Have you ever felt the profound urge to shed tears just because you feel so heavy inside but couldn’t because for some reason, your eyes just wouldn’t let you? Have you ever felt an unbearable pain banging incessantly against the fragile walls of your chest and you want to let it out so bad— you want to pour the goddamned feeling out the world until it floods the whole planet and every single human being swims and paddles for their lives and you’re just there; sitting, watching and feeling relieved because you’re free again— but you couldn’t because you simply couldn’t? Have you ever felt like shit and you know that even though not completely, just having the chance to express a tad of that raging ardour that’s bottling up in you would certainly help you feel at ease, but you know you couldn’t because you just couldn’t?
And so you lie or sit down and curl or stand up carrying that rotundly distress in you— once again letting it dominate your soul and control you’re whole being. Suffering, suffering, and suffering.
I proposed to her on the grease-slicked kitchen floor, an onion ring in my hand. Had it not been for the spillage of said-vegetable whilst we were in the midst of the process of preparing in for frying, I would never have found myself on my knee, delivering my age old proposition to her, “Flame…
It’s dark again. I’m not sure if it’s been dark here for a long time and I’ve just noticed now or what. I don’t have to tell you anything. I don’t need to tell you anything. Of course, you don’t know how being in the dark feels like. You have no idea how curling up on the ground in a room filled of everything but light and air is like. You think you do, but you don’t. You think you really do, but you really don’t.
Any minute now, the rain is going to pour hard on the land that I’m seated on. As the water meets the soil, they’ll both struggle to interact with each other for the first and last time, speaking in their own natural ways, hoping to know more about their essential contrary. But as they both try hard, time passes by so swiftly and they’re going to end up the way they’ve always been fated to end up like— mixing and morphing into filthy mud— forever staying, eternally being.
I don’t know about you. So I’ve got nothing else to say. I only feel and see what’s around me and right now, it is cold and dark. I don’t know how long I can manage to keep myself alive here. But hey, it’s no biggie and don’t worry, I’m not writing this to ask for help or any sort of rescue there is. I only am because I simply need a breathing soul to read whatever it is that my shaking, feeble fingers can still manage to scratch on wherever whilst they still can. Goodbye for now.
(via loveyourchaos)
The pure ferocity of the guitar riff in this song makes me want to commit random acts of violence.
I see things in a very atmospheric way— maybe it’s my mind or my waning eye-sight, but the world to me always looks like a burning fish-eye photograph or a starkly-lit stage-show.
People actually are monsters. I see their insides like w-rays sometimes, with fur on their faces, tongues hanging out their bleeding mouths and their eyes-alight. But somehow, seeing them in such manner draws a smile on my face.
