Tag Archives: personal

the waiting game

anticipation

is building

and building

and building up

and still building…

but without

the relief of a

needed release,

it’s all i could do

not to crumble

under my own

nervous weight.

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The Wrong Setting

I feel it everyday, it’s all the same
It brings me down but I’m the one to blame
I’ve tried everything to get away
So here I go again, chasing you down again
Why do I do this? Over and over…

~*~

I’m depressed diagnostical

Five seconds away from detonating

Can’t talk about my problems

Just gotta keep on fucking smiling

.

Don’t feel it’s worth it ‘cause I’m worthless

A waste of space and a waste of pain

So I’ll count all my secrets and my losses

And drive my best friend near insane

.

I can’t sugarcoat my neurotic rants anymore

In sweeter words and fancier metaphors

I used to patch up all the dull grey spares

But I ran out of pastel and neon colours

.

I can’t sleep, so I write, I can’t write, so I sleep

Repeat the cycle until it’s bent off backwards

I can’t do something, and I can’t do nothing

Summer’s just a prolonged heatstroke reward

.

I’m suicidal sensational

In between dying and already dead

But I can’t talk about the same problematic shit

Someone please get me out of my head…

~*~

It feels like everyday stays the same
It’s dragging me down and I can’t pull away
So here I go again, chasing you down again…

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who?

if i was still myself now

in the words that i wrote

and the things that i said

and the songs that i sang

then i’d be a whole lot less

in the words that i borrowed

and the things that they said

and the songs that were never

even mine to mouth along to.

then; who else would i be but

another one who lost their mind

trying to stay true to themselves?

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The Weakness

And as I’ve aged, the only thing I think has changed
Is that the demons have moved from under my bed
Into the inner depths of my head
I can’t escape the ugly things my mind creates
I speculate that they’ll stay with me ’til the grave…

~*~

I scream to the wreck of my mind on my knees

Pray for death’s innocence for my untimely release

When the hurt is too little, the numb is too much

When I want to feel more but I’m just too detached

.

“The disease is not real, you have no right to be sad”

Their way of caring is not caring when I start to get bad

Waiting to understand, when every time is just a relapse

Swing the pendulum again until lines on my skin overlap

.

And their laughter becomes a never happily ever after

I escape in the bedroom with that ugly mocking mirror

When home feels like choking fingers around my throat

I splash my face with dreams to convince myself to cope

.

Thinking that someday soon I will be just who I want to be

But when I say the words, it just feels like lip-syncing to me

I’m on the brink of the bottomless cliff, but I refuse to jump

Because a fool is just another fool waiting for the right bump

.

So I scream to the wreck of my mind to grow some wings

And pray for life’s corruption for me to be finally released

When giving up is too easy, and it’s difficult to fucking hope

I cling to what little miserable faith I have and try not to let go.

~*~

I can’t help the way my mind
Is hardwired to hate myself
Is there any hope for me?
‘Cause I swear that this is hell
The way I desperately try to save myself
‘Cause I can’t save myself…

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brevity

i could be

eloquent

about the

graceless

pains i feel

but then why

should i hide

in the words

that make it

all too real?

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enough said

You wanna move mountains? Go ahead
I think I’ll suffocate instead
A change of scenery won’t tame
The endless earthquakes in my head
They’re all in my head, so I’ll suffer through
A means to an end, it’s all I can do…

~*~

i’m not the one at fault

but i’m the only cause you see

so i have to take the effect

what do you want me to do?

i’ve cut myself up until

both my mind and veins are drained

but not of all the guilt that i carry

and still, would it be enough?

would it be enough for you?

.

i’m just so tired of waiting

until i stop being such a fucking liability

and i start being your healthy host

that you parasites can ravage

just so i could atone for what i did

or at least just so you would see it that way

because what else is there?

saying “i’m sorry” when i don’t mean it?

that wouldn’t be enough for you, would it?

.

but then again, it’s my fault

for being way too fucking optimistic

i don’t accept good and bad luck

and that this time i struck out

no, it’s all about positives and negatives

call it a karmic irony, if you may

find a way to be a little happy for once

and life drags you down through 7 layers of hell

tell me, loved ones, was i never enough?

.

and i couldn’t even write about it

because you’d call me selfish and shallow

that i have no right to be depressed

because i’m living the “good life”

and that i see only myself in all this

well, of course i fucking do

i need to place myself somewhere

otherwise i wouldn’t see the bigger picture

but don’t you see, loved ones?

will you never see that i’ve had enough?

