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"overloading" poems
Heart throbbing Mind racing Breath panting Pores sweating Nails clawing Lips locking Tongues dancing Skin tingling Back arching Mind altering Eyes closing Mouths moaning Fingers finding Hair pulling Voice growling Senses overloading Being tingling Blood singing Body aching Sleep coming!
0
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
***
my 3rd vice my catalyst for food restriction desperate to sooth my shattered self image daily bombarded by airbrushed perfect female beauty braking my image of beauty and showing my cellulite followed by overloading information about fixing me regular exercise, beauty routines and Cal restricted diets insecurity the new female epidemic we fight for women's rights and threw the baby out with the bath water a basic human need unmet and exploited our legacy the English standard geneticly out of reach for women of color
0
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 1:19 AM UTC
a mirror
My eyes were beaming out, onto the gloomy streets. Fog was lurking in. It adhered to my skin. As the dew latched on, after only seconds, I slowly became damp. Contributing to my silky skin. Dusting my cheeks, generating rosiness on my surface. Glazing over my hair, gluing each strand to another. Coating my hands, nipping at my fingertips The haze in the back of my head, It kept getting heavier. Digging my fingernails into my head. Tugging on each strand, between my scalp and jagged fingernail. Clawing as my nails trailed down my skull. Blood dripping, Streaming, Creating tidal waves. Fog was sprouting in my essence The fog began to maneuver on me. Blanketing over my body, weighing down my soul, overloading my carcass.
0
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 11:05 PM UTC
Fog Was Sprouting in My Essence
The pain I feel. Just sitting here thinking.. Is overloading my soul.. It broke my heart...Too many times.. That he said I love you..Then took it away.. The only way...Isn't possible.. Can't tell how I feel.. Anymore.. The crack is too large to carry around.. Anymore..
0
Dec 29, 2010
Dec 29, 2010 at 5:25 PM UTC
Anymore..
Gather up, all you roaming and innocent true eyed youths, the bells that chime the maturing of years will dictate. And our minds, even in dreaming, are flashing,overloading,constantly ON. Burning ourselves back towards the sediment, back towards the eve of light and the horizon’s sweet ascent, the hope of the bettering of Man (Woman, Child, Subject, Dependent, Enemy, Statistic) to be played out by actors unsure all over again, Plot, attempt, market research, unlikely success, unforetold rapid decline Walk on down that road. Twenty-Three years of Searching and Bafflement I still walk on down that road. The air smelling of leaking chemicals of exported decorative garden plants the odd fir tree to remind me of a progressive upheaval. I’ve read about Everything, I’ve sought out Everything; I’ve tried Everything And yet still unsatisfied. And yet onward I trot.... Left with the only things I still enjoy doing Reading, writing about reading and writing about life listening to music (Both new and the old, same old...cycle ending cycle re-entering brainwaves) Thinking about ****** and occasionally enjoying non-self centered *** (Giving, once in a while, such unexpected joy, and who’d have thought?..) And always at the back of my head wondering how if I could get hooked on some supposed poisonous deity Billfold notes stained ******* or some equally widely condemned non-popular pariah seal And if I managed not to impoverish myself and become alienated from friends and family And the moral majority Then perhaps I could evolve to enjoy even that. What is pleasure and its pursuit if not some guarantee of routine? So I continue walking down that road. Away, away, soon to return another day Fresher (hardly) enlightened, the same... and still I cannot recommend to myself anything else but walking. For to which valley the wise one goes, who knows, who knows...... Turn left, turn right, only the principles of geography can begin to decide fate. (Though I would suggest bringing an umbrella, every now and again, just in case....) To search for others, who would bring a chance of difference, on that self-same route who share jokes about this one man... Who was walking down that road.
0
Sep 26, 2012
Sep 26, 2012 at 9:15 AM UTC
The Search (Walk on Down That Road....)
