I lost sight of myself
a few hundred miles back
And down here it's hard to fight
the gray hue of a panic attack
I've been looking so hard for an exit to u-turn
I missed the coruscate skyline of you that I yearn
Pressure points of totality
Shifting gears to insanity
See the world with clarity
Never mention immortality
A flight of thought towards eternity
Comprehending the universe in its complexity
Now every thought’s a new universe
A new journey towards the point
of complete and utter silence
Where one is whole
and whole is one
Trespassing through realities
Never fighting with anxieties
No more need of sedatives
No sign of the pestilence
Never ever clinging by the fake reality
Words smiling by the path of clarity
Bringing light bringing sanity
Endless trip of visions
All there is and more
Making new decisions
Capturing the whole
Me and reality that is death and fatality
Just another facet of tiring mortality
Existence seems like a fallacy
In the realm of possible realities
i remember not being able to hear myself when i spoke.
i looked at my friends reacting to my words i never heard.
it was all very confusing and very scary.
i let whatever covered my ears take over me,
at some point i stopped trying to fight it.
nothing could describe the feeling of when i could hear again,
having to repeat myself to catch up with the conversation i started.
My own soul left me.
Ire gulfed me till I found out,
‘twas seeking a home
It’s gotten worse this week.
It’s usually bearable,
I feel like i’m constantly floating.
Nothing around me is real.
Figments of my imagination.
Puppets in a show of my dreams.
However, my dreams are reality.
They are not dreams at all.
Not in the slightest.
Sorry. I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve not really had anything to write about but this was something that was playing on my mind. I hope you like it. Sorry
Intoxicated by my thoughts.
Wishing I knew what is making it all swerve around like snake or worm. I don’t know what caused it? It might had been the tragic event that happened on Wednesday? Even maybe this might be my next mental state prospective; that is strange like all of them.
I wish that everything was normal and that I could think straight. Too many things my brain can process, a tragic event or my brain trying to confused me with answers on a test cause I start thinking about my future. Wishing I could go back to the past and be in those comfort memories, that I day dream about and play in a movie in my brain on constant.
Only if I could dissect brain. Though I’m in this real world; I’m supposedly in. I could dissect it; however, it would be hard cause I have Derealization and Dyslexia.
Written October 5, 2018 at 9:18 PM in my notes
"where are you right now?",
she asked me looking straight into my eyes.
i felt like i could cry in this moment.
i didn't know where i was.
although you were right in front of me,
you sounded far away.
"bring yourself back."
i felt myself slipped more and more away,
my existence and sense of reality melting from my fingertips while my mind stayed,
There are conversations in which my mental frame leaves the
parameters of my body.
No longer can I fathom the concept of ‘being in love’
I witness dates
feel as an apprentice of such a trade might
an inadequacy to replicate the models of those before me
Gone are my indefinite moments of sanity
Childhood is laced in linens of silk
Finely crafted spontaneity lacking responsibility
Ceaseless are the times in which I must conceal the thoughts I abhor
Depravity seems to chain my soul
which leads to
a Resolution in pixelation
a visual handicap which has left my eye blind to choosing right
My friends make me happy
but as a glass transforms back-&-forth between half-empty &
one glance across our wooden dinner is all it takes
My thoughts to liquidate into bars of gold
Telling myself I must exchange their conversation for my motivation
heavy on the mind
Once i reawaken at 1 A.M. from my conscious-coma
i ask myself
What good is it?
To be thoughtful
Yet have no action
What good is it?
Yet refuse your own inclination for renovation
What good is it?
To be dramatic
Yet have no one at your performance
I do understand what it means to ‘be’
Watching Tuesday suns burn in loops of ongoing weeks
- lacking peaks -
As I continue to lay under clothes line
Wrapped in a melody of melancholy
But I do not understand what it means to be ‘me’
My mind feels as a lemon candy might,
sour at first bite -
hollow on the inside, then gone
Without ever truly knowing what it tastes like.
I am walking.
Everything is normal.
I am drifting.
What is happening?
I am real, I am a real person, in real life.
The elastic band snaps against my wrist,
Already slightly bruised.
My breathing quickens.
I need a mirror.
All I see is a strange creature,
What is this thing?
Where am I?
This is not me.
I can't look anymore.
Drifting, drifting on autopilot,
Watching my life from a TV screen.
I don't fully realize what happened
Until it is over.
I get ****** back in
From thinking about it.
The endless, confusing, scary cycle
I latch on memories.
This is probably the reason I have derealization.
I admire the past and it’s events; although, they have to be events that are different and not usual for my daily routine.
It could be from Yesterday or 3 years ago.
I start thinking about that event for along time.
If I am alone I will start sobbing.
I have no reason why I do this, but I do this.
Although, when I am in that event in the present I don’t consume the event all. Though when it’s the next day in the shower (can be anywhere )I start consuming the event and my emotions.
Written May 29, 2018 at 9:16 AM