When the world ends There won’t be anything left to say we were here But I’m sure somehow, some way I’ll be staring at your face for all eternity Your demon-like eyes and your poisonous thighs Will all, but warm me by the fire So cold I will still be, that none of this Will ever seem like it truly exists Trapped in a wake Trapped in an illusion It doesn’t need a name but Most people call it hell I can feel our newly developed spines Piercing the skin, digging deeper Your cold dead fingers latch onto my soul I know now that you will never let go I told myself it was okay at first But now I wish I could cut and run Trapped in my mind Trapped in my head Most people call it a nightmare I’m left calling it home
The white picket fences have been torn down From the post to the ground It all lays flat all around The existence of dreams proves There is something more to you and me The clothes have all but come off From our heads to our toes They lay flat on the floor The fact that we aren’t disgusted yet proves There is something more to you and me The marriage is all but gone Divorce tore everything apart Right the fuck out the ground The anger between us proves There is so much more to you and me
They say fire lead to life Then what did love bring to the picture Some could guess but the true answer is death We pretend it’s funny because it is You know it’s sad, but it’s the truth that hurts If you hold your breath long enough then maybe That dizzy, sickness feeling won’t go away Walk it off, the pain subsides after a while At some point, so I’ve been told So I’ve been told for too long If you know anything about bottles You’ll know they don’t leave any answers Only a mountain of questions
The darkness surrounds me As the rain falls down Over the sky, blood drips down Signaling only death I hope you all drown I hope someday you are found Bleed me slowly and see If I’m still alive You all said I was crazy Said I didn’t know anything A child with adult eyes
The cuts they hurt More in the beginning Stones casted out, words with so much meaning What was the point if not intended to hurt Time has a way of healing broken wounds Time has a way to make it go away All of this all over again Clairvoyant even in the womb Because I know I’ve always known How all of this ends
Gather around, get to together Pick and choose But you should know Not all of you None of you will be Here when it is all through An endless time born to repeat A drowning, a rebirth, a life destined to live Born to be who we were always going to be Keep destroying, keep hurting, keep doing it all Free will was never a choice Only a way of life I never saved anything only kept it going God spoke to me and I chose
Doing nothing drives the sanest insane Bring me some new pain I know I can take it At all costs, it has to be this way In the darkest holes I have found I’ll be fine, wanted you to know Dragging me through hell This place I call home Miss it more than I could know Simple minded, stupid, what you will I’ll survive, I’ll find a way to make it Who I am, Who I’ve always been Smiling and digging a grave In your name I pray You’ll never feel the way I do I will always fail at this thing Called life I will always find a way To embrace the things I never wanted out of life
I don’t necessarily fear death. Not in the sense that maybe one should. I know it will happen. I’m even okay with it to a certain extent. Part of life after all. If anything, I fear dying too early. Dying before I’ve done anything at all. My anxiety about the whole thing keeps me up at night. Fuels my own perpetual destruction and decent into madness. I complain about working nights, but the truth is that I have always been up late. One of the reasons I first took the overnight job. Figured if I’m already up I might as well get paid. Stupidity. For those of us who know. There is a difference between staying up all night watching movies and staying up all night killing yourself. Things only got worse from there. Because I let them. I let the fear seep into my soul to the point that I craved it like a drug.
There were nights. There are still nights that I relapse. That my mind digs in deep to the fear and madness. I have nights that I fear that I won’t wake up. Close my eyes and this, that was it. I fear the idea that I won’t be able to see my daughter grow up or that I won’t see my wife ever again. I fear their lose and their pain of not having me there as much as I fear the same for myself. I fear that I’ve wasted too much time doing nothing when I could have been doing more for them. For myself. It is a cycle that some nights I cannot break and because of it I don’t sleep. My fear of death is irrational.
I fear these things because I will miss them. Because I am awake. Because I am here. But I’ll be dead so I won’t even know that I am missing them. I won’t know what or how they feel or what they are doing. It is not as though once I’m dead and gone I will have feeling or thought. But the fear tells me no this is not how it will be. I should be thinking selfishly, but I can’t about this. I know that they will be fine without me. I also know neither would ever say it or at least, I hope. They are two strong and amazing women. They don’t need me but in truth I need them. This rationalization doesn’t wipe away the fear because what if? What if I am stuck on the sidelines missing every moment? Missing every chance to tell them I love them once again? What if there is a heaven and a hell?
