#inactivity
Inactivity online,
Whilst it may be somewhat sad,
(For followers at least)
Means activity in life,
Which is surely a good thing.
Feb 5, 2018
Feb 5, 2018 at 11:00 PM UTC
We meet here again.
In a day of nothing and nowhere, I have remained here all day, yet now you appear.
The angry mob coalescing in my head, asking how I have wasted the day, chastising me, a child who doesn't know any better.
But I do know better, we have had this argument before you and I, perhaps it was years, perhaps just weeks. I'm 21 now and my mind is still as vicious as it was when I was 18. Will I have these thoughts when I'm 60? Are we always unwilling roommates to an insatiable in-complacency? What do I gain from the constant chatter, the angry noise, the self hate. Because if it had something to offer I feel by now it would have happened. Instead I carry you, my back sore and legs weak, I climb mountains and valleys knowing I will be attacked again each night. Is that life? Is it all just contradiction constantly fighting itself like a snake biting its own tail? Is this the hard truth that everyone seems too scared to speak, the one we sweep under the rug through alcohol and drug abuse, just trying to get a soundless night? See the more I think about it the more confused I become. Without this duality, this mind who points out my failings while offering no help. Would I be complacent, would compliantly work? Since I turned 18 I've been in a constant state of worry, worry about my future, about my place in the world, about what the old man at the bus stop is thinking when he looks at me. It's a pervasive worry that seeps in and poisons any fresh water I try to drink, where I find good times and joy it is the stranger in the corner reminding me I'm not safe. And I wonder how life would be without it, see I think of it as a curse, as the devil on my back but where would I be without it? Would I be happy to lay where I lay now as I write? This same spot I've found myself nearly every night, would I be happy to sink into the floor boards of my home and exist for the rest of my days? I don't know, I don't know if this dread, this anger, this hateful mind. Is the only thing saving me from painting myself into the same four walls that have cages me for the 21 years of existence I possess. But what do I know, this is just another aimless thought that goes nowhere but digs deep into the pit of my stomach, instilling that existential fear inside of me that I mentioned. Another day wasted, you should remember that.
Aug 21, 2017
Aug 21, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
Am I losing hold?
In a hurricane thought storm
Little deaths on the television
Remind me of my inactions
Said I’d even myself
Out, after giving into self
Doubt. Unstable, leaning toward self
Harm, while the world tumbles itself
Round
Bitter at my own lack
Feel the fire dying in my breath
While the world
Burns and breaks and blisters in a growing wreck
Did my stutter break another heart?
Did my whisper **** that child?
Too quiet for him to hear the reason
I searched for myself, at sixteen
Is every stilted thought, wasted potential / opportunity
To better myself, better the world,
And every person I'll ever meet?
I will not let
Hesitation
Separate
Soul from body
Ever again
I am not lifeless
I am not cruel
I will not be a bystander
I swear
I am not lifeless
I am not cruel
I will not be a bystander
I swear
Ever again
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 5:50 AM UTC
Blanket state
Sun rise, sun set, sun daze
Wide eye glimmer maw
Go swallow the sky whole
And trickle tar . . .
Over Death’s mongrel bone.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 6:30 PM UTC
I tried to be cordial with inactivity
washing it with weeping juice like a pardoned effigy
but the diamonds of determination were so wrapped in mind debris
that I threw away a fortune in potential
The smiles of the platitudes are louder than their laughs
An appeasing of their attitudes I warrant with the gaffes
of an undertaker's underling bestowing upon epitaphs
another deadened and deprived credential
*Seeing days in ways that never did occur to me
Every end a mending by default, a sour recipe
for compromise eroding in a rusty *** of empathy*
The dentist rubbed his fingers when he saw my gritted teeth
No sermon on the mount from me, more a mumble on the heath
My incisor is a tack that would support a giant's wreath
Thorns of novocaine will numb my Christmas wish
For the sake of universal order I will freeze a yawn
Mostly harmless said a hitchhiker of Earth so I can spawn
a batch of clones to live on hold where all the battle lines are drawn
I'll zip up and in the universal order I'll languish
*Seeing nights in ways that never did occur to me
Every satellite a telecast of fault, a sour recipe
for sleeping juice to boil over in Big Dipper's empathy*
Where's a pound of flesh when needed? I've grown tired of these ribs
On the grill of soggy marrow, hungry haunts will have first dibs
Call on William Blake to send the weepers to their cribs
Wishful thinking I'll preserve beneath the floorboards
With a hand in nothing new and an incisor in the usual
intestine chains surround my motivation's hot pursual
Don't read too much into my implied acceptance of a dual
with a messenger of fact's implicit hoards
*Seeing days in ways that never did occur to me
Every end a mending by default, a sour recipe
for compromise eroding in an empty *** of sympathy*
Sound the bugle for my bed is made, I'm rested for detention
Solitaire I'll play in my confinement for the crime of sought attention
I revolted the philosophers in plugging my intention
I would not concede that lab rats had it worse
The satellites are full and bright, the shadows walk on lakes tonight
I'll dream of sleep but eyes will play me in my bedroom's voided sight
Lay with me and sigh and the elastic laws of nature might
halt the quivering continuum of fate's forsaken course
*Seeing nights in ways that never did occur to me
Every channel plays the same old cooking show's ensoured recipe
Compromise a minor seasoning in liver-flavoured empathy*
04 15 14
Apr 22, 2014
Apr 22, 2014 at 1:33 PM UTC