"dissociating" poems
I do not see space travel
as an evolutionary event
I look at it as an excess
of dissociative disorder
colonialism and the making
of whiteness
whiteness
justifying the guilt
by searching
and searching
somewhere else
not somewhere better
just somewhere else
there is nothing better
than how we evolved
are place within experience
all that surrounds
us is intimately woven with
our sheer experience
that has evolved
without the possibility
of memory
or redundancy
or even a pattern or repetition
to desire somewhere else
is to leave the best
most evolved experience
of being human
organic intelligence
artificial intelligence
has patterns that are not evolution
or the experience there of
they are patterns that are also
of this desire to be some where else
where ever it may be a space
or an entity
an other
counter-transferance
aliens
colonization
product of whiteness
excess
the profit of colonization
dissociative disorder
from the experience of being human
if you teach people that evolution
is something related to a process
that is merely the documentation
of the desire to be somewhere or something else
slavery is a combination of somewhere else and something else
it is like aliens
inherently under control
of a powerful military
actually the alien extracted from
their home
all mighty whiteness
is the most powerful
dissociative power
evolution did indeed give us the possibility to dissociate
but is was designed for empathy
not as a tool to be somewhere
or something else
the experience of
the dissociative human
declaring whiteness
has other opportunity
but to experience slavery
since it is a dissociation
it is delusional
and although the human
dissociating may not be within
the structure of slavery they conceive
they are without
the original
experience
I notice them
organic intelligence resumes
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 10:23 PM UTC
You tried to pull a gun on me.
I just pulled mine faster
But what you don't know is
Three days later
I put my gun to my head.
I couldn't live with the fact
That I almost pulled the trigger on you
That I was ready to stop your threat.
What you don't know is one month later
I still had nightmares
That I overdosed on pills
Hoping to never wake up.
Six months later
I still see your face
I still think of the what ifs
One year later
I still wake up screaming
Fighting your invisible threat.
One year and six months later
You voice still haunts me.
You were eager to **** be because I wore a badge and gun.
My coworkers ***** me.
Two against me.
What you two didnt see
The detectives interrogated me.
Told me I asked for it
I should have fought back
One day later the detective picks me up
I tried over dosing minutes before they came
They noticed the cuts but didn't notice
That I was falling fast
I couldn't keep my eyes open.
My speech was slurring
I walked like i was drunk
I made it through the **** kit
I got home and slept for three days straight
One month later i quit my job.
My body couldn't handle the stress
I kept dissociating.
Six months later
I still couldn't have ***
I started learning jujitsu
I had bought a gun
One year later
I was more confident
But i still feared ***
I feared men
I still had nightmares
Two years later
I'm still managing to struggle
I still hear your voices
Still see your faces
Still feel you in my dreams
Two years and six months later
I'm more confident.
I still have difficulty with men.
But now I am well on my way to be a police officer
An EMT
I can't let you win!
Ever!
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
right now
sacrifice is fueling opportunity
an opportunity to breathe
with an uninterrupted purpose
the corruption of our native soul
stop nourishing it
by constructing whiteness
sacrificing ethnicity
for the temporal indulgence
adrenaline *****
torturing
intensity of dissociation
hallucinating whiteness
the worst drug ever manufactured
forced upon our children
intricate delicate
vulnerable violence
tripping
stumbling
dissociating from an eternity
of survival of the most cooperative
deterring
forgetting
intoxicating
for a moment
momentum of ******
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 5:37 PM UTC
Oh man oh man you should have seen him
I said whiteness is a mental illness
a dissociative disorder
dissociating from being human to construct something
constantly
never finished
never human until it stops
his head started to shake
then spin around like an angry owl
people were scared
the police stopped traffic
a priest came for the exorcism
the man made out the words
“I…no…you can’t just group everyone together like that”
see what I mean
thats dissociative behavior
whiteness is the grouping of humans
it is not an ethnicity
like the humans are actually made of
that it tries to possess
It needs to stop
It has had impunity due to legal dissociation
Whiteness was invented
to create skin color based slavery
for profit
for the exploitation of being human
unless you are trying to create slavery
whiteness is a mental illness
needs treatment immediately and those
that whiteness traumatizes by dissociation
also need impunity and protection from
a genocidal maniac called whiteness
narcissistic
smash its mirror
to treat whiteness as a mental illness
and to treat it
is overly compassionate
considering it is actually criminal
the mans head stopped spinning
he came back and said calmly
“Thank you. You are right."
Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 1:28 PM UTC
As I walk through the park, I can feel myself slip away.