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a self-portrait painted on anaheim landscapes

I did what I do best, forgot myself
Got overdressed like everybody else
A glance and a half smile
Black heels on the white tile
It took seven years for your path to realign…

~*~

i am made of torn skin

and overplayed stereo songs

and a million miles to cali

and washed-out daydream colours

i’m lost; some would say gone

and my stares are silent dynamite

i remember what i throw away

again my tongue detonates

and i’m searching for meaning

in a world that’s as meaningless

as a crude april first joke

and not in the least bit funny

but i’ll keep on looking anyway

and maybe it will make sense

in some parallel universe someday

where time doesn’t wear my skin

and songs never sound the same

and cali’s just a tiptoe and half away

and the daydream never fades.

~*~

Gone, doesn’t it feel good to be invisible?
Gone, just like the way I used to be
Gone, have I been fading away?
Yeah, I’m so gone, gone…

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stolen

i know

i should

have seen

it coming

and this

selfish vein

of yours was

my undoing.

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Know Thyself

I’m calling you from the future
To let you know we made a mistake
And there’s a fog from the past
That’s giving me, giving me such a headache
And I’m back with a madness…

~*~

When I reevaluate myself

Where do I start to draw the line

Between the beginning and the change

Down my brain or with my spine?

.

When did my hands start shifting

To change pure gold into black rust

And lucidity became obstinate

Covering the mirrors with cold dust?

.

What place was my starting line

And when did I stumble and trip?

Did I get to the checkered finish

Or trampled by my opponents’ feet?

.

Why did my pen become cynical

And my heart run out of honest ink

How did my eyes fail to see the picture

When did my mind cease to think?

.

Have I truly changed for the better

Or did I just become a stranger shape

From fitting out of the cramped box

Because I wished for a little more space?

.

Did I drift away from my audience

As their applause started to sound the same

Was I meant for a moment in spotlights

Or was I meant to hide away my own name?

.

Were these lines on my face here before

Or the lines on my arms and thighs?

And the lines I once thought avant-garde

Are they now nothing but banal lies?

.

And why did my tongue get longer

But the accuracy in their wings clipped

Confusion may soar abound the sky

But my heavy body refuses to lift

.

Regrets and problems, I once could carry

Have broken my back and my will to be

The things I loved, reduced to wistful smiles

Memories once happy turned sorry

.

I wish I didn’t sulk and drain myself

Turn off the lights just to be haunted by ghosts

I fucking wish I didn’t have to be so insecure

To let emotions linger like a gracious host

.

Sometimes I think I really know myself

Until everyone says the complete opposite

And everything I do turns upsidedown

I become less uncertain of my purposeful visit

.

Just who was I? Or rather, just who am I now?

When I reassess, all I do is think and rethink again

It hurts my head, and I’ll just start to lose myself

Better to keep the present than to bury myself in past skins.

~*~

I got rage every day, on the inside
The only thing I do is sit around and kill time
I’m trying to blow out the pilot light
I’m trying to blow out the light
I’m just young enough to still believe, still believe
But young enough not to know what to believe in…

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if there’s a god, he doesn’t have time for my bullshit

Take the pain
Make it billboard big and swallow it for me
Time capsule for the future
Trust me, that’s what I will be
Oh, the things that you do in the name
Of what you love

You are doomed but just enough…

~*~

i’m just so sick of faith

being forced down my throat

like it’s a mandatory responsibility

i may as well be tasting tax bills

but even then, at least i know

that the former is concrete, instead

of blindly fumbling for my hands as

i clasp the scapular and mumble

memorised prayers that i grew tired of

in another dead lifetime ago

because if i have to starve for days

and cut myself open just to enter heaven,

then why do they tell me it’s the devil’s fault?

isn’t that what i’m doing, anyway?

and what’s the fucking point of paradise?

Yes, the norms and dictations were all fun and

amusing when i was a wide-eyed child

so malleable, curious, and foolish enough to believe in

santa claus and the tooth fairy and tall tales

and believing whatever people told me was true

because i couldn’t construct my own reality back then

but now i’m older (one may contradict that

i’m not *that* old, but if my family says i’m old

enough to have to go through this bullshit, then that’s

adequately old enough for me, thanks very much)

and i’m wornout and jaded and tired and have

gone through not a lot, but just enough to lose the beliefs

that have done nothing good or beneficial for me

because all the saints and the promises of salvation

couldn’t make my eyes fall shut every night

and keep them wide open every morning,

day in and day out, over and over and over again.

i may as well be wishing quiet little whims every 11:11

or plucking lucky four-leaf clovers from grass

for whatever faith that’s worth anchoring myself onto.

Now, i know to keep my mouth shut and respect their faiths

but just don’t fucking cram all of it down my throat

like it’s my responsibility to be a good child,

to feel sorry for my sins and stay away from hell…

because if i live in a world like this, just how bad can that be?

~*~

And it’s getting hard to know what’s real
And if death is the last appointment
Then we’re all just sitting in the waiting room
I am just a human trying to avoid my certain doom…

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