Personally, I don’t care if either or both of them exist. Either place could only be one in the same with different surroundings. Neither place would contain the things I will miss the most in this world. A fascinating fact that I can’t out run, can’t find comfort in, but only dread. Stoking the flames of my fears. There could be something else beyond life but it would only torture me with the thought that I am missing so much once again. That all of this was for nothing. Honestly when I die, I want there to be nothing. I hope there is nothing. I want to rest for the first time in my life. I’d like to rest. As I grow old, I hope for immortality, I hope for more time to avoid all this what if, though the older I get the more I know it isn’t so. Do I fear death? Sort of, but really, I fear growing old.
I’m pretty laid back. I don’t express myself much through religion, cults, or anger. I get mad and I might even get offended though it takes a lot to get me there and I don’t remember the last time I was really offended. I told some body I was the other day because she burped near or around my face. I’m not sure that counts towards being offended or just thinking she was an asshole. Coworkers are assholes remember that. Usually though I am the one offending other people. Almost all the time I offend other people to the point that my friends have to signal me or use safe words to let me know that I need to calm it down. Is it because I am an asshole? Why am I even questioning that?
Maybe, but really it is because I’m not afraid to speak the truth. I’m not afraid to say that something is black when it is black and something is white when it is white. I know that there is gray out there. I get that. I’m not a fan of the gray. It leaves the possibility of too many what ifs. Getting off point, but I’m not sure because I never really have a point in all of this. I’m laid back. Most people tell me any and everything. Helps with character development so I don’t mind. Well, I do mind because I hate people, but sometimes out of the hate grows new people. For those of you who don’t know that is how babies are made. Unless you were made in a tube. Babies shouldn’t be made in a tube. A gray area topic, but then again, most babies shouldn’t have been here in the first place. Now we’ve found our way to the center of the dark gray cloud that hangs over my head.
I don’t know the whole topic is so touch and go. No one wants to see a baby die including this heartless bastard, but at the same time traffic is getting to be too much. Why do people have to go anywhere any more anyways for anything? Is there such as thing as too many people? Apparently, there is and apparently the best way to combat that is to make more because they just won’t stop falling out of vaginas. Have you been to a Babies’r’us, however the fuck you spell it, there are so many babies. Some of them are downright what the fuck drown that thing before it can eat you or worse vote conservative, but then there is always that one baby that is just so cute. Alright fine… they’re all fucking cute. Even the conservative ones. I am human after all. I am more disgusted with myself than you will ever be.
Such a hard choice. To fuck or not to fuck? Being an adult sucks most of the time. Being a kid is so much easier. No one gives a fuck if you mess up. Okay maybe your parents but they aren’t even real people anymore. They are hollowed out shells of who they used to be thanks to you. Yeah, you killed your parents. Next time you see them, if you can, look into their eyes. Dead, they are dead. They still talk, breathe, and do shit but not really. They haven’t slept in so long that they don’t even understand the concept. Honestly what is the point? Give death a chance to take you in your sleep? That’s some adult mentality right there. “If I don’t sleep. I’m not dead.” That manic laughter you hear isn’t the boogey man hiding in your closet. It is your parent’s trying not to completely break down on the other side of the wall.
Really though they haven’t slept since god knows when because of you. They’re backed up because of you. Their hopes and dreams are half of what they used to be. If they even exist at all because what’s the fucking point? I’m not bitter… Being an adult is the absolute worst. So, stop saying I can’t fucking wait until… because yes you fucking can wait.. Speaking of being an adult. I should probably go feed my kid. It has been six hours after all and her little arms can’t reach through the bars so well. Don’t judge me. How else am I supposed to get anything else done around here? The glass doesn’t pick itself up. That’s what my mouth is for.
