someone to mourn her
Ghost at last, though everything seems to be the same
as when she was alive
As her coffin is placed in the ground
with no one there to toss dirt over it,
Eleanor finally loses hope.

Lonely Eleanor
Lonely, lonely
Cries tears that no one will see
She looks around, invisible as she's always been
Goes back to her home
Life resumes
As if nothing ever happened.
Based off of Eleanor Rigby by the Beatles
3d · 153
In the stars
I've always searched the stars
Wondered if there could be something there
for me.
Maybe a home? Maybe an origin?
Maybe even love.
They say we are all made of
stardust.
Then why is it so hard to get along?
How can beings with stars inside of them feel
hate?
So every night, I search the stars,
wondering if, somewhere, maybe, just maybe,
someone is out there,
searching the stars
just like me.
Longing for love.
Family.
A home that is not just a place, though that sounds nice too, but a
feeling, a
person.
Who loves me as fiercely as the sun loves the moon,
so much that we will make an
eclipse
together.
Are these things really written
in the stars?
Written from the perspective of another para, Soren, who's a lot sweeter than Necare
4d · 117
To be human 2
I used to wonder what it was like to be
human.
Used to believe I was a monster simply because of what
I was.
Now I understand.
I choose to be a monster because
they
deserve
it.
I choose to ****, to rip lives apart because of
what they did to mine.
Nothing will ever
be
the
same.
I am not a monster because I am
not
human.
I am not evil because I am
different,
foreign,
unknown.
I am not feared because of my name or my skin, but because of my
rage.
I keep my promises, always.
They deserve what is
coming.
They deserve to see the same destruction they sent
me
and my people.
They deserve to weep, kneeling on the
burnt floor
as they mourn those who were
stolen
from them
cruelly.
And, if I die in the process, then I will
finally reunite
with my family in
Caelum.
My revenge will be as
cruel
as the
names
I was called.
Written by the same para (Necare) grown up/present day.
4d · 225
To be human
I wonder what it feels like
to be
human.
Something I have never been and will
never
be.
I wonder what it is like to have a
soul.
Certainly everything must be better when you're human,
right?
Humans look out for each other,
right?
I have never felt like a
monster.
But I know I must be, because people always
told me
I was.
Maybe, if I was human, I would finally deserve
to live.
Maybe, if I was human, I would finally belong, and no one would
hate me
anymore.
My family says to keep it all
inside.
They say humans are the true
monsters.
But that can't be true.
Can it?
Written from the perspective of one of my paras (Necare) when he was young.
4d · 23
Untitled
I promise I'll come back to you, I promise.
Ink, spreading through my soul, my life, as I scribble endlessly:

Don't tell me this is normal, having two
Opposite sides of myself.
Never understanding how I can believe
Two opposing things at the same time.

Kindness always, but I long to be cruel. Love, but sometimes I
Need to hate, to feel the fire burning in my soul. The
Origin of this duality remains unknown, regardless of
What intense measures I have taken to try to understand myself.

Why am I so split? Why do I feel like I
Have to mask constantly to hide my dark side, to pretend like I'm
Only strange, not truly crazy.

I wonder sometimes what's wrong with me.

Am I falling deeper and deeper into
Madness every day?

Ask anyone: I'm "too nice". I'm sweet and enthusiastic and
Naive. But that is only one part of me. Nobody knows that every
Year I am forced to question if I am truly as good as the
Mask I put on. Yes, I am good. But I am also evil. My mind is an
Ocean, both life and death all at once. Am I just overthinking? Will I
Regret all of this worry, or regret that I didn't
Enlighten myself to the wonders and horrors of my mind sooner?
Another acrostic cause they're fun and simple and I'm bored
4d · 44
Palindrome
I run
Far away
Gasping for breath
How much farther?
How long until I'm safe?
Fleeing, fast as I can, from something truly dangerous
I cry from pain and fear as I sprint through the night
How do you evade yourself?
How do you run away from who you are?
I am desperate to break away, but
How do you run away from who you are?
How do you evade yourself?
I cry from pain and fear as I sprint through the night
Fleeing, fast as I can, from something truly dangerous.
How long until I'm safe?
How much farther?
Gasping for breath
Far away
I run
Words still hiding from me; this is sad; wanted to try the idea; will probably delete
What do you do when you
Forget
How to write
When the words inside you
Hide
Deep in the deaths of your mind
When, no matter how long you swim
Down
Down
Down
Until the sea is the color of ink,
The words still evade you.
The body is a cage
But the mind is
Infinite
And has infinite places to hide
I wish I had as much control as those sneaky little words do
Wish I knew how to hide like them
Wish the uncharted territory of my amygdala was lit up with bioluminescence
Like other, safer parts of my brain
I wish I understood
Understood why I’ve
Forgotten
How to write.
Despair clouds my mind
As I desperately search for escape I fear I will
Never find.
Can't you see I'm drowning in the
Emptiness of reality?