The eyes go numb.
The brain goes high functioning but super rational.
My skin doesn't fit anymore,
Like a suit that never got tailored properly.
The doctor calls it Dissociating.
I see that shopping cart man.
The soap from his last shower has long since washed away.
His skin is the cracked, brown leather of a bull whip and his voice rings
out like an Indiana Jones anthem.
He speaks in parables and nonsensical phrases.
I wonder if he is me.
Or am I him?
Walking through the park, watching him, I see no recognition of this
world in his eyes, and wonder what he's living in.
Maybe his entire life is a delusion and he sees his life through my eyes.
Is what I've been seeing and living what he sees and lives?
Will I wake up one day, and look around and realize I'm in this park?
I've always been here.
I told the Doctor I don't think so.
I don't think I'm actually Dissociative.
I just often argue the actuality of my own existence with myself.
Sep 10, 2016
Sep 10, 2016 at 1:53 AM UTC
did you take your medicine this morning?
we noticed you haven't come out of your room all day. yes, the appointment is the 29th.
you didn't write down the homework. what homework?
you can't turn it in now.
if i help myself, i might lose you
you're a talented writer, i saw that from early on
but as a reader, it's impossible to like the narrator
he's sort of an immature ****
...yes?
the sound of an entry plug fills your senses
lcl
the primordial ooze
hair should be floating but nothing changes
nothing at all
did they really think this through?
dissociating
is an interesting thing
do you realize
that these lines dont make sense
Sep 17, 2015
Sep 17, 2015 at 9:33 PM UTC
Time is moving
so
slow
I'm dissociating
the danger
I'm in
my
consciousness
is blocking it
from
my
mind
But even though I can't
comprehend
the
enormity
of what's about
to
happen,
I
still
can't seem to
catch
my
breath
It's still
all
I can think about
I don't understand
I don't want this
I'm scared
Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 3:07 PM UTC
I wanted to draw what dissociating felt like
But there still was an empty paper
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 10:26 AM UTC
A striking increase in absorbance of DNA upon denaturation is known as the hyperchromic effect.
The two strands of DNA are bound together mainly by the stacking interactions, hydrogen bonds and hydrophobic effect between the complementary bases.
In their native state, the bases of DNA absorb light in the 260-nm wavelength region.
When the bases become unstacked, the wavelength of maximum absorbance does not change, but the amount absorbed increases by 37%.
A double stranded DNA strand dissociating to two single strands produces a sharp cooperative transition.
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 7:40 AM UTC
can't wake up,
it´s not a dream,
trying to escape it,
with no way out,
just dissociating,
disconnecting from the world,
the feelings,
the thoughts,
from everything,
entering the void,
a simple retreat,
only I am there,
a time out
May 20, 2025
May 20, 2025 at 11:10 AM UTC
Everyone says I have trauma,
But they don’t know a thing.
I always thought I didn’t do things by halves,
But I only do the last end of suffering.
There is no trauma there,
Should I hate to disappoint you?
(I don’t.)
Everyone thinks I have trauma.
And when I feel strong,
Is it ever good enough,
Or too much, too healthy?
Must I be faking,
Or am I just dissociating?
Everyone believes I have trauma.
There is no trauma back there.
Aug 7, 2019
Aug 7, 2019 at 10:20 PM UTC
oh
the seasons have changed again
ten shades darker and climbing
they forgot who I was
who I am
gaining momentum
the whiteness that used to insist
that I am white
is confused
now they are leaning towards
not letting me be white anymore
till next season all over again
but this is the season of darkness
I can see it in their eyes
hear it in their voices
mostly being black in America
has been the epitome
of non violent resistance
in the season of darkness
non violent coping mechanisms
to a violent abuser
an abuser
called law
called psychology
called whiteness
called economy
untreated domestic abuse
whiteness calls honors history
dissociating from the repair work
that the American family must face
ever since I was a little
itsy-bitsy - innocent boy
the thought
the imagination
of being able to take out
a militia of whiteness
with my body alone
if and when they get as worse as they are
always prepared for the worst of whiteness
no matter what you say
cannot fool me
can I be more violent?
better at it
so I can sleep for a little while
dreams like some of the white kids
except lucid
In the season of darkness
I can prove it all wrong
the whiteness
its story
the companies it keeps
I can breathe a whole new world out
and breathe in clarity
in the season of darkness
my afros
my mohawks
mean something different
suddenly
my worth
is being threatened with an officer’s gun
peacefully letting handcuffs on
violently beaten afterward
hand over mouth
face in the cement
should out of socket
sciatic nerve damage forever
put in a cell
for the trauma
to reverberate
and echo
back into itself
in the season of darkness
whiteness was overwhelmed
without fear
domino affected
occupied whiteness
brought it down to its knees
that one percent of whiteness
is enough to get us all killed
America
in the season of darkness
Jul 24, 2016
Jul 24, 2016 at 3:42 PM UTC
I am being split, torn apart.