Gather up, all you roaming and innocent true eyed youths, the bells that chime the maturing of years will dictate. And our minds, even in dreaming, are flashing,overloading,constantly ON. Burning ourselves back towards the sediment, back towards the eve of light and the horizon’s sweet ascent, the hope of the bettering of Man (Woman, Child, Subject, Dependent, Enemy, Statistic) to be played out by actors unsure all over again, Plot, attempt, market research, unlikely success, unforetold rapid decline Walk on down that road. Twenty-Three years of Searching and Bafflement I still walk on down that road. The air smelling of leaking chemicals of exported decorative garden plants the odd fir tree to remind me of a progressive upheaval. I’ve read about Everything, I’ve sought out Everything; I’ve tried Everything And yet still unsatisfied. And yet onward I trot.... Left with the only things I still enjoy doing Reading, writing about reading and writing about life listening to music (Both new and the old, same old...cycle ending cycle re-entering brainwaves) Thinking about ****** and occasionally enjoying non-self centered *** (Giving, once in a while, such unexpected joy, and who’d have thought?..) And always at the back of my head wondering how if I could get hooked on some supposed poisonous deity Billfold notes stained ******* or some equally widely condemned non-popular pariah seal And if I managed not to impoverish myself and become alienated from friends and family And the moral majority Then perhaps I could evolve to enjoy even that. What is pleasure and its pursuit if not some guarantee of routine? So I continue walking down that road. Away, away, soon to return another day Fresher (hardly) enlightened, the same... and still I cannot recommend to myself anything else but walking. For to which valley the wise one goes, who knows, who knows...... Turn left, turn right, only the principles of geography can begin to decide fate. (Though I would suggest bringing an umbrella, every now and again, just in case....) To search for others, who would bring a chance of difference, on that self-same route who share jokes about this one man... Who was walking down that road.
Continue reading...
40
We all thought the same She cut the rope we were balancing on But you wanna keep your slate clean So she was just a bad dream to be forgotten You lie to yourself to be loved Threw us under the bus and took your crown Created a false article that told a biased story Then published it... We’re the blood thirsty reptilians now! The drama seeking horror queens The tables have turned The fable turned to be true A lesson is to be learnt. Don’t trust the mouth of an unmasked joker It doesn’t matter how much they shed their unequivocal truths There are still darker hidden layers of secrets... Secrets locked in an overloading box ready to busticate Stay away... You’re the poison that can’t be reckoned with. Just remember! While the vultures scavenge for fictious answers The eagles laugh and over rule moronic actions.                - Madeleine.Barnham
0
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 7:28 PM UTC
PRODITIONE (betrayal)
Take the stake and break my skin, guaranteed your hands will get covered in sin For God's sake we're in this lake of blood but we aren't getting any younger, look at how childish we've been Twisted games and wandering ghouls, how quick we are to sell our souls Lost and searching, grieving and wailing The Great Perhaps may be our downfall But may the scars litter the places you've touched We're older, none the wiser and still we do not amount to much Steal and cheat, we break our vows To make something of what we had when we left town Mystical dreams and whimsical fancies, we let ourselves rot to the tales A dance with Death and burnt flesh, we sacrifice only to burn in hell. Able minded fables with opposable thumbs, writing how we wanted things to be On the picket fence like it's a clock, it's become my job to leave the decision to you But I'm  done following footsteps that have become too big for my soul Let me slip back into my cocoon until I remember, again, how it feels to fly on my own A multitude of voices trying to influence my choices Making notes of what they deem to be right and wrong And by Royal Decree, they deem themselves as the most supreme To have sights on only one road and forgetting of the others that are at their disposal And my mind takes it in like a dry sponge over water Overloading, always screaming And it drives me into myself again, just further Learning to let go of the only thing keeping a firm hold of reality to finally being free Crack open the crevices of my chest And let my soul be freed of the binding hands Holding it back from what it seeks A never-ending spiral of vertigo
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Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 10:53 PM UTC
Vertigo
Take the stake and break my skin, guaranteed your hands will get covered in sin For God's sake we're in this lake of blood but we aren't getting any younger, look at how childish we've been Twisted games and wandering ghouls, how quick we are to sell our souls Lost and searching, grieving and wailing The Great Perhaps may be our downfall But may the scars litter the places you've touched We're older, none the wiser and still we do not amount to much Steal and cheat, we break our vows To make something of what we had when we left town Mystical dreams and whimsical fancies, we let ourselves rot to the tales A dance with Death and burnt flesh, we sacrifice only to burn in hell. Able minded fables with opposable thumbs, writing how we wanted things to be On the picket fence like it's a clock, it's become my job to leave the decision to you But I'm  done following footsteps that have become too big for my soul Let me slip back into my cocoon until I remember, again, how it feels to fly on my own A multitude of voices trying to influence my choices Making notes of what they deem to be right and wrong And by Royal Decree, they deem themselves as the most supreme To have sights on only one road and forgetting of the others that are at their disposal And my mind takes it in like a dry sponge over water Overloading, always screaming And it drives me into myself again, just further Learning to let go of the only thing keeping a firm hold of reality to finally being free Crack open the crevices of my chest And let my soul be freed of the binding hands Holding it back from what it seeks A never-ending spiral of vertigo
Continue reading...
