Walking In On Broken Thoughts

Puking into the bucket that is an anagram for thoughts once thought. It becomes too much of a hassle to explain everything when no one is listening. A plastic veil hidden behind us all. A wall built up tall. Thinking has only gotten no one anywhere. A thought, a moment in time, a feeling left behind. Broken sentences lead to broken thoughts. We are told that grammar is important, necessary even narcissistic. When you’ve been able to keep up so far then we may be one and the same. Such a sad day. The pain of the dragging razor makes all of this seem okay. When none of it could ever really be that way. The repeated anal penetration was fun for a minute, but now there is too much tearing and it’s starting to hurt.

Life still has many more tricks left up its sleeve, but I have to admit I don’t have any more compassion for this shit. An endless loop of all the things that I will have to do later today. Maybe it is time to switch to my knees. Begging for mercy while taking it from both ends. They say God cares, answers prayers, but how could anyone ever know until the end?

A suicidal mission with little sense of fulfillment. A cautionary tale to not believe all the bull shit presented to you. The words become filled with lies the more you read them. The more you worship them. The more you know I was right, but you’ll never see that, that wasn’t the point all along. Fuck God and fuck you for making me say it. Condemned myself so you’d understand. Condemned myself to have an excuse for all of this.

And Other Things From This Time Preview

Survival Instinct

I can smell the new smell of death
Disgusting, digesting, fermenting
Or is it the smell of day old oil
I’m unsure as unclassified as one can be
I break into the vault only to find that it’s all gone
Nothing is ever what it seems
Yet I sit and sit waiting for something new
Each day a tiny, little bit of a disappointment
I forgot what it means to say
I forgot what it’s called
But I’m sick of waiting

I can hear a voice calling my name
Obnoxious, horrid, abstentious
Or is it someone screaming for help
I’m unsure as uncommunicable as one can be
I walked into the wrong area only to find that they had all moved on
Everything is always what it seems
Each minute a tiny, little bit of disappointment
I forgot what it means to see
I forgot what it was that I saw
But I’m sick of always wondering

I can see a figure in the distance
Disfigured, distracting, dismembered
Or is it only me from the shadows
I’m unsure as unbelievable as that could be
I destroyed every mirror only to learn there was never an image
Nothing is ever what it seems
Each second a tiny, little bit of a disappointment
I forgot what it means to be
I forgot what it was that I heard
But I’m sick of never knowing

Will Know

Dancing through the darkness
Hands and feet in the air
Car wrecked left vacant
With little despair
You blame me, I blame them
Who are they
Strangers once now equals
I thought I knew myself
Thought all things were all there
Bits and pieces
Scrapped from the road
Can’t get it all
But the vultures will know
Picking and scratching at the meat
Of my mind
Had I only wished it was me
That has died

Yeah, But What is He Trying to Say?

The table sticks to the page
But the words are falling right off
Maybe I never had it at all
Maybe it was all just a lie built up in my head
Reality is nothing more than what we pretend to portray
Liars, little liars we are
Pretending to know when really we don’t know at all
Is any of this really English or is it all made up?
I don’t know you tell me in your own made up language
The words dictate the feel of everything it really means
Sentence and structure makes no sense
When you hold everything up to a lens
But we over analyze everything anyways
The answer is fuck you encase you missed the point
Your coloring book must be filled up
If you really think I care
By the way Hitler wants his mannerisms back
Because he said they are over played
Yeah I can be witty and mean at the same time
Welcome to the conversation, not that your opinion
Matters at this point