This is disintegrating, dissolving, dissociating.
I feel too much until I feel nothing at all. The misery and anguish vanish just as the first tear falls.
This is overwhelmed, numb, bipolar.
I starve and then binge. I want control but release it once I get it.
This is grasping, reaching, flailing.
I need to go out and do something, but as soon as I take a step toward the door, I retreat to my bed. I long to taste freedom, and I am the one confining myself.
This is incarceration, entrapment, suffocation.
I am ashes scattered on a raging sea, dead and fragmented and irreparable.
Not even all the king’s men could put her back together again…
May 13, 2013
May 13, 2013 at 9:22 PM UTC
Sometimes I am barely a person.
Just a walking, talking doll, waiting for instruction.
I feel like a faraway dream.
Just waiting for them to give or take my autonomy.
The only time I can feel for myself
is when I'm manic, in panic, screaming for help.
When I'm in this place, it is spiritual.
Death waits patiently, anticipating at my door.
So far from reality, lost in a place of need.
Feed me your attention and pull on my leash.
Jan 22, 2025
Jan 22, 2025 at 1:46 PM UTC
My mind's full of thoughts
I don't want.
Sequences, images of things
I can never have.
It's not about fantasizing about a better life
before you get to sleep.
It's about dissociating from reality
and excessively gritting your teeth.
You want and try to stop
but in a few seconds
you find yourself lost.
I can't remember when did it all begin,
probably way back before I was even a teen.
I want to cut my skin open and get out of my body, leave behind this broken mind.
It smothers me, it takes me to the edge,
it's eating me alive.
I'm losing it. Oh, I'm losing myself.
I don't want a way out, I want to be dead.
As I write this I'm imagining things.
Stop! Someone, rescue me!
I'm losing it.
Can I go crazy? I think I will.
I'll **** myself before it ends me.
I'm losing it.
Apr 13, 2018
Apr 13, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
You found my hills-
ignoring the pleas and appeals.
You rampaged your way into the hidden valley,
while I sat their dissociating - assuming death was my finale.
You scourged through my dips and curves,
as though I should be flattered you came back for thirds.
Imprinting your unwelcomed touch on my mind forever,
the violation of my body will be forgotten never.
Oct 25, 2018
Oct 25, 2018 at 6:25 AM UTC
No child should have to
Look into the face of death
Not even the child within
Can know they're self-prepared
Some shocked stand staring in air
Perhaps the lucky ones
Quickly integrate despair
Some stand strong quickly moving on
Dissociating to get the job done
And now my psyche's on the run
At the sound of breaking bones
And the sight of blood and guts
A hundred years later
The fallout is quite abrupt...
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 8:48 AM UTC
I’ve been told since day one “what you’re doing will leave permanent damage.”
But, I’m stuck neck deep into an addiction I’ve tried but can’t manage.
I know my will to live is tough, but my cravings are tougher.
They say; “the brain needs 8 hours of sleep every night to recover.”
But, I’m up binging for days in a row saying **** it” while overdosing.
I lit another cigarette, nothing hit like being high and chain smoking.
I lose all of my self-control and I take more until I think I'm dying.
Until I’m sick and shivering and there is no point denying.
That I’m delusional and paranoid. It won’t take too long until I'm hallucinating.
Until I can't recognize myself or the world, and I get stuck dissociating.
I stand in front of the bathroom mirror, I meet her eyes and I freeze.
Her skin is gray, with tired eyes. She crumbles and her breathing cease.
Stuck inside a body she can't beat, wanting to get free.
My eyes tear up and my heart stops when I realize she is me.
Jul 8, 2021
Jul 8, 2021 at 11:32 AM UTC
why can't i write anymore?
what have i lost
that once meant everything to me?
don't say it
don't say it's him.
just because he's gone doesn't mean i have to be.
but then again
i always have had a habit of dissociating with
the identities that remind me of suffering.
i wonder if someday, in a few years,
i will dissociate with this identity, this current one
the identity that dreams of scientific discovery
of astrophysics, and neuropsychology
of MIT and professors who think i have talent
and will adopt some other
one that is just as opposite as science was to writing.
i wonder if i'll ever know who i truly am
or if i'll just keep leaving behind
everything that links me to these sleepless, anxious nights
to this pale face, these cold hands, these downcast eyes
to the depression that seems to follow me wherever i go.
i'm so lost
and if i can't even find myself,
who else will?