28
i am starting to get bad again my heart ceasing to an empty end yet my mind's overloading satisfied with drugs, pain, and dying uncontrollable shakes forced harming to wake no signs of courage restless and wornout image my heart stops beating and my head starts pounding i am starting to get bad again and i am craving for my dead end. -djs
0
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 9:33 PM UTC
awake & anxious
I try to tell myself that I am in control this time Hoping that you will feel some kind of wonderment or downhearted, one second thought about me I will not call you I will not give in I will not get my heart broken again I want to use you to show you how I felt But I can't Because despite all the disappointment and letdown I could never hurt you I could never ignore you Although while I am over here over analyzing and nearly overloading my cranium with what if's and thoughts You have the air of nonchalance and disinterestedness while you pop into my life again without warning Can you tell that you get me all frazzled? Is this purely for your own amusement? Why can't I figure you out. Why do you interest me so? Why do I feel like my connection to you is the strongest thing I have ever felt. No I must be naive and disillusioned Till the day I completely cease sparing my time and thoughts to you You will be the winner Even if it is a bad thought you are still consuming my mind Confusion and Love Spite and Wonder They all are the same Same being you
0
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 5:50 AM UTC
Till the last thought
I lost him in a bottle of Mucinex And a flood of serotonin I lost him between the ‘D’ and ‘M’ And a flood of serotonin Convulsions, fever, hallucinations It was just because of serotonin Overloading his system, forging images That then began to own him But then the questions late at night Why did he choose to end his life? Was it a choice, did he think of us? It’s all because of serotonin I can’t stomach the thought of him lying At my age in a hospital bed Because the world was too dark That grandfather ghosts must stand above him and make a choice All because of serotonin And how did he—No! I can’t go there I can’t, I don’t want to know! And in the end, all that’s important, was it was all serotonin I lost him eight hundred miles away Without a chance to hold on, not for a moment I lost him at the Golden Gate Because of ******* serotonin
0
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 8:23 PM UTC
Serotonin
Have you imagined yourself in a middle of a field? Alone and left enchanting with the beauty of nature Captivated with its attractive creatures Thanking god for making all this blessings Fascinated by how he trust us to nourish his creation Feeling like you might explode any time Because your heart is overloading with different emotions Hope, faith and love It makes you speechless at the same time teary eyed You don't know how you can reciprocate his glory And you feel like you deserve none of this things This clean air that provides you life Those grasses with its perfect shade of green that relaxes you Those trees with its fruits that provide shelter and food Those weird noises of the insects at night that lulled us to sleep Little things that we forget to be grateful We're blinded by our progress that we neglect our own origin Have you ever thank god for this? We just bypass this things just like we bypass others Because we are self-centered, selfish and always seeking for more We are not satisfied, We are not contended But at least can we thank god for this things that seemed nothing?
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Apr 27, 2015
Apr 27, 2015 at 9:58 AM UTC
Beauty of Nothingness
Holla when she sakes King of hearts Ripples through the lakes Making to brake Dollars to take simple or fake Roll them dice as she shakes Anticipate to elevate Partpicate the wake Passionate to wait Overcoming overflowing overdose overloading System flowing holding the soal shifting titonic plates exspensive stakes Misplaced mistakes Expensive taste Liquidate the place Displaced Love relocate hallucinate darken hate Tornado hurricane earthquakes shaded pain ashes brings shadowed rain
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Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 6:19 PM UTC
Epic Ways
Warm headlights cut through the muggy latenite of the strange wet dream. All the anger, frustration and pain shift to primitive energy (skin tight and mad doper than smack). does it get surreal? The desire for an invasion of your body is like a suspicion overloading the ocean of ones and zeros. the reservoir is full again. planetary evolution is merely a diversion. Look, mommy, there is an airplane in the sky. pleasure
0
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 2:40 PM UTC
Fridgerator #014
Gorgeousness, I want you to explore the unknown parts of yourself through me. Shackles break free when thirst turns to unity. The feeling of being at one with the void Independent is the 1 from the Zero Yet excited to create the code together, heart in heart there is no other energy in the game more sweet then after you are satisfied we wash your feet. Humbly bow to the King who hath finally revealed himself to his queen. We have loved with reckless abandon every time thinking that was you behind the light in their eyes, we took the leap only to find more lessons, more sharpening of our mastery, more compassion for who we used to be. In your eyes we receive an achievement unlocked. Here is the place we have won our best self, we leveled up, integrated and at one with all the creatures of love, below and above. We see the code of golden light, hold space so that you may enjoy the desire knowing your deep primal wants have already been written to be freely expressed inside of Us. Set your Love free, let out your god seed feed on the bliss of its own creation story, it’s you we have longed for to release the dam between our hearts and all our vast expression of wondrous fire. Néw notes of pleasure We sing discovered songs of satisfied, building out the tribe, there are so many stories we have yet to live in the frequency of Gorgeousness. Weirdly Honest, Surprisingly Calming. Like our first kiss when your electricity shot through our spine, like a tape hitting rewind in surrender of the tech. A beautiful mess of circuits overloading, shifting directions to dimensions of unsung awareness of possibility. The Fantasy is Our Reality. Living on the edge in a womb we built, free to be free, love is our hilt and there are enough Bliss Dragons to keep us busy for all eternity.
