#existensial - Hello Poetry

On weekends, I usually indulge in mundane pastimes in which life duties have no bearing. Going on leisurely walks, watching films, or making acquaintances. Ah, the art of living! On most weekdays, however, I often find myself drowning in murky and troubled waters. Where expectations and obligations gather in a swarm, taking on sharklike features Striking after telltale signs of surrender. Leaving trails of existential horrors in their wake. What would it take to flee and veer off the current course? I’d then sit and ponder. To chase after rosy-deemed dreams made entirely of garments, needles, and thread. Confiding in parents amidst the chaos is also a proven futile effort because — ‘You’d outgrow your fleeting obsessions,’ is what they always confidently mutter. Opening room for more doubt and despair to barge in with a loud clatter. But I learned to hide my biting resentment underneath layers of feigned indifference. Mastered the craft of walking in confident strides and etching on saccharine smiles. Because what good comes from performing a Shakespearean tragedy before prying eyes? However, when the game of play-pretend becomes taxing, and patience starts wearing thin I seek refuge in my bedroom vicinity, where I freely entertain the blood-spattered what-if musings.

0

Sep 21, 2024

Sep 21, 2024 at 8:23 PM UTC

OumaRh

Woolly musings

On weekends, I usually indulge in mundane pastimes in which life duties have no bearing. Going on leisurely walks, watching films, or making acquaintances. Ah, the art of living! On most weekdays, however, I often find myself drowning in murky and troubled waters. Where expectations and obligations gather in a swarm, taking on sharklike features Striking after telltale signs of surrender. Leaving trails of existential horrors in their wake. What would it take to flee and veer off the current course? I’d then sit and ponder. To chase after rosy-deemed dreams made entirely of garments, needles, and thread. Confiding in parents amidst the chaos is also a proven futile effort because — ‘You’d outgrow your fleeting obsessions,’ is what they always confidently mutter. Opening room for more doubt and despair to barge in with a loud clatter. But I learned to hide my biting resentment underneath layers of feigned indifference. Mastered the craft of walking in confident strides and etching on saccharine smiles. Because what good comes from performing a Shakespearean tragedy before prying eyes? However, when the game of play-pretend becomes taxing, and patience starts wearing thin I seek refuge in my bedroom vicinity, where I freely entertain the blood-spattered what-if musings.

15

milk is just grass stupid questions what's music? *** is weird there must be more to life spider can i brush your teeth? i'd smile for you even though you don't deserve it

0

Aug 11, 2020

Aug 11, 2020 at 1:02 PM UTC

Annasus

song name ideas

milk is just grass stupid questions what's music? *** is weird there must be more to life spider can i brush your teeth? i'd smile for you even though you don't deserve it

9

tick, tock. tick, tock. hmm. I want pizza. tick, tock. tick, tock. I think I'm going to draw today. Yes, I'll do this. tick, tock. tick, tock. oh no tick, wait tock. i suddenly remember tick, i suddenly remember that life has no meaning tock. i suddenly remember that we're micro-microscopic tickk, microscopic in this universe, toock. this universe we know nothing about, and, oh, tttick, oh, i'm losing sight of who i am and where i am and why anything in this world matters and oh ti-tock. i dont know why my hands are shaking when i dont have a reason to shake them i dont know why i ask myself these questions when i dont have a reason to ask them i dont know why i write this when i dont have a reason to write them and i tick? dont know why i try when i dont have a reason to try and i dont know why i dont try when theres every reason to try but is there really and t...tock. what is a reason but something i myself conjure up out of little things do these little things really matter what is the quest for life other than a quest to release more happiness chemicals in our brains holding us away from the drug and t-t-t-t-t-t-tick! why do i live when theres no reason to live but why should i die when theres no reason to die and why do i lie to myself on a regular basis when theres no reason to hide myself from the truth but is tatock it really the truth or is it a lie ive lied to myself so long i cant remember because the only person who believes my lies tick is myself tock oh. the pizza is done! tick, tock. tick, tock. that's nice. tick, tock. tick, tock. i might make pizza again sometime tick, tock. tick, tock.

