What can I say?

Bullshit's been framed in an off-center way.
Don't know what I mean? Just look at today.
Fighting for things that aren't quite clear,
While preaching that the end of a riddle is near?
It smells like fear in a shallow grave,
But it tastes like freedom when the right song plays.

The distortion's so great that I can't sleep,
The noise beats loudly from languid feet,
And I don't know where the two lines meet.
It's so profane that it's killing me.

I can stand alone underneath a starry sky,
To feel the way I do when I can kiss the world goodbye.
But all I can do is stand, isolated, and calmly take the blows,
And wonder why, when I need it, that door is always closed.

I am my father's son...

When things get too much to bear, there is only one way to escape: To separate. And that's what I'm going to do.

It's like the way a word has no meaning if you repeat it over and over again. When I see myself in the mirror, that's all I feel. So redundant and bland... Like I'm just staring at the wall.

Every day, it's the same thing. I wake up, I interact, and I come home. I sit in this chair, and I feel my world retract back to solitude.

Then, I feel like I can't take it anymore, and I seek counsel. I start taking medication, and I hate the feeling, so I stop. I say to myself that I don't need it. And I slowly go crazy all over again.

Living in these cycles is killing me. Living itself is killing me. There's always a solution... but how long have I been looking already?

I've been at the brink of breaking under stress for so many years it's scary. The anxiety never stops, because I'm running my life straight into the ground. It's so easy to speak of change... but it's beyond the physical. It's not about that shit anymore. It's too deep, too basic to be about those things. I don't have the ability to calm myself down anymore, because every time I do, it starts all over again...

And no one understands or relates to a word I say. In everyone's eyes, I'm going to spew nonsense until I disappear for some unknown, trivial reason. But that's fine with me. I wouldn't even know where to begin.

I keep my head on tight...

So what would you do, if you saw someone decline, saw someone die... and started to realize that you're heading down the same path? It doesn't matter if it takes one year or fifty, The result