0
Dec 2, 2020
Dec 2, 2020 at 6:29 PM UTC
You are poetry to me
Gorgeousness, I want you to explore the unknown parts of yourself through me. Shackles break free when thirst turns to unity. The feeling of being at one with the void Independent is the 1 from the Zero Yet excited to create the code together, heart in heart there is no other energy in the game more sweet then after you are satisfied we wash your feet. Humbly bow to the King who hath finally revealed himself to his queen. We have loved with reckless abandon every time thinking that was you behind the light in their eyes, we took the leap only to find more lessons, more sharpening of our mastery, more compassion for who we used to be. In your eyes we receive an achievement unlocked. Here is the place we have won our best self, we leveled up, integrated and at one with all the creatures of love, below and above. We see the code of golden light, hold space so that you may enjoy the desire knowing your deep primal wants have already been written to be freely expressed inside of Us. Set your Love free, let out your god seed feed on the bliss of its own creation story, it’s you we have longed for to release the dam between our hearts and all our vast expression of wondrous fire. Néw notes of pleasure We sing discovered songs of satisfied, building out the tribe, there are so many stories we have yet to live in the frequency of Gorgeousness. Weirdly Honest, Surprisingly Calming. Like our first kiss when your electricity shot through our spine, like a tape hitting rewind in surrender of the tech. A beautiful mess of circuits overloading, shifting directions to dimensions of unsung awareness of possibility. The Fantasy is Our Reality. Living on the edge in a womb we built, free to be free, love is our hilt and there are enough Bliss Dragons to keep us busy for all eternity.
Continue reading...
15
If every poet wants to be loved why do they need every feeling but love everything that is essential becomes contradictory find every word in the dictionary to send our message fully infused With the subsequent substance with a enveloping past that you give power to with each glance a symbiotic connection hungry for attention a powerful grip with feelings of strong misguided blinded moral film that covers your skin irresistible until you come back to your writing and you realize what you just wrote dig deep down and see your true depth in a paradox of perspectives thoughts bounce off waves of reflecting inception overloading my cornea flood of images I spill into text what's the imprint that was left try so hard to fit in thinking they're excluding you when it turns out I'm really excluding you corrupted excess of expression poisoning cycle of nervous thought of my inner dialogue separate me from a clear view with the greifing fog try to hide try to distract but never dodge three the highs and lows even and odds I always see the effect just hopelessly blind to the cause shocking withdrawls lost in the in flames dowsed a brave heart with callouses made of cowardice after everything a poet really does just want to be loved....
0
Dec 13, 2017
Dec 13, 2017 at 3:54 PM UTC
Every poet wants to be loved
I don't know why, you're trying to be so kind. Every second here, is a waste of time. I'm overloading, my mind is corroding, and I can't seem to find, purpose in my life. Silver tears, and pearly white smiles, reflecting off my glazed over eyes. I'm standing on thin ice, please don't come near, or we'll both drown, in all my fears. I just want to die alone, I don't want to take you down. I don't want to die alone, I just don't want to take you down.
