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Search to fill the void
Mindless streams from tiny screens
So empty it hurts
@LadyRavenhill 2019
Haiku #115
Kayla Gallant Sep 28
Lie across
Train tracks
Without fear
Call it insanity
Yet you stand
Willingly
Hand on chest
Pledging your life
To the men
Who dictate you
mindless sheep
Van Xuan Sep 24
Twisting and turning all night
Staring at the phone
Scrolling up and down aimlessly
While thinking what went wrong
About leaving me behind
In this abandoned world of yours
Bhill Sep 17
My mind is drifting in and out of reality
It's happening so fast that I feel a sort of mortality
Is it wrong to enjoy the drifting
Is it wrong to expect the mortality to last
Is it wrong to want to share my drifted mind with others

Who would want to know that minds can break out
Should I be afraid
Should I prevail in the mindless chatter of mortality

It's distracting....

Brian Hill - # 233
Does your mind go for walks?
Life just turned lifeless
Breath just became breathless
Heart just ended up heartless
Mind just shattered into mindless
Blood just seemed bloodless
Soul just changed soulless
elisabeth May 23
I scroll
Mindless
Spineless
Pictures pass as time does

I know more of my own face
Than I do of my words
Who am I?
Is left unanswered
How do I look?
An exhaustive list
Complaints and room for improvement
Although my mind is a stronger tool
I grapple only with the superficial

But I was programmed this way
To judge others
Pictures
Likes
Trained to respond to the outside
Before exploring within

I hate to imagine what is becoming of us
Saint Audrey Apr 28
Simple life, lived as a vintage television set
Ornate, one of the few luxuries exclusively for the well off
Useless.
Kitschy
A banal dream with pleasures devoid of an iota of venom
In a construct, a forsaken place, a planet without form
A perfect encapsulation, almost a replica
Of status, a microcosm
Head in the clouds.
Soul in the blood and bone
Desperate, claimed slowly by unrepentant chunks of flesh
I see the breeze on the horizon, sweeping through the fields

So I
Wake up

I never expected. It's not something I asked for.
But I rise all the same.
Once more, one more story to add to the pile

And as it turns out, I found the cure
Deep within the growths sprouting, and the sick smell
To rise once more
In the conclusion of it, I was an island to myself, but I felt at peace.
As my boots strike the sand, and my heart sinks a little lower
The pinch doesn't feel quite as real.

I could take some dedication to the facts that remain, as a claimant
Vigor worn to a shaggy pulp, my lungs crumble in a wave of synthetic dust
The scorn faced, the harsh lights shone on me, the blistering heat...
Unforgivable, as any reasonable man might conclude
I absolve no one of anything, but it all slips further from my mind, day in and day out
If I want it too or not.

To be so sure I'm awake...
How crazy am I?
The whole world breathes, exhales, in a layer of grey smoke, that soon condenses into clouds to shade me personally in my inaccessible fantasy.

The whole world's slipping further into those muted, docile gray shades.
A whole symphony of colors for these starved eyes
So hollow now...
Along barren halls, I'll run my fingers, across the faces of dead, rotted saints and take my gratification
In simple motions, drinking in the vibrancy, all the intricacy bleeding through the mock notions of simplicity

It didn't feel real then. I remember it all, in vivid detail
In those few moments, though branched and snaking through the tunnels of my fleshy wiring
I didn't feel anything.

The pinch doesn't feel real anymore
I can touch the sides of the sink.
My fingers, with gentle pressure applied, can sink into my skin
It only seems to matter when I touch it...

I stopped bothering doing it, a long time ago
It slipped from my memory
Claw a bit closer to me
Embrace my malevolent ability
This will help you feel a reality

You feel so safe without wonder
But pine for authenticity
As you rot inundated by false benevolence
You live in such gleaming
It’s insanity

I’ll pluck you from this numbness
By fogging your false sun with a dismal filter
And I’ll *******

I am not what you expected?!
I am not what you wanted?!
I am truth. What you pine for idiot
I am tonic
I will make you feel something real

You’re scared of such a fiend
Only because you smolder in this apathetic medium

I’ll make you uncomfortable
I’ll make you feel like ****
A relief from your dystopian existence
This dissonance will wake you from your slumber

You will gulp from my malice
It will quench your thirst for authenticity
You will feel emotion
You will feel hatred
You will feel bitter sadness
You shall no longer be vestal like your peers

After I deflower you of such “innocence”
You will no longer mime false emotions
You will venerate happiness
You will cherish sympathy
Because you’ve been uncomfortable
And you’ve been in vacuous darkness

You like darkness.
You need it.
It makes the light more dear to you
In fact.
It illustrates your reality with such a fine and tenacious brush
That if it were replaced. You’d be blinded by the blurry falsity it leaves in its absence

For the sake of reformation
Don’t return to ingesting insipid entertainment
Don’t return to experiencing life through media
Digest honest art. Not pretentious art.
Not dull art either
You’ll live much happier

And I won’t have to violate you again my lamb
Induced fixation has engulfed us

Fixation of indoctrinated normality,
and the pursuit of said specification.

Who's, characteristics are repugnant to individuality.

We all believe we are different, but we fallow the same shepherd who has snowed us with such lies.

The hypocrisy of, "average is unique", has been whittled into our minds. We bear this scar for the rest of our lives.

To reject the ideology would be to condemn yourself to purgatory. All previous beliefs and known fact would vanish, you would be alone, adrift in nothingness and ultimate confusion.

However, our distraction caused by our fixation on subjective "normality" has blinded us. We find that we are in a crowd, and are unable to see above the billions of heads.

One thing we can see, is a ginormous stage. From which our indoctrination calls its origin.

The microphone upon the origin blocks self reflection and critical thinking through pushing us toward endless lust for their normality.

A normality of political agenda, social agenda, and cultural agenda all forced upon us through "authority".

Evil is one who questions any teachings that originate from the stage. Suppressed is their voice.

Discourse is hate speech.

But we are unique. But we are also normal because we are unique.

Wait

What a paradox

That's just what we are taught

Now that We've questioned our restraints of self exploration and personal growth. We can begin the beginning.

Free of our chains. What is our purpose now?
Eric Jan 19
Y
O u..

Have
M   Y
Mind

S     S
O O
   O

Mess
Ed..
Up....
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