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Traveler Sep 16
Learning and evolving
Primitively revolting
Problematic solutions
Ideological institutions

Mergence of shadow
Disassociation of ego
***, ecology, spirituality
Check, check, check

Why am I still broken?
Traveler Tim
zima Sep 11
As she gazed through the reflection
With two static icy soul-*******
sensors absorbing visual information of the presence
My intangible essence of being
Against whispering silences floor
As I ran
Choking on the evening repugnant air
The truth was gagged out from the self-absorbing sky

There is no reason why
There is no reason why
There is no reason why
Breethyr Aug 1
Within my mind are heavy thoughts,
They do not let me feel at ease.
Everything i'd failed to do
Is coming back to haunt me.

Body withered and my mind
Is trapped awaiting for relief -
Heavy duty machines above
Will serve as bridge to a new life for me.

Heavy brain is in the skull,
Drinking blood that flows in veins,
The blood is pumped by a heavy heart -
A heavy heart is all that's left of me.

Heavy heart has been put to rest.
As narcotics put me to sleep i imagine
What future holds for me.

What was it that made me who i had thought i was?
Which parts of self will be put to rest?
After-****** life may just show me the secrets of who I am.
Is life within a machine equivalent to death?

Vivid images i had not seen
Yet imagined like they're real -
The brain is fed through metal tubes
With tar-like liquid that flows within,
The brain is speared by electric spikes -
They cut their way through every part of it.

What are these sings i'm receiving? I can't make sense at all.
The feeling of dread is suppressed by machinery, i don't even feel any pain.
Yet heavy thoughts haven't gone away.
More than ever before i am wondering if a choice i had made was correct -
Eternal existence without a future or hopes and no right to be welcomed by death.
Michael King Jul 27
You are not the cold seed you fear in your nightmares,
not a blind thought, caressing the cloak of the reaper.
As you have gazed at the trees at night, so too
have the creatures in the leaves gazed back at you.

‘We do not worship the dead’ they cried, laughing,
and an echo flows past you, barely heard.

Should you join the ranks of the spirits,
crying out your regret in a vain attempt to be heard?
‘You must rebel against yourself’ the creatures warn,
curious what you will do next.

You search for a soft spot within your own self, but
what is there to feel? The wind, the barrenness?

A searing nova of heat threatens to blind you.
Crackled light, followed by pillars of black static roses.
Nothing left now; nothing left to cling to…
but only if you can reach out, you will find a hand.

Well, a multitude of hands, rising from the ground,
covered in scales and pinions, and red as a crimson sunset.

Voices, screeching from beneath the ground,
telling you unbelievable tales of glory, honour,
asking you to grasp their hands and they would show you;
yes, they would show you the way to their own grave.

‘Then the choice is yours’ the creatures tell you now,
‘live or die. We are only eyes waiting for the sun’.

Choices… always a decision to burden you again,
but this is an easy one if you would look inside your mind.
Live or die, walk or fall, strength or tears. Fear is your enemy
in the end. The running ruin of scattered thoughts

Invest yourself in my sneer, if only for a little while.
Maybe you will fade away,  and truly know the scourge of living.
Wrote this year's ago,  and recently edited it with a friend.  Changed the title and some of the body.
Cattatonicat Jul 2
You wanted me to be tiny like you

The compliments you gave out in the beginning
Dried up and soon nothing I did was enough for you

I went out of my way to help you the first time
After that, you took my help for granted, made me do it over and over again
You acted helpless to guilt me, and the truth is you didn’t want to help yourself
When I tried to stop, you left a hurtful letter, out in the open, very well visible, on the kitchen table
Yes, I know you lied about the fact that you wrote the letter for your eyes only
Yes, I know you wrote the letter to hurt me and manipulate me
That’s when I should have left you, but I was too nice, I was too naive

I did most of the cooking, and you did most of complaining about the food
You started to control the way I dress, you wanted me to dress the way that was acceptable to you
You also didn’t want me to be with my friends

You belittled the work I did to chase my dream
If I work for my dream, I would grow, and you didn’t want that
You needed me to be tiny, so you could control me

I couldn’t let you manipulate me into being tiny like you
I have a dream I can’t possibly achieve if I’m tiny like you
I can’t let that happen
That’s why you are not in my life
silvervi Jun 11
No, I don't know
What love is
At all.

I am wondering
And my soul
Is about to fall

What is love
Why is love
And why are we all?

Are these simply questions of a depressed mind?
But also of one that is trying to find

To live and to feel and to love.
And more honestly than ever.

Searching is my current state.
It's rather stuck, but does vibrate
Uncomfortably under my ribs
Where the deepest of feelings should be

Instead I am mostly inhibiting my head
But I want to learn to change that
My body needs more of my attention
I need to connect
To reconnect I guess.

I noticed there is a big gap
Between my soul, my head, my body..
It is as if I am existing in parts.

Maybe it's true cause energy is divided

I don't really know much
My focus recently has been very shallow
I guess I lost other people's touch
The human connections with fellows

They matter. Society matters.
This is where love meets me
But rarely.

I did experience hate though
In groups.
No body came to save me

But that's over, isn't it?
Or do I still have to learn to trust?

Am I still so influenced by it?
That I'd rather deny myself
Than to accept
That someone might not like
Sth about me instead.

Why is it so bad?
How to get rid of this weird energy.
How to find a way to be finally free.
I am not even begging for materialistic freedom.
I just want to be able to decide
How my life is gonna be
Where I am gonna be
And in each and every moment
What is actually right for me?