0

Jan 2, 2018

Jan 2, 2018 at 3:53 AM UTC

StrangeTimesForStrangerPeople

Pizza

tick, tock. tick, tock. hmm. I want pizza. tick, tock. tick, tock. I think I'm going to draw today. Yes, I'll do this. tick, tock. tick, tock. oh no tick, wait tock. i suddenly remember tick, i suddenly remember that life has no meaning tock. i suddenly remember that we're micro-microscopic tickk, microscopic in this universe, toock. this universe we know nothing about, and, oh, tttick, oh, i'm losing sight of who i am and where i am and why anything in this world matters and oh ti-tock. i dont know why my hands are shaking when i dont have a reason to shake them i dont know why i ask myself these questions when i dont have a reason to ask them i dont know why i write this when i dont have a reason to write them and i tick? dont know why i try when i dont have a reason to try and i dont know why i dont try when theres every reason to try but is there really and t...tock. what is a reason but something i myself conjure up out of little things do these little things really matter what is the quest for life other than a quest to release more happiness chemicals in our brains holding us away from the drug and t-t-t-t-t-t-tick! why do i live when theres no reason to live but why should i die when theres no reason to die and why do i lie to myself on a regular basis when theres no reason to hide myself from the truth but is tatock it really the truth or is it a lie ive lied to myself so long i cant remember because the only person who believes my lies tick is myself tock oh. the pizza is done! tick, tock. tick, tock. that's nice. tick, tock. tick, tock. i might make pizza again sometime tick, tock. tick, tock.

39

‘to die is different from what anyone supposed, and luckier’ i think about death everyday. frightened by it, intrigued by it i cannot escape it. i have seen what it can do, an endless hunt after anything that lives. constantly wondering when will i be marked? when will i be hunted by them. others embrace it. death to them is a blessing. but how can someone see something so frightening something so powerful how could they see it as beautiful? how could they actually want that? there is so much to life-- yet so much more to death. it is said that how one dies, shows how one lived. and that those who run from death stood still in life. what will my death say about me? what will it say about how i wasted my life with pools of sparkling tears and butterflies that once sat in my stomach pouring out of my mouth? would people know that i stood still? i think about death every single day that i live. every day that will pass every second every minute every year. every tear. every breath. every sight. every look. every beat of my heart. every drop of blood coursing through my veins every word i speak every thought i think i will think about death i will run from death. wishing that someday i can embrace the beauty of it. but until then, (if it ever even comes) it will continue to be run run run chase chase chase filled with fear and anxiety waiting for them as they lurk in the shadows of life watching, perhaps laughing at my fear of them at my racing thoughts of when why and how

0

May 30, 2017

May 30, 2017 at 7:09 PM UTC

drac0nia

death

‘to die is different from what anyone supposed, and luckier’ i think about death everyday. frightened by it, intrigued by it i cannot escape it. i have seen what it can do, an endless hunt after anything that lives. constantly wondering when will i be marked? when will i be hunted by them. others embrace it. death to them is a blessing. but how can someone see something so frightening something so powerful how could they see it as beautiful? how could they actually want that? there is so much to life-- yet so much more to death. it is said that how one dies, shows how one lived. and that those who run from death stood still in life. what will my death say about me? what will it say about how i wasted my life with pools of sparkling tears and butterflies that once sat in my stomach pouring out of my mouth? would people know that i stood still? i think about death every single day that i live. every day that will pass every second every minute every year. every tear. every breath. every sight. every look. every beat of my heart. every drop of blood coursing through my veins every word i speak every thought i think i will think about death i will run from death. wishing that someday i can embrace the beauty of it. but until then, (if it ever even comes) it will continue to be run run run chase chase chase filled with fear and anxiety waiting for them as they lurk in the shadows of life watching, perhaps laughing at my fear of them at my racing thoughts of when why and how

66