I've spent an eternity staring at my own reflection Trying to find out exactly what made me get here and I've only ever found out one thing That my life is absolutely pointless but I also have a feeling that if I spend another eternity here I will realize something else entirely
Because I've been having these dreams lately these vivid, disgusting dreams in which I know exactly the answer to the question I ask myself And in these dreams, I don't seem the way I imagine myself to be when I find out the answer When I find out the answer I imagine myself joyful because why else would I spend eternities trying to find out why I'm here if if would not grant me a lifetime of joy?
I seem to be walking quietly around my childhood home looking at my hands as they rot in front of me And I'm walking heavily, you see like I'm being chained to the earth and I would have to spend yet another eternity just walking around my neighborhood
I just keep walking until my feet turns into soil And I turn into soil
I know now why I can't keep searching for something I will never find
Those nights when I inked my skin with words I wanted everyone to hear were the best ones For once I had something to say and I wanted everyone to hear it for once I am kicking over trash cans because the world is loud and I am nothing less than the world and stomping on concrete but avoiding the bugs and flowers because the world is not gentle but I try my best to be an angry kind organized mess Praising the lord in all the wrong ways because the world is up to me and heaven and hell is in my bedroom and a beautiful exorcism where I am stretching my limps for the first time made me realize that God is dead but I am alive
There's a devil in the corner of my room who waits until I fall asleep to kiss my cheek and bid me goodnight. During the day he cannot reach me because he is, as stated previously, a demon, in all its magnificent glory.
But he's not bad, not for me.
I tell him all my secrets, I tell him of all who looked at me with eyes I can't interpret. I'm trying my best here, and I think this four legged creature is the closest I'll come to being loved.
I've been preparing for this my entire life This particular unluckiness in love that seems unavoidable It's been in fairytales I've heard as a kid in the books I've read in songs on the radio in poems in everyone
But no one ever told me that I would be the villain Never once did I relate to the bad guy But here I am and I'm the bad guy
And every time the villain is explained it is said that she is good in her way That she never choose to become the villain But I had the choice I've been good my entire life but today I decided to be bad Tonight I killed the princess and took the prince for myself
There's no poison, only me Me being forced down innocent throats until they bleed their secrets to me
The angel of death once eclipsed our goodbye Embraced you within a golden abyss marked with our glistening eyes I’ve pictured this conversation more times than I testify Yet a chance of it occurring leaves me mortified For there’s a sweet escape in lingering within stolen time Before your demise feels real allows me to bathe in a tempting crime.
Regardless, this hollowed illusion comes to fracture Present now a past but my life plays backwards The gravity of reality cascades upon me Trapped in a realm of denial unable to be set free Although I am the creator of this melancholic fantasy The price of release means a lifetime of apathy
Instead, I extend, and live within a conversed eulogy Attempting final goodbyes laced with ambiguity. - epiphanyofwords
Hymns of chaos are all my vocal chords sang, while the blissful sun approached the morning. All I could feel was ebbing darkness, fading away and carting my hope away with it oh hymns of chaos, sung in sweet harmony ! How your notes blend with the climate of my melancholy!
It's been a while since I visited this app. Alot of activities and happenings prevented this, but I am back! It's nice to be with my colleagues here again.
We all got stories. Stories are life's language; language impacts perception - our own, others, and nations. "Stories dispossess, stories malign, stories empower, stories humanize, stories rob and break dignity, stories repair whats broken..." Single stories are scanty. All stories, stitched together, complete the composition of you. Many stories matter - yours. If your life were a book, what would people read about? We all got stories. Share them. All of them. [they MATTER]
XIII. Making History - Inspired by Chimamanda Adichie's speech, "The Danger of a Single Story." - Originally written/posted: 20181202