I know I overstepped some boundaries
And I will overstep even more
There are boundaries I overstep unwillingly
And there's others that I knowingly ignore.
A human mind reflects...
Daa Rajab May 27
It might be said:

I feel an ache
After passing the verge of a break
And it left a mark.
It left a scar
That paved its path
Deep into my memory,
But it's just the past.
It really does ache.
Tizzop May 26
some birds recently died of a smog overdose
this is not a big deal but activists are raging
last night they destroyed the lion's cage in the zoo
the lions ate all of them but they died with a certainty:

"we stood against the psychological torture of animals"
when the activists took their last breath, fulfilled
as their arms and legs were bitten off, they sobbed,
deeply concerned if the lions could digest human flesh

unselfish souls, good-hearted people; their families miss them
now they are waiting in front of netherworld's entrance
memories are rolling over their retinals, they are scared
fear is flickering, the activists are looking at gigantic doors

did they really do the right thing? dying as early?
when things have become unchangeable, doubt is arising
doubting is one of the cruelest acts of thinking and feeling
doubting leads to an idealization of the self; mirror-addiction

to kiss a shark is dangerous but some doubts will **** you
we may think that we control them – they dominate us
the mobiles of the activists are switched off
relatives and partners are trying to reach them

zoo visitors hear a ringtone coming from the lions
later on, the zookeeper finds an iphone in their feces
but the activists are fine, they died for a purpose
their funerals will be events of glorification

nobody will speak badly about them; nobody will criticize anything
they left babies, toddlers, wives, husbands and relatives behind
but they died for a purpose; they really did and that's what counts
it's over: stars are vomiting, the cemetery god is reading epitaphs
Today is a good day.
I want someone to come and save me.
I wish for someone to come and save me from myself.
I hope that someone comes and saves me. I hope.

Cause I’m my self’s worst enemy.
Cause I can be my own nemesis.
But not my own savior. Not that. That I cannot be.

I cannot be Him. I don’t believe. Don’t know how to.
To be honest I never learned how to do so.
Faith. That’s what’s been missing from my life all along.

Intellectual by nature. A child of science. A lazy philosopher chatting mindlessly endlessly about anything.
A mixture of perverse logic coupled with an over-the-fence sexuality.
That’s who I am. That IS my history. An animal of society. Someone out of control.

Some nights, I lay here waiting God to take my soul as I drift to sleep.
And others I make a mess out of myself and of others through my outrageous behavior.
Never being sensible. Always a step beyond what other people think of me. Surprise! Gotcha.

Things got so messed up for me since the day I was born here. Trauma. Confusion. Questions. Crisis.
Don’t know who I am. Don’t know who I want to be. Don’t know anything.
Who can solve the everlasting mystery of my life if not me?? Exactly. Nobody can and nobody will.

I have no destination or grounding point in life. I’m so lost. Oh God help me!
Don’t know how to put the leftover pieces of my broken self, back together again.
I’m ****** to live a life of misery and a life of mystery. An endless dark meaningless (I’m tempted to say) black hole in my heart surrounded by supernovas and neutron stars.

Who can fix me? Who can put me back together? Who can make me feel whole again?
Cause I don’t know a **** thing. I never knew. Even if my mouth moved a lot in the past.
Now who can save me? Does anybody can? Do you? Huh? I’m talking to you brother!!

“I can and will save you. My child you have no other option but to walk the righteous path once again.
You will see. You will begin to breathe again. You will begin to feel alive once again.
You will at last get to know how it is to be a part of this marvelous universe”

Empty promises! Hollow words! Half-hearted remnants of an old man’s monologue!!
Who are you to speak my destiny? God?? Show yourself! You imbecile!
How do you dare to question the tentacle-like hands that mother fate has put on my predetermined future???

I never was anybody! I am not anybody! I ‘m just nobody and I don’t want to be something more!
My existence gets verified by my low self-esteem. I want nothing more. This is enough for me!
Leave me alone! There’s only one thing I hope though. “I hope that someone finds me and saves me before it’s too late.”
Expressing inner felt senses and ideas.
Bruce Demos Mar 2
Psychodynamic Catalyses commencing in 3... 2... 1...

Trial I:
Subject A's standing still, a perfect vacuous slate-
Oh wait - time: 10 - the twitching has begun
Something's been boiling beneath its skin:
Repressed, internalized emotions
Pleading - please - to leave the mind,
But no! It forgets, ignore the fractured bleeds
Wipes clean the bursting mind anew.

Trial II;
Both Subjects have stumbled in, eyes met,
I reckon just one second left until the first
Wipes grimy doubts from seeping pores
And slathers some on its wincing guest.
Oh yes!
The most perfect Projection of self yet!

Trial III;,
Already introduced - the love pheromones -
And Subject A is completely induced
In love.
Distance, deliberations, and anguished moans
Hearken in the Pyrrhic self-preservation:
Subject A has maimed B in love-hate!
Reaction Formation a huge success.

Trial IV,
Gaslight interrogations have rendered
Subject A blind to all its repercussions,
For now the whole world's wrong if time
Can't prove its Rationalizations right,
No, not right, but fundamental to its very

Trial V
Hourly pedal electric shocks have Displaced
All the color of passion from the Subject's eyes -
Pale white!
And now in pathetic ploy to gain some joy
Leads it to bite, and gnaw, and destroy!

Trial VI.
An injection of liquid memories
Of torment and trauma and rejected
And now the Subject has curled up
And shrunken backwards in time!
A little Regressed, teetering toddler,  
And now a suckling infant safe
By its mothers side.

Trial VII...
Something... unusual has occurred,
But do not fret or pull the funds!
Nothing but a standard deviation from the norm:
Our Subject has taken all its desires and cries
And transformed it into a radiant
Now, this Sublimation of the mind
Has left no pain, no suffering!
The Subject - I regret to inform - is fine.
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