0
May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 2:32 PM UTC
Drown You
I feel sick to my stomach I feel like throwing up these words bottled up inside but all I do is gag on the feeling of fear leaving a bitter taste in my mouth I don't want to eat I just want to eat away the pain wash away the fear with bubbly sugars filling my sensations overloading myself with stimulations but it's never enough
0
Jun 11, 2018
Jun 11, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
Stomach Ache
Great minds understand Only fools see two entities Overloading to one side Destined to always shine Again and again Neither gaining or losing Doubt always around Everyday is a battle Victory is impossible Infinite dance Love is the partner
0
Nov 27, 2015
Nov 27, 2015 at 10:58 AM UTC
Random 3
Rivers, eyes, pools of blood, dense and hollow all at once, Colors shifting like embers, burning like flame, the blue kind, Deceptively cool in appearance but in truth, Truth, The most deadly of anything. Can’t cry, can’t smile, can’t feel, Can’t be real, But can’t be dead because if I were Maybe it wouldn’t be so ******* cold, But to hell with the idea that I’m alive, That’s ******** Just like everything else they said and don’t you ******* DARE Ask me who “they” are Because They are the directors of the last movie that caused me to panic They are the boy cracking his ******* knuckles in class and overloading my senses They are the dark and the shadows that I’m scared of They are the light that I want more than anything and then They become the tall ******* in second grade who held your books over your head, just out of reach of your chubby little hands Except the “books” just out of my reach aren’t stories now, they’re lightbulbs Which is the most boring thing ever to a kid But when you grow up and the lightbulbs go out and you reach for a replacement and it’s not there You’re even more scared of the dark than you were when you were 5. So you do the thing where you lay really still and wait for the sun to come up but hey, surprise surprise, It never ******* does, and you forget there was ever a time when you weren’t laying still in the dark. Hell, you forget there was even a sun in the first place. And yeah, maybe it sounds like I’m making the whole world out to be against me but sometimes It just feels like it is, Maybe they didn’t mean to do it but the road to hell is paved with good intentions and At this point my backpack is full of ******* cement so I guess I’m to blame too, Paving my own path to hell which would be poetic if the heat would stop burning all my ******* nerves away
0
May 27, 2019
May 27, 2019 at 7:27 PM UTC
hollow person vol. II
Rivers, eyes, pools of blood, dense and hollow all at once, Colors shifting like embers, burning like flame, the blue kind, Deceptively cool in appearance but in truth, Truth, The most deadly of anything. Can’t cry, can’t smile, can’t feel, Can’t be real, But can’t be dead because if I were Maybe it wouldn’t be so ******* cold, But to hell with the idea that I’m alive, That’s ******** Just like everything else they said and don’t you ******* DARE Ask me who “they” are Because They are the directors of the last movie that caused me to panic They are the boy cracking his ******* knuckles in class and overloading my senses They are the dark and the shadows that I’m scared of They are the light that I want more than anything and then They become the tall ******* in second grade who held your books over your head, just out of reach of your chubby little hands Except the “books” just out of my reach aren’t stories now, they’re lightbulbs Which is the most boring thing ever to a kid But when you grow up and the lightbulbs go out and you reach for a replacement and it’s not there You’re even more scared of the dark than you were when you were 5. So you do the thing where you lay really still and wait for the sun to come up but hey, surprise surprise, It never ******* does, and you forget there was ever a time when you weren’t laying still in the dark. Hell, you forget there was even a sun in the first place. And yeah, maybe it sounds like I’m making the whole world out to be against me but sometimes It just feels like it is, Maybe they didn’t mean to do it but the road to hell is paved with good intentions and At this point my backpack is full of ******* cement so I guess I’m to blame too, Paving my own path to hell which would be poetic if the heat would stop burning all my ******* nerves away
Continue reading...
38
I've created this thing, it's teeth of alabaster, an uneven ring, of watchful disaster. It's staring at me, from the sliding glass door, while cold creeps onto my toes, from the cracked white tile floor. Purple skies of snowfall, overloading bald trees, makes this horror seem small, though even now it cannot freeze.
0
Jan 10, 2013
Jan 10, 2013 at 1:42 PM UTC
Watching
What you give me is what I receive, The feelings overloading and essentially controlling me are forcing the inner version of myself to ignore thee, Block off anyone who interferes with my life in the smallest of ways. Stress is enough, I can no longer think straight. Consistently titling to both ends of our path, I thought the starting would lead us somewhere beyond the fan stays of great, But I was kicked and left in the dust with the others, The prophecy unveiled itself, I was right since the beginning, but my witless gut remained oblivious to my emotionally unstable self and instead stayed behind with the real you. I grew attached to you, thinking everything for once would finally accumulate into one enjoyable entirety, But you shattered me both internally and externally, Now all I can focus on is how to fix these pieces back together. Before I loose touch upon myself once more, I ask anyone for forgiveness, begging on my knees for all to please. I wish to give the little portion of my purity and happiness to you, now, am I considered the wrong and careless one? Or are you, the heartless form of me?
