My Mind - is not My own.

It is the sleepless nights,
the empty stares,
the half-hearted comments
the quickening breaths.

It is the clouded days,
the fizzling thoughts
the fear that is constant

My Mind - it is not.

caio quando fecho os olhos

não sei o acontecerá quando aterrar.
não vejo o fundo deste buraco imenso, mas também não o temo.
aliás, anseio-o.

tenho a cabeça crua.

já não sei se caio para o chão ou do chao,
ou para cima.
posso cair de diversas maneiras e faço-as todas ao mesmo tempo.

sou um só com o buraco ***** que me engole.
talvez até seja eu a engoli-lo.
vou ficar com uma indigestão.

quando penso que vou parar, escorrego mais fundo para o
estômago do vazio e o vazio desce-me pelo esófago.

se fechar os olhos adormeço ou acordo? vou tentar.

I feel nothing
maybe I feel a cloud that only rains in my presence but
I really feel nothing

Sometimes I see myself
in the googles of someone else who is far
very far,
watching me on a screen
and whenever I start to feel
I can feel someone else overriding
my control of myself
I am pushed to the very backseat
despite calling shotgun.

I feel nothing
except for Zeus' anger
at the ***** of my feet
in the form of volcanic lava
bubbling and toiling
as it overrides the meniscus boundary
but now
I am here
me
I am here
in my car in the driver's seat
I don't have to call shotgun
because my unconscious
yes, mine
my unconscious is all mine
and now,
I have never felt more alive.

But the lava always cools and resides,
despite the internal temperature,
solidifying only to be melted again
and I am where I belong
I am right in the backseat.

This girl
Is a construct,
Out of a fairytale.

She sounds wonderful,
Charming
Charasmatic to boot.

So, why did she leave?

Alone,

In this shell of a body,
This mask of a face,
And a voice so disjointed.

Out of place
Out of time
Out of memory
Out of love
Out of comfort
Out of hope

Look at all the old photographs,
No one could ever be so happy.

Burn to feel warm
But to no avail.

Myself?
An unreachable host
Look in the mirror
See nothing.

It's been 6 days since my head filled with the impenetrable fog
6 days since the hands
pulling vinyls from their sleeves to place the needle on top of the grooves to play any distraction available
didn't fit my wrists the right way.
6 days since I made the conscious decision to intoxicate my brain to the point of fuzziness
and now the side-effects that embody the alcohol can't seem to stop coursing through each individual vein and artery
infecting my brain cells with rapid dexterity and a hazy heavy cloud that refuses to clear itself from my eyelids.
It's as if my whole body has been violated by a virus that has spread too quickly to identify and now every last nerve ending has ceased to send messages caused by reactions to tangible foreign bodies belonging to the world
outside my own physicality.
The feet encased inside my shoes are not my own
They no longer help me to stand with ease
or walk without stumbling
I am not here writing this
But my weakening limbs have detached themselves from the rest of me and now there are electronic mechanisms and chemical concoctions doing the job my senses have since given up on.
I am simply not me.
My teeth feel like aggressively inserted slabs of cold enamel constructed without consent behind the pair of lips that are slowly fading every day
These are not my nails scraping against the skin I no longer recognise and feel safe inside.
I feel like I am floating and everything happening around this body is affecting what it is supposed to
But I am the exception.
Every single inch of me is now wrong
Out of place
Unfamiliar and uncomfortable
All the physical feelings are now examined down to the most minuscule fragments
Heightened to the point that they are now extinct in the realm I still try to call "my" brain.
I don't want this.
I don't like this.
I want the substance that is poisoning me to drain itself from my blood
Something that now seems impossible to do.
A constant state of surreality in a more literal sense than I could have ever anticipated.
I didn't mean for this to happen.
I will never be able to identify what it was that flipped the switch labelled:
"depersonalise"
I can only make mere guesses and vague estimations as to how much longer I will have to spend inside the physical manifestation of a body from which my title of "proud owner" has been stripped.

It still comes back sometimes
In ebbs and faltering waves.
I move my hand to relieve an itch
Or follow more tablets
with a swallow of water
And for a second
it doesn't pass through my throat
my fingernails miss the bridge of my nose
my hands detach
I float without meaning to

6 days since the haze appeared

I guess I'll keep counting

She stares at me,
Her eyes seem to search mine.
Her hands stretch towards the division,
Towards that finely marked glass line.

She seems to whisper something,
Sayings too faint to hear.
Yet her lips move with such passion,
As though her utterances are very dear.

I take a step back & stare,
At the being before my eyes.
Torn robes & mangled hair,
And scarred hands to my surprise.

I try to draw close,
Yet I cannot seem to reach.
It's as though a barrier lies between us,
One that I cannot breach.

I looked with more intent,
But the less I saw instead.
Yet in her eyes I could discern,
Something that filled me with dread.

Then suddenly it hit me
From out of nowhere
And like an unraveled mystery
All became clear.

For in my curiosity
And my desire for close inspection
I had failed to see
I was staring at my own reflection

#BlueRain
2016

Philosophical epistemology strumming adventures
Albeit, coherent mental decoding stratifications structured
Supposedly our world rests in our minds, revolving knowledge
An entwine of conceptual abstract flowing within oneself
The mind in the “I” the “I” a reality lived in my experiences
George of Leontini, a mine mind approving solipsism exploring innatism
Imaginative insights that nothing exists, the secrets secreting secrets
The knowledge behind the veils that remains un-communicated
A reverse of normality and known existences, moral disposition
Hypothesis of depersonalizations, adventures of self internalization
Justifications for what lies outside the Medulla Oblongata
Skepticism and just alternatives to western philosophy
Subjective unapproved experiences only robust in one’s mind
Descartes abstraction of inner experiences, reciprocated paradigm
Intuitively, perceived lived formulations of "Cogito Ergo Sum"
Psychological conscious undoubted individualistic thoughts
Berkley explored perspectives that physicality is an embodiment of the mind
The mind a decoding visualizer, that encompass the non-existent
An idealism marriage of ‘metaphysical’ and epistemological philosophy
The intense esoteric “dualism” verses the fiery “monism” reality
Mind boggling differentiated truths bleeding with blinking unresolvable hypothesis
The jiggered methodological, streamlining the un -logic sequential beats

SCREAM
SCREAM
SCARE AWAY THE SILENCE

CONCRETE QUIET
THRUMMING
STRANGLING
STIFLING
CHO-
KIN
G

I CAN'T BREATHE
oh god

1...
breathe
2...
relax
3...

nothing feels real
i can't see ...
shrink back
i'm shaking...
blink

become
human
again