Laughing In the Face of Darkness

There is a story I’m always trying to tell
It doesn’t have a beginning, middle, but it does have an end
It is long, some might say endless
A story I can never seem to get straight
Give it all I got, in the end, it never makes any sense
Wish you could see my thoughts as they see me
My hopes and dream is that maybe one day
You can feel what it is like to be me
Bleed thoughts onto the page, inhale words to live another day
If only it was all for something
Wonder if I would have more to say
Living life in reverse is no way to live
Search for the middle without anywhere to begin
Another day wasted, I’m wasting away
How much more of this shit am I willing to take
Standing still, standing right here as I always have
Had no other options so what choice did I have
Feel as though I have said this all before
Staring Into the Screen
Hollowed out valley, acting as a megaphone
What’s the best way to get banned from Twitter?
Saying how you really feel even if for a second
Don’t be silly, popularity has always counted
Being an asshole has always been second nature
To getting to the top
All of this has rules, follow them if you want to be
Left behind, mixed signals waving me in
Always at home waiting for me
A coffin built, paid off in blood
No one builds anything just with their hands, any more
Sandcastle made out of ashes, inhale, exhale
The poison doing its work
Have more in common than I thought
Excessive and over the limit
I present you with the evidence
The answer to the question

Don’t give a fuck about the flowers
Don’t give a fuck about the bees
Don’t give a fuck about you
And I definitely don’t give a fuck about me

I’m just fucking with you all
Silly girls shouldn’t play with guns
Broken hearts are for your children
The ones left dead in the dumpsters
Too sick to get the rest out of my head
What was it I was beginning to say
Something about wishing you away
These thoughts they come and go
Though they always seem to stay in place
Big boys don’t cry they tear your heart out
Broken psyches are pointless after forty-five

Bathed in blood I could use a hug
From the person, I used to be

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You’d think after two hundred of these things… I would have something to just cut and paste… or copy and paste if you’re nasty… or if you are like me… too lazy to hit backspace… feeling at odds with myself… not lost… not standing in place… only going with the random thoughts in my head… This post didn’t end where I thought it would… satisfied none the less… turning the lights on and off… haunted with the madness coursing through my veins… sometimes it works… and sometimes it doesn’t… I guess that’s the point of going off the deep in… 

AmazonThreadless… if you don’t already know… these are the places I house my soul… 

Broken Thoughts

It’s hard to think of the world as though it is not infinite or that I’m not important. To make the distinction that there is the world and there is me. More often than not we think that if we die that is it. End of the line, end of the world. But this is untrue and I know it. Yet, it is hard for me to comprehend at times. I still plan and plot my actions as though the whole world depends on them, but it doesn’t and I don’t.
Confliction of thought
Dismissal of war
We go at each other as if there is nothing left
Destroy what isn’t yours, hearts
Destroy everything we think you care for, homes
Destroy ourselves in the process
Not the thought
Driving against the weak
Grinding it out without a second thought
Do you ever feel like you are at the end of a relationship and you are only riding it out until the end? You don’t know what to do or what to say. Staying silent seems to be the only way. Even though you know it is wrong. Been stuck there for days, weeks, years, I don’t know anymore.
How is it that some people can get away with so much shit
Yet I need a saddle so they can ride me into the ground
I’m so sick of this place
So sick of being here
An insane asylum with big red letters
Bleeding out, slowly bleeding off
They want so much, yet nothing at all
I can’t let go of all my thoughts
Big or small they all run on
How is it that some people can just move on with so much shit
Yet I have to carry it all the way to the grave
I’m so sick of this identity
So sick of being me
Nothing is ever enough and they’ll take it all

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Mixed bag of thoughts this week… patched together set of emotions… letting the words breathe… letting the words do the talking this week…

Checking in on what I have been up to… AmazonThreadless

Broken Soul

Even when we try to let it go
It goes nowhere, but straight to the heart
Wearing myself thin, dead skin mask
Stretched so tight, who am I supposed to be
If I can’t be you
Envision myself to be better
Lies I tell myself to get by
Broken boned and everything I despise
Two more days and I’ll be okay
Keep telling myself the same old shit
Beating my head against the wall
Soon all the thoughts will flow out
Soon all that is wrong will be right again

Today was the day we died
We said we hadn’t
But I guess I lied
Smiled all the same
No one missed the exit
But no one knows where it is
Makes it easier
I guess
Take the next right
Hope for the best
Spiraling out into a fire
Wrecked that shit so hard
No one knows what it is
They are even looking at
Given up to give in
Makes sense in the end
Go ahead and give it
What it needs
Too much thought wasted
On what is and what could have been
I think, I do, but who knows
Dancing in the ashes of our souls
What happens when we’ve all gone to hell?
I can’t have a pity party
Every time you feel depressed
I’m running out of cake and shit to say

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digging through the past… to understand how I feel in the present… finding inspiration in nothing… hard to be inspired by all the shit around me… have a wonderful day… 

 

Need Your Help…Special Weekend Post

Chewing on Glass needs your help… I need a soul transplant… anyone willing to trade should know that the dark cloud doesn’t roll on through over here… just kidding… I do need your help though… each and every one of you… 

I need your help with tags… I know Soren and Fox… found my blog because of the tag Dark… I’m not looking to spam a certain tag… or take over a random one that has nothing to do with my writing… 

What are some good tags?… What do you look for in a tag?… Are my tags just fine and I’m obsessing over nothing?… How did you discover this blog?… Are tags just a waste of time?…

I feel like I am missing out on finding new readers and things to read because I am focusing too much on one outlet… rather than expanding my horizons… if you have any suggestions on some blogs I should be reading… that would be awesome too… (Very aware that is what Reader is for… but I’d rather check something out from you than an algorithm… as helpful as they may be…) 

If you have the time… I’d love to hear from you in the comments… and thank you for taking the time… 

 

Broken Thoughts

Her pain is internal, long lasting, and forever. It is a constant as rich as her words. Nothing seems to make her happy anymore. She is lost. In a place, I can no longer find. It is as though from time to time she has an out of body experience. An external meltdown where she is no longer here or there.

