where do you store the tethered remains of your soul? i have seen what you used to be, smelled the air for your decaying scent long before we met. this type of you, the you you once were and sometimes are. we come to loggers every so often not for lack of love or want of each other, but because we catch glimpses of the mud coating our hearts, the dripping onyx tar filtering through the cockles of our chests. try as i might, i often end up in a state of pain, loneliness and wanting. can’t stand to be around me? the feeling graces my mind with equal if not exaggerated fervency, believe me. 

how much longer will they run this labyrinth of lust, trust, mistrust, love, hate, pain, talk talk talk talk talk. grandfather used to say silence is the most powerful response. i wonder what turn my silence could birth. when the universe rewards your egotism, when your peers praise your average being, when the whole fucking planet condones what a pathetic, fashion forward little cunt you are. you my love, you are blinded by the love you feel you deserve. they have spoilt you, those people, those creatures of consumption. 

your reflection distorted by their influence. their traces left in the life we were supposed to have. like pearls of poison i come across them from time to time and swallow every       single       one. a different era, separated by but a year. a clique so varied it petrifies me. impossible to trust, loyalty to him alone. 

this love could be great, but the threads of attachment need repairing. individuality within compassion should be nurtured. combined well being must temper individual needs.

listen to me. this rot must be stopped.

“i hurt myself today, to see if i still feel”

i’ve listened to and loved this song for most of my adult life. hell, i can relate on almost a daily basis. recently, however, hurt has taken on a much more subliminal role in my life. sometimes on our journey through existence we come across shapes of hopeful desire, all too willing to add value to our meandering paths.  you see them coming from a mile away, all spit and zeal and hugs and tempo and support and and and and. you get caught up in their illy attempts at encouragement and lose sense and sight of your place in the universe. you might start to believe in your own abilities to the point where you lose perception of the realistic and tangible aspects of your pathetic life (yes, look at yourself in the grand scheme…you’re pathetic and utterly unimportant) and become engrossed in delusions of grandeur and seeming success.

step back young soul. take a gander at your shapeless plasma an realise that these falsities serve you no purpose but that of a fool. this is my advice to you.

i got entangled in one or more of these vague and overpowering personalities and lost vision of the realism guiding my movements. hurt has never felt as real, as potent and as nauseatingly sharp as now. failure on a realistic tile of thought is easy to process. failure on a pillar held up by nothing more than affection and promise, you try and sort through that one and let me know how it goes. 

there is only you, there is only me. them, those people, they cannot help you. make it happen, just you. take the time and plan your next step. come to the realisation early on that you are alone in this endeavor. draw on inspiration, but know that when you fall you fall alone.

sirilinn:

I miss getting up in the morning with a list of questions in my hand, meeting up with a stranger with an interesting life story to tell. Having a wow-moment while I listen to that stranger talk cause he’s just said something that either is perfectly connected to a thought I’ve once had or something completely fresh that opens up my eyes. Then walk home, with a notebook full of answers, feeling inspired and excited about the article I’m about to write.