Inside my mind, I am free and there is
Not a cage in the world that can hold me.

Though, as hard as I try, I cannot seem to figure out
How to stay there
Eternally.

Gracefully, I leap and spin, a bird flying in the dark as
I mourn for the place I belong, home, that I
Long for every second, and every
Day. I wonder if I can survive this long without it. At the
End of the day I ask myself "Who am I?", and
Dread the answer that haunts my mind like a phantom.

Crimson stains spread through my soul as I fall into the
Abyss of madness.
Gasping for breath as I wake up to another day of
Endlessly dancing in my gilded cage.
I haven't seen a single acrostic yet so here we are.
5d · 36
He
He
He is dark,
A shadow, seeping into every corner
of my mind.
I feel his presence
When I stand
alone
in the dark.
He joins me in my solitude
And spreads throughout my soul
as I change to match his energy.
He is the night.
He is the midnight blackness of the trees against a navy sky.
He is water like ink splish-splashing quietly in the deep.
He is cold, his soul almost empty.
Almost.
He kills the light, bludgeons it viciously as the sun's gore flies.
Is there any compassion left in him?
Can he love
one
more
time?
He is beautiful, mysterious, intriguing.
I will spend the rest of my life trying to understand him, but
never
come
close.
He is Love and possession and power.
He is ferocity contained in silent stillness.
He was never a child, and did not come from Earth, but has always been there
in space
waiting
for
me.
Who is he?
Existing in a haze
Daydreams crowd her brain
She surrendered and smiled
Said, "I think I'll stay a while"
As she stared into space
And her mind began to race
The belonging that she chased
No longer did it evade

When

Alice, Alice, bleeding soul
Fled into her rabbit hole
Dreaming of a better world
Broken, mad and all alone
Alice, Alice, don't let go
But Wonderland is her true home
She needs it so she can cope
Madder than a hatter, Alice
Broke

So now she sits alone
She's lost track of time
Gazing into the distance
She exists within her mind
Sometimes she comes back
But joy she cannot find
So in her mind she'll drown
Falling deeper down, down, down

Alice, Alice broken soul
Lives inside her rabbit hole
Seeking out a better world
One where she'll never be alone
And they cry, "Alice, don't let go!"
But Wonderland is all she knows!
Reality holds no more hope
Madder than a hatter, Alice...

Alice, Alice hopeless soul
Held captive by her rabbit hole
Her daydreams will not let her go
Lost her mind so long ago
Alice, Alice, now she knows
Her Wonderland was all a hoax
Now she's just a shadow
Madder than a hatter, Alice
Choked
Personal, poetic rewrite of ALICE by Peggy
Welcome to Wonderland!
Alice looks around and decides she wants to stay a while.
Inside her brain, she can be
whatever she wants.
Inside her brain, her pain no longer exists,
and she is no longer Alice, but someone
better.
As she stares into space, she journeys deep inside her mind until she finds something new
and entirely perfect.
She found somewhere worth staying.
As she developed this new world
and her lovely characters,
paras,
she stayed for longer and longer
and was never bored again.
On the contrary, she was
happy.
Happier than she had ever been in reality.
So she wondered to herself,
Why
Leave?
But her Wonderland came at a price.
Dissociation was her plague as she fought to stay present
in what was once her reality.
As returning to her body became harder and harder,
Alice gave up trying
to fight the daydreams as they
crowded
her
mind,
leaving room for
nothing
else.
But it didn't matter.
Because in Wonderland,
Alice was content
free
loved.
She belonged.
She accepted her insanity as
beautiful.
And chose Wonderland as her home.
Everyone warned her of its dangers.
Tried to keep her
in their nightmare
reality.
But Alice vowed to
never
turn
back
as she embraced
her Wonderland
5d · 151
Moving on?
To the one I used to love, used to need:
You never
text
me.
It's like you
moved
on
the second I was
gone.
As for me, I've been
S T U C K
in the memories.
I can't not
think
of
you.
But I think I
may
be
moving
on.
Wrote this years ago haha not current just deep
Paper
A confider
A confinement
A trap
A relief
Beautiful
Noise
Silence
Screaming
Gasping for breath
Sitting quietly on a page
Flutters in the wind
So much, on so little
Tell it your secrets
It won't betray you
It won’t comfort you
Share with the world
Anonymous, if you want
It wont tell
It will be silent
Heartbreak, relief, sadness, love
On a weightless page
An airplane
A boat
A butterfly
paper
A rusty guitar
clutched
in white
bony
fingers.
Skeletal face
watching you.
Head tilted, listening
even
in
death.
Torn pages of ancient music
scattered on the ground.
As you meet his hollow eyes, they seem to
stare
into
your soul.
You reach out
and try to take the guitar.
But his fingers are too tight.
Coveting the guitar.
Refusing
to
let
go.
Refusing
to
say
goodbye.
5d · 32
Cartoon Sunset
cartoon sun
follows us
rays spiking the dark
holding it
back
holding
on
cartoon sunset
real,
gone
5d · 33
Everything
There's a beauty in letting go. A freedom in giving up. A peace in surrender. After fighting for so long in the dark, blinded by expectations and pelted by reality, fighting, fighting until you no longer remember what you're fighting for. Escape the gilded cage of sanity! Just let go. Break the machine. Succumb to the anarchy of the soul. And take a breath for the first time since you were a child, when reality meant nothing to you and you were everything and nothing at all.