Last time I write something personal on a dare… I’m so behind on so many things… Looking back… looking forward… everything will work itself out… there will never be enough time in a day… even if I spend most of it wasting away… kids aren’t so bad… being an adult is shit… but someone has to do… not really sure what it is that I am trying to say… I just know that I don’t want to do any of the things I have to do today…
One eyeing it on the way to work. Sober of all things. Eyes heavy from lack of sleep. Eyes heavy from all the shit holding me back. Sadly, this is the norm and not the exception. This isn’t one long night. This is a collection of endless nights. The emotional drain of doing the same thing every night is called life. It won’t find that definition in the dictionary. No, they only put what people don’t know in those damn things. Told we could do anything. Told we could be anything. If this is something then they can take all of it back. Their lies keep us from killing ourselves, but don’t be fooled we kill ourselves every day. Risking our lives for a dollar and a day that most of us, the ones that truly need it, will never know assurance of financial independence. But at least on holidays we get time and a half, so that’s something. Not everyone is so lucky to even receive that. Smile big, smile with everything, smile until it bleeds. How could I ever be so lucky? Decades, generations of sweat and blood only calls for more. We all belong to a collective noise all saying the same thing, “Follow your dreams.” The dreams keep us going even if they will never come true. What if my dreams are to watch the world burn? Something to pass the time.
Figuratively of course the smell of burning bodies would get pretty nauseating very quickly and the screams. I don’t even like to hear my neighbors beating the shit out of one another, so I couldn’t even imagine how annoying a thousand plus screaming people would even sound like. All seriousness aside though. I’m not a bad person looking for a reason. I am not the embodiment of evil looking for the world to bend at the knee. I feel things. Feel them probably more than I should some would say. Bent on my own knees. Scrapping against the concrete. I’m not even sure I care for what I feel from day to day. I just see all this kindling sitting there in our society and I think all it needs is a spark. One tiny flash of light to set the whole thing into an uncontrollable inferno, and I wonder why can’t that be me? Opportunity is what set those who do apart from those that don’t. Some stupid shit like that. People say a lot of shit. I can’t be expected to write it all down or convince you that it is all true. Facts are facts, lies are lies, and if everyone you is lying… all you have to do is tell the truth…
But could one tiny spark really set this all into total chaos? Can words really change everything? Am I prepared for a world left in ashes from the comfort of my office chair? Defiantly wouldn’t be anything to bitch about, and that would suck. I mean could you imagine coming home and having nothing to say? What a waste of a day. Maybe there is a reason that not all dreams come true. There I go again talking myself back into my chains, back into slavery. Don’t be fooled. That is all this is. It never went away. They changed the rules, but this is still the same game. Humanity will always take what isn’t theirs for themselves. This isn’t new. Cycles and waves. It is in our nature. Someone’s nature. Been at the bottom so long. I get confused. Forget my place in all of this. Have the right to say whatever I want, but no one has ever had to listen. A million mouths all saying the same thing is only noise. A unified noise that sounds like nothing at all. In that way we are all equal. In that way as we kneel next each other. We are more connected than some assholes would like to believe. We all want to be special, but there’s nothing special about any of us. It comes down to luck and opportunity. Neither of which are connected in any way…
Honesty will only get you hated. The world doesn’t want freedom or change they just believe that they do. What they really want is more of the same. More shows about people like them, more stories about people who go through the same shit as them. What they want is to feel as though someone understands what they are going through. When we are all going through the same shit. Over and over and fucking over again. They say that they want one thing, but in truth they want the exact opposite of that because the human race is too stupid to realize what they want. I don’t even know what I want. I fit right into the puzzle and it makes me sick. I hate myself for it. Like a good whore it is only after I’m done that it dawns on me. That I am as much of the problem as everyone around me. If only we actually thought about our thoughts. Think long enough and you might have something to think about. Mob mentality doesn’t leave room for dreams. All the screaming doesn’t leave any room for change. All my depression doesn’t leave any room for admiration. No, all these thoughts only help to keep me tethered to the ground.
Fuck… it’s only been five minutes…
Haven’t I said enough already… Sell my soul they say… Give them what they want… Never sign anything unless you have nothing to lose… I had everything and now I have nothing…