Deeper and Deeper.
Posted: 27 Aug 2011, 01:20
Saturday August 27, 2011 - 1:20 am -
What can I lecture...compose or do in general to fix this dementia. A back and forth of rationality and derangement. I fear I am loosing it again. Better...worse yet? I do not seem to mind it. These emissions, more like echoes of whispers, hissing with infected tongues in...my...ear. The shadows on these four walls, they are closing in on me. Glaring! Who am I...just a low down shell of a man. No love, no lust, no purpose. Where the **** is the purpose in life? Can anyone tell me this?
...Damn. There goes the sirens again. The memories of that night. The vesper of my freedom. All for nothing. It was in vain...all in vain! What good has it done me to escape from that institute? That...prison. Frye Asylum. Words that I never want to hear nor think of again. Jinxed! Condemned! ...Nightmares.
What. Am. I. Doing? Who's going to read this heap of ****? Oh well. It's better than squeezing myself off on some drug dealer or pimp. Yeah. I wrote that. I am not afraid to admit I live a down-n-dirty life. I've done my good and I've done my bad deeds in these twenty something..years of my living.
So, I ask to the public eye. And, I leave this Entry up for comments if you really gotta. Will you be standing in to corner or the closet, screaming with me? In a fit of mad rushing descent into delirium and hate and confusion? Will you be bouncing your head off the walls, breaking your fists in the bricks, and picking fights for no reason but, for the pure intention of -finding- reason or just having some fun?
I will see you in the vacuousness...
- Hollow
What can I lecture...compose or do in general to fix this dementia. A back and forth of rationality and derangement. I fear I am loosing it again. Better...worse yet? I do not seem to mind it. These emissions, more like echoes of whispers, hissing with infected tongues in...my...ear. The shadows on these four walls, they are closing in on me. Glaring! Who am I...just a low down shell of a man. No love, no lust, no purpose. Where the **** is the purpose in life? Can anyone tell me this?
...Damn. There goes the sirens again. The memories of that night. The vesper of my freedom. All for nothing. It was in vain...all in vain! What good has it done me to escape from that institute? That...prison. Frye Asylum. Words that I never want to hear nor think of again. Jinxed! Condemned! ...Nightmares.
What. Am. I. Doing? Who's going to read this heap of ****? Oh well. It's better than squeezing myself off on some drug dealer or pimp. Yeah. I wrote that. I am not afraid to admit I live a down-n-dirty life. I've done my good and I've done my bad deeds in these twenty something..years of my living.
So, I ask to the public eye. And, I leave this Entry up for comments if you really gotta. Will you be standing in to corner or the closet, screaming with me? In a fit of mad rushing descent into delirium and hate and confusion? Will you be bouncing your head off the walls, breaking your fists in the bricks, and picking fights for no reason but, for the pure intention of -finding- reason or just having some fun?
I will see you in the vacuousness...
- Hollow