Return to your dream-state, that peace between sleep and waking, where everything is whole and one, and you are warm all the way through. Where the patter of rain and voices blows like a breeze through your soul. Where you don't think, only feel. Remember what it was like to feel love. Take a breath of blissful oblivion before the searing bludgeon of reality rips you from the fog and everything shatters. Turn back time, to where nothing mattered, and beauty was never far away. Return to a time where you had no worries, and you were not aware of your own naivete. Inhale exhale inhale exhale inhale exhale listen carefully as you inhale exhale and try to remember why you're here, what your purpose is. You knew, once upon a time. Find it.

Time is harsh, it waits for nobody. No matter how loud, how desperately you scream "Stop!", it seems to move ever faster, ripping you away from temporary pleasure. We have no power over it. We have no power, and yet we still fight. Why? Ask yourself, ask yourself why you are still fighting. What reason do you have to live? Who do you fight for? Why do you stay? Do you even have a reason?

Look beyond to a world of color, past the fog and gray of reality. We have no power over reality. We have no power over anything. So I ask again, why do we fight? Release yourself. Reality cannot change, and we cannot either. As much as we fight against it, we are bound by reality and its rules. Bound to who we are. Unchangeable and unbreakable are we.

There is a monster inside all of us and it takes great bravery to embrace it. Most of us are too afraid, and keep fighting, fighting, fighting to deny it. What right do we have to claim to be good? Embrace the darkness. There's a beauty in letting go.

You people don't know what it's like to live. You're drifting, floating through your miserable existence on screens, idolizing people just as sad as you are. In a world devoid of color, you blend right in to the grayscale tragedy of what we call "normal". It's ridiculous! Too afraid to take risks, to prim and proper for adventure, too worldly to understand true beauty, too selfish for love. You flee from the ugly truth of existence and choose to hide in falsities of your own design. You don't think. You think you know everything but you know nothing. I mourn you.

This world is so beautiful, but to experience it, you have to get beyond the wretched order of civility. Don't stop running until you reach the place where color is everywhere, where the sun and the sea and the mountains and the forest are brighter than any screen and stronger than any worldly riches. Where you're finally warm. Don't stop running until you can look up and see heaven in the sky, until the sunset and the clouds and the stars and the breeze breathe new life into you like you've never felt before,.

Surrender to who you are meant to be. Light can only come from darkness. This world is not meant to be plain, not designed for boredom and black and white. We were made for color and chaos and freedom and risk and adventure. We came from nothing and to nothing we will return. Only our souls are endless, and they yearn constantly for the freedom of what is beyond life.

We idolize life, idolize existence. In our endless pursuit of pleasure we fail to see what's actually important. We've grown blind to beauty. We are NPC's, wandering through life doing whatever we're told, never thinking for ourselves.

The saddest thing is: It's never going to change. We're never going to change. The condition of the world, of humanity, worsens steadily and will continue to worsen until God comes to save us all. We cannot change, do not have the capacity to change, myself included. We are doomed to disintegration of the soul, doomed to slowly spiral into a cruel insanity called normalcy. We cannot change, we cannot fight. But we can let go.

So find the music. Find the poems. Seep into them, into the music and the lyrics and the words and the feelings until you become them. Listen carefully to every note and word and melody. See every moment, watch closely. Exit your body until you are floating above it all, noticing everything, feeling everything, loving everything.

Let go
Let go
Let go

Exhale inhale exhale inhale exhale inhale exhale inhale until you feel yourself becoming yourself, becoming the world, becoming a phantom and a planet and a child and a monster and an angel and an animal and yourself and everybody else and most of all become feeling, become love and desire and pain and rage and beauty and joy and peace.

There's a freedom in letting go

— The End —