dawn

Some little song lyric about the little voices left to rot and plot, and the clenching of your teeth might help you sleep, but will not lift.

The fuckin brain,

You can’t, you can’t get away from it.

You can’t put it in a box and send it somewhere,away from bystanders.

Churns with self repetition.

Doom.

No scrolling needed.

You can build worlds, set down pleasant chords in a bed of subtlety, introduce easy melody and drift about..

Calm as a clam.

Problem is, you have to look up at some point.

You can build in the digital.

You can make little roads and domiciles and guarded castle walls, freak shit out in the air, geometric patterns and perplexing ponderings..

There’s nothing.

Nothing in here.

Nothing worth keeping,

Nothing worth arguing over.

Perhaps the human experience..

And the chit chat.

Whatever would make it turn off, that’s what those struggling people you see are on about.

No societal injustice, merely personal injustice, the same things over and over and over.

Compliments are uncomfortable and unnatural.

What happens when you have no desire?

And a head full?

You torment, I suppose.

You subconsciously try to dump that out on anyone that will listen.

You don’t try to pedestal or posture,

Nay,,,

You drag em down.

You try to pull them to your level.

Where you can beat them with experience..

Foolish.

SO subtract the “them”.

Then it’s almost surreal.

The real darkness is the knowledge that there is no point.

Dress it up any way you’d like.

It’s either hard truth, or legit dysfunction.

(In the desert I came across a creature.

Naked, beastial , and he ate of his own heart.

I said “is it good friend?”

He replied

“It’s bitter, bitter.

But I like it because it is bitter, and because it is my heart”-Stephen Crane)

Dude was eating his own heart.. but why??

(Who knows?)

I think it’s instinct.

You get bored enough, you’re bound to dig into yourself, after enough miles.

I feel.

So shitty, and I wish I wouldn’t wake up tomorrow.

The cock kicker of it is, I know I will, and I know the scores of dead lives that wish they could have just one more day, the dead rich that would give anything for another hour of it..

This thing.

Muh fuckin sands in an hourglass.

The love you know is all unhealthy, the methods are all dysfunction, and you’re surrounded by apes, hung up on dumb shit.

Dumb.

Shit.

Through and through.

Don’t wanna talk about nothing because nothing is cool.

No faith or hope in them.

Dry day numero dos.

Madness. Lunacy. Stab you in the eye vibes..

I listen to killers because I guess it’s interesting. Honestly become bored with them. Listened to funny people, listened to music makers, listened to thinkers, listened to commenters..

Pretty sick of it.

The whole thing.

Don’t feel connected to any of it.

Don’t give a fuck about it at the moment.

Have to sleep, have to wake up and do it again, have to take care of the stuff you’re supposed to take care of.

Have to watch it get worse and worse.

It’s important..

Cardiac episode in your sleep would be pretty decent, quick,

(Record skip)

A positive person.

Reaching out from nowhere.

Trying to make you feel better.

Trying to make you feel something.

Because that’s her nature.

(What’s the instinct?)

Run.

Don’t respond.

I’m sure I’ll be a problem eventually.

Turn it off,, just quiet, quiet in here,,,just for me, silence.

(Coward)

Then maybe fate tries harder.

(Maybe there are forces beyond your understanding)

Possible.

There are things I can’t explain.

Not like hating you, I can explain why I hate you, just look at yourself..

But when you’re hateful and the world throws a dose of love at you anyway?

Makes my skin peel off.

Makes me want to jump off a bridge.

How..fucking..dare you?

How dare you be kind?

Have you not looked around?

Haven’t you even peaked at these fucking creatures?

Have you watched how they behave??

Jesus..

(Doesn’t explain it, why the universe would try to throw you positivity)

Because she’s tormented too.

She just takes medicine for it.

Not Fauxpium…

Med-ih-sin.

Some shit for your brain,, and we’re back where we started.

Fuck this brain..i hate you.

Mush..

Repetitive mush.

Garg .

Braxxle.

Kling.

Sphrex.

I’ll do this all night, I’ll stare at the ceiling and do this until the sun comes up, then I’ll shower and go listen to people talk about their lives…dying a little more with each rotation..

People start forgetting which stories they told you, so you hear repeats…

A sniper bullet, from a silencer, a muzzle,a suppressor..

Could you shoot me in a way that I couldn’t hear the bullet coming?

Could you make it quick like that?

Only seems fair..

Just make it quick, alright?