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I’m writing this from my grave
It’s in my head but that’s okay
Some days I wish it would all go away
Others for it to never end
Blessing and a curse
I just don’t understand why it has to hurt
The writing is on the wall
But I’m happy to watch it all fall
Sliding down into the abyss
A long dark descent into shit
Blessing and a curse
I just don’t understand why it has to be this way
The words are sprawled against my chest
But I’m happy to watch it all settle in
“We spend most of our lives just glancing. Glancing at the thought or idea of something better.”

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Promoting something… Promoting my soul… Promoting something I don’t know… 

Post Script of the Unimaginative

I can see her crying. Tears stream down her face like open rivers with no place to go. She is but a stranger in a sea of them. She is different. She stands out as her tears fall to the ground. No one pauses to help her. A glance and they keep on going. Beyond my very own observation, I am no better. I don’t care. We are all dying inside. One step from our tears joining together.

Her tears only spell weakness in a world so harsh watching someone die seems to be the real past time. Why should I care about her and her problems? I don’t know her and I don’t really care to get to know her. She keeps on moving and I keep sitting. The world turns even in deep sadness. Judgment past in but an instant. Not enough thoughts in my mind to care anymore.

We all live in our own perfect tragedies. Incentivised by our very own pain. Layer after layer added until it becomes too much to bare. Crushing under the defeat of our own simple emotions. We create so much pain to dwell on. When in reality nothing beyond what is in front of you matters.

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We often overlook true pain even when it is staring us right in the face… It wasn’t my place to ask what was wrong… Maybe I could have helped her?… Maybe she didn’t need my help?… No idea… But it was enough for past me to dwell on as I waited for my bus… 

ThreadlessAmazon… You know while you are waiting… Something to pass the time… 

A Lie Preview

And I’m Back Again

The woman plops down every sex toy we have in the store, which isn’t much but she has managed to find every single one we offer. She’s found every single lubricant, every vibrating touch, she even brought up every men’s vibrating razor, and every battery to back them up. There is now a large pile of cherry, pineapple, warming, and her pleasure lubricants I now have to sort through piled up next to my register. I can’t lie and say that this doesn’t happen often because it does, but this has to be the largest assortment I have ever had to ring up. The woman gives me a look that says I don’t give a fuck. “What are you doing after work,” she asks? “Busy,” is all I can muster to her question. She’s not bad looking even for her age, but I have no interest in women right now. I already have too many problems to deal with in my life. “That’s too bad,” she sighs. “We could have had a good time,” she says. I nod my head to show her that I am listening. She isn’t even bothered that I turned her down. I know I am no catch or even that attractive, but it stings slightly in my cold dead heart that she doesn’t even care that I want nothing to do with her. “I’m dying,” she says out of nowhere as if this is something strangers say to each other every day. I start to bag up her purchases. “I have this fucked up cancer. Doctors say a couple of months and I’m dead. So, I decided what the hell I’m going to go on a trip. I’m going to go all around the United States and I’m going to have sex with anyone that has the slightest interest in me.” I have to admit that her desperation is turning me on a little bit, but I just nod my head again as if this is an acceptable response to what she has told me. “Figure I wasted most of my life being the conservative type and in the end, I’ll only die alone. So, who cares about what there is on the other side waiting for me if I already wasted this life so far,” tears start to form in her eyes. Truth be told I have no idea what to say to this lady. Inside I am dying, but inside she is truly dying. She hands me the money as we stand in silence. “You might want to get some condoms,” I finally say. She laughs as I hand her the change and tears fall from her cheeks. She takes the bags of supplies and begins to walk out of the store. I tell her good luck as she leaves.

My night went from bad to worse and most of it was all my fault. Have I rationalized suicide as an easy way out or am I really as fucked up as I think? I am confused about what I want and how things should be. A sheltered life has left me wondering if there’s something more or am I really living all there is to live. My lifelong depression kicks in and despite all my self-medicating I sulk the rest of the night wondering what or where it is that I went wrong. As if life is based on actual roads and at some point I just took a wrong turn, and all I need to do is turn around. I’m back here again, but what if I never left this place, to begin with? What if I never took a wrong turn I only got stuck in the mud? I still have time. I could still get out and make the right choice or even the wrong one but at least I wouldn’t be here. Where I am right now. I hate when I get like this. It’s like my mind gets so murky and sludge like that my thoughts make no sense to me, but yet I can’t shut them off. Even with the drugs, it’s like my thoughts are stuck in my head. I start to regret everything I have ever done or thought or felt and realize that no amount of regret can undo anything in a lifetime. Life is nothing more than an unfair existence and a waste of time. I could kill myself right now but what would be the point? What would I really be saying if I did it now right here stuck in the middle of nothing? All I would be saying is that I am weak, that I am pointless, and I don’t believe that I am any of these things at all. I may not be a good person by definition but I am not a bad person either. I’ve spent too much of my life on the line and just like that lady I fear that one day there will be nothing that actually defines me. Other than words like waste, pointless, and regret. Too many thoughts in my head.

 

Yes… she is a reference to the same woman in Fight Club by Chuck Palahniuk… I’m not ashamed that I took something from someone I admire… we all take something from someone… if you haven’t read Fight Club… please do… though Survivor is a much better book… the kind of book I wish I could write but Chuck already did it… asshole… 

We’ve got shirts available over at Threadless… books written by an asshole over on Amazon… but I’m sure you are all linked out by now… haha… 

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