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 2:33 AM UTC
I don't understand
All the things that I feel
This anger isn't genuine
It's spawned from sadness
From hurt
From pain
I love you undeniably
And it feels like
You dont feel the same
Jun 7, 2018
Jun 7, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
Trauma tried to mold me
Hiding away I developed phobias
Shrinking into myself
He planted the layers of youth with deceit
While I held the truth
Dissociating and unfolding mentally
My clothes, my body felt foreign
His lips tried to instill shame
I'm weary and shy now living with anxiousness
Why did not anyone see this? I often ask why
Blinded and fooled or just ignored?
I want to be secure again and begin to heal
Seize the moment to have control
No longer a hostage in my own mind
Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 1:16 AM UTC
breakfast is the most important meal of the day
which is something i would laugh off
as my stomach would growl in my nutritions class
and i learned to inhale sharply to somehow combat the noise
the noise of my stomach screaming to the world in that backstabbing way
that i am not eating breakfast
nor did i eat much of dinner
nor will i want to be able to stomach anything for lunch
“i’m completely normal”
my eating habits aren’t rapidly fluctuating
i’m not sleeping during completely random times of the day
trying to sleep off my body’s hunger
like i can sleep off frustration
(nutrients are a constant need
they don’t just stop being things you need
because you just don’t want anything
in your body anymore)
you used to want so much
what’s so baffling is that sometimes
hunger can feel like the muffled conversation
riddled with worry
hunger is the knocking on the door
telling you that it wants to come in
and you don’t want it to
but for a reason you know makes no sense
but it makes perfect sense in the moment
when your brain shakes hands with itself
and tells you that eating is for when the work is done
when the reward is deserved
that a need is a want
and needs are intangible things that keep you socially alive
rather than actually
and then you ask yourself
if you, wanting to feel alive
is the problem
when i don’t eat
i am empty
i don’t make ****** functions
because my body cannot function
and when i function,
my body is empty
and to keep my body empty
i do not eat
there is no beauty in feeling hollow
breakfast is the most important meal of the day
which is something i would laugh off
as i could barely stand up in a hot shower
as i could barely utter a conscious word
without overworking my brain
my brain that shakes hands with itself
to communicate with itself
that i do not deserve to eat food
i do not deserve to feel alive
i want eating
to feel normal
i want to put
priority on food
but i cannot bear
to feel present
but i cannot bear
to be present
when i do not
feel present
because i am
not present
i am not
me
Nov 28, 2018
Nov 28, 2018 at 3:17 AM UTC
Air is always crisp, no
matter where I am
Cool air swirls into my lungs
I think, I think and I think
I'd like to shut off this part of me
that over-analyzes
Because I have this feeling
that if I just quiet my mind
I'll experience such profound insight
like never before
It sounds counter intuitive,
But ceasing to verbalize
just may be the gateway to
most of our solutions
When I dream
I go places or do things unfathomable
I use to live quite an unfathomable life
Even though back then I was really depressed
and disassociated
When I look back, it's weird
Because it seems to me like
I should have been having the best times of my life
But really I was just in situations
That looked fun and thrilling
But I was just so perturbed back then
I lived as wildly as Hunter S Thompson back then
Or maybe I was like Jack Kerouac,
On The Road
It sounds fun
But I was just always on the run
Always trying to escape to the point
of escaping my own mind by dissociating
Looking into the mirror and feeling so distant
from the reflected image
Taking dangerous concoctions of alcohol and drugs
And not a moment of my waking life
was their a point where I wasn't high on ****
Making that Mary Jane be my codependent lover
One I couldn't live without
Even with the paranoia and the panic attacks...
Last night I had a dream
that I smoked **** again
And my throat closed up
and I started choking...
In that dream I remember what it was like
Back in my senior year of high school
I can barely remember
It was all just an excruciatingly painful blur
I wake up to my reality,
and although it's not all I want it to be
I couldn't be more grateful
That I'm out of the self sabotage
With a healthier personality
It's weird to think of who I used to be
Because of how much I've changed
I can't believe that was who I used to be
Radically reformed is my identity
It's just really weird, you see
It's beyond human reason
to understand this change
that has happened in me.
Nov 5, 2016
Nov 5, 2016 at 8:16 AM UTC