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author: @acidslug@cities.yesterweb.org
Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why are you so fucking stupid? No one can hurt me as well as I do.
Sink, sink, sink, I cant even think. Flooded by impressions, invaded by thoughts i imagined banished. Why is my brain sick? Am I being punished?
"I feel stupid and contagious" - the song came on, a haunted memory of yore. My breath trembles, my heart pounds and I feel my eyes start to tear up. Your death still haunts me.
Like a slowly tightening clamp, my head sluggishly enter the domain of a bastard migraine. I seek the shadow, the embrace of dark and the silence of only my beating heart.
Madame justice, are you content? Do you feel your name invoked for a cause that is just? Or do you feel like me? Betrayed, disposed of, called a degenerate, a sicko, a pervert, a menace to the rights of every lawful citizen? As I stood up for the truly sick, the poor, the ones in need, as I walked the streets for the ones who did not dare, as I spoke for the ones who had lost their voice, they started calling me scum, liar and fake.
I am done with these rules, from the resentment and fury, I will forge a true enemy of the state. Someone who will not be a mosquito to the state, but a blinding, crippling enemy of the state, someone who seek true justice for the centuries of abuse forced upon us.
Bread, bread, not dead.
Bread, bread, not dead.
A mantra on repeat, a phrase about priorities, a reminder of deeds done and a future yet to be had.
Bread, bread, not dead.
Bread, bread, not dead.
Above a deep dark abyss with pearls scattered in a pattern void of predictability, so dark and so deep that no mind can properly comprehend it, an abyss of perpetual dark and depth. Below, a mound of corpses, bodies withered by time and violence. A figure on top of the mound, skin stretched over bitter bone, panting with effort and tears streaming down her cheeks, two daggers in her hands, both decorated with blood over cold steel. Through her gritted teeth come words of surrender, 'no more, no more', repeated like a pleading to a higher power. The heavens above her quiet and judgemental, offering no refuge or aid.
Drunk again, music on full volume, tears drawn out by beats, skull about to implode, stop, stop - please stop. Unstoppable tears without release and no God in sight.
I always pictured myself as the dragon rider, the one breaking the chains of a dragon captured. Now I know I'm the dragon, a chained and almost broken fury unleashed upon her tormentors by a soul honed to perfection.
I am reminded that nothing is black or white, it is always a spectrum of light or darkness. Age, blissfully has tempered my emotions and made me less reactive.
Keep thinking of the scrap heap of childish things, the things we shed, the things we part with, willingly and unwillingly. What treasures do we find there? What monsters lurk in its shadow?
Went through the toughest point last night, music, alone time and introspection can sometimes be a wonderous thing. Today was better, warm, sunny and less stress in general.
Dark clouds on my mind's sky, like a rollercoaster passing its peak and now a fast downhill into darkness.
I was reminded of love today with one of my favorite quotes on the subject. From the song Teardrop by Massive attack, the first sentence is:
Love, love is a verb. Love is a doing word.
We rarely think of love as an action, we think of it as a state of being.