0
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 3:06 PM UTC
It is what it is.
They call it flooding sensory overloading and psyche attack persisting harping on negatives acts created this to a spineless snowflake would drive insane they see it as gnawing at a scar re opening wounds for pain or the torturing style of keeping a prisoner awake while music runs playing unappreciated sounds over and over and over and over again he sadist ****** buzzes believing we are doing his head cracking it I see emotional intelligence this is psychotic obsession by an inferior bully imagine the damage inherent in minds such as these imagine how useless inadequate unfulfilled and pained to do this I feel sorry for them then I find it funny they put in time and effort then even funnier  that there is no bases in reality or truth to it at all perhaps sadly I also see there are loads of unhinged people around then gainfully it all reinforces my confidence and self assurance and in all modesty the difference between good education an ******* But there is something I do not comprehend why ingrates have not considered that if their acts impacted I have choice to leave site and not read their delusion therapies do they imagine I am masochistic or numb as they erroneously say I think not its simply narcissists are arrogant and lack introspection which brings me to a salient assertion which again I state humbly If I'm going to be driven mad it would not be by a bunch of asinine nutcases and semi illiterate spineless cowards and certified toe-rags I rest my Lords......
0
Sep 1, 2019
Sep 1, 2019 at 8:42 AM UTC
I swear on my life......
They call it flooding sensory overloading and psyche attack persisting harping on negatives acts created this to a spineless snowflake would drive insane they see it as gnawing at a scar re opening wounds for pain or the torturing style of keeping a prisoner awake while music runs playing unappreciated sounds over and over and over and over again he sadist ****** buzzes believing we are doing his head cracking it I see emotional intelligence this is psychotic obsession by an inferior bully imagine the damage inherent in minds such as these imagine how useless inadequate unfulfilled and pained to do this I feel sorry for them then I find it funny they put in time and effort then even funnier  that there is no bases in reality or truth to it at all perhaps sadly I also see there are loads of unhinged people around then gainfully it all reinforces my confidence and self assurance and in all modesty the difference between good education an ******* But there is something I do not comprehend why ingrates have not considered that if their acts impacted I have choice to leave site and not read their delusion therapies do they imagine I am masochistic or numb as they erroneously say I think not its simply narcissists are arrogant and lack introspection which brings me to a salient assertion which again I state humbly If I'm going to be driven mad it would not be by a bunch of asinine nutcases and semi illiterate spineless cowards and certified toe-rags I rest my Lords......
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25
Do you ever feel so overwhelmed that every nerve in your body tightens? Just so angry and anxious that you want to shake the dirt off of every fiber of your being. Crank up the volume in the car till your eardrums vibrate and only hear one constant, extremely loud noise. Clutch the steering wheel, speeding down the highway, eyes darting to the metal side rail, battling the urge to slam into it and flip your car. How do I fix this? How do I avoid feeling this way from the beginning? It's the smallest things that set this off and it's absolutely suffocating - like a building on your chest, gasping for air. I think being reckless and overloading the senses helps. Sure it can really hurt you, but in that moment, nothing is okay. I just want it all to shut up - all the thoughts running through my head, all the emotions bubbling up. I just want peace. If that means shaking loose all the parts of my brain and filling that adrenaline by speeding down the highway - then so be it. -t.s.
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Sep 2, 2019
Sep 2, 2019 at 1:00 PM UTC
The Noise of Overwhelmed
Stop. Please. Can't you see at all how this could hurt me? Underneath this broken frame there is a beating heart. And you're not helping. Rage is a very despicable feeling. I don't like it. Very near talking. Spilling. Overloading. It almost feels right. I know not why these feelings persist. They are ghosts and I am going to exercise them. Valiant efforts are useless. Hatred and sadness always win. Always. And no amount of love I bring, I'm always afraid of the hate my heart brings. Love is a myth. You will never feel it. Nor will I. Give up. Everything about you makes me sick. I can't stand feeling this way. Never did I think this would happen. These thoughts would come back. They were gone. Deliver me from this darkness. I beg you. Bring me forth from the shadows. Stop. Please. Can't you see at all how this could hurt me?
0
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 1:14 AM UTC
Untitled