“With most people, we see a psychological change that affects the physical nature and condition. You don’t see that in biokinetics because they learn to seperate the shifting physical state from the barrage of emotions and thoughts to and from their psyche. In order to maintain the rapid alteration of themselves, they keep a suspension between both like a determined machine.
This is the scary part. What you get here is the combination of both. Real emotion causing change in what we thought was nothing more than a monster with a mechanical purpose. A nervous heart attack in a functioning theoretical black hole for our species. What thinks and feels like a vulnerable human being and acts like the Grim Reaper’s mentor.”
Because I’m too busy being so goddamn good at it to even exhale in your direction. Especially when I fail.”
There really is no good ending to this.
“This helpless feeling. The burning sensation from the lacerations on my arms. This relentless hatred for everything and everyone I used to cherish. Why must my own mistakes catalyze the emotions I thought could never overcome me? Guilt itself refuses redemption of any kind. Humility looks upon my eyes with shame. Is there no bullet big enough or blade sharp enough?”
“It’s the kind of anger that makes the story turn into text on a page. The flash of rage that pulls you from your overture of content-ness into bitter reality. The call to arms that puts you back into the fight that is you versus everything you hate.”
Every miserable fuck who can tell me what I’m not good at or thinks they’re being cute with me can get smashed by a semi-truck filled with decaying puppies for all I fucking care.
I don’t mind if you’ve heard it all before, thats none of my concern. If you want the truth, you’ll hear this a million more times from tons of people you hate so drop your sanity fucking now.
Every good “person” tells you that you can be whatever you want if you work hard and stay innocent- from the start. Unless you plan your life from 1st grade or you’re a total asshole like the majority of the planet. Tumblr and the rest of the Internet is full of disgruntled people who are tired of trying and failing or feeling worthless. The little percentage that aren’t must have some magical key to life, which I will shatter into a thousand pieces to stab them with while they sleep and watch the bile from their digestive tract eat away their lungs and heart.
I will shut up, perservere, and do my work like a good boy so everyone will quit trying to stand up to my useless complaints. I agree 100%. But this is my territory. Tell me who I am and what I fail at and I will spend every waking moment at your throat watching your eyes slowly burst as my impervious fucking chokehold drowns all the sorry excuses, lies, and shit you spew to make yourself seem superior. I hate your insignificant existence and the universe will yawn with boredom when your putrid blood fills the spaces between my wrath.
“This was never intended to be art. If you want it to be art, take a nice sepia shot of it and call it a day.
If you want it to stay business, leave it exactly how it is and whine about it.”
“That confidence- that dominating feeling of stepping on the lesser, utilizing the ignorance and adrenaline, accepting selfishness as the trait that gives you success. That feeling of taking and not returning, of throwing sympathy onto the ground and breaking it down so traces of it never existed. Oh, that arrogance- thought of as disgusting and horrible by the general populace, but found as immaculate beauty and perfect by the few insane.
They’re washing my blood down into the sewers. I won’t make it to tomorrow.”
“I threw color and sound into a world that was lacking there of.
I would look at the gods, these ‘artists’ that made the songs themselves.
But one can only look to the stars for so long and wish to be the same, until they climb their own way among them.”
We’ll make a world better than yours. Freedom of all kinds, of religion. All holy books will be published and sold anywhere their groups choose to sell them. Churches, synagogues, mosques, every kind of shrine or place of gathering. Love of both same and opposing genders, of different races, of disabilities. The smartest minds from foreign countries who don’t have what we have or very little can work with the smartest people from around the globe. They can support not only their loving families but children and people everywhere with debilitating disease they didn’t ask for. Curing the illness that takes the people who we care for more than anything away from us. Political factions can set aside their differences, compromise, and even share a laugh or two. Across social networks, we’ll share our experiences, our hopes, worries, fears, ambitions, dreams. I think by then, everyone can at least respect each other despite what sets us apart. We will convince the lost of us to continue living. The broken and abused to find refuge in our hearts. We will help the under privileged maintain a better life and become something more than a wandering nobody. We will pledge to our creativity, our innovation, our selflessness, our acceptance, our determination, our humility, and our love.
Look to the stars to see just how insignificant your prejudice is. Planets within solar systems, in voluminous galaxies, in our open and never ending universe. Just a microscopic dot in the infinite colors of life.
Remember that when you lose yours.
Often I give up
and can’t stand the failure and disappointment.
It’s a storm of insecurity and confusion,
perpetuated by a desire of seeking comfort
in others who wish to become more than below standard.
Rain or shine can’t prevent it,
prototypical assurances make it worse.
But every now and then, I escape
back to the remnants of my potential
and unsung positives that once flared intensely.
Back to something real, no shroud, no conceal-
only a good laugh and smile pay tribute to my persona.
This thing I once was, an archetype of success and happiness,
this thing I could’ve been that I remind to try again to be.
Never a day goes by where the journey gets closer and closer to its end.
A little progress, initiated by a quip, an observation,
anything shared with my undeserving atrocity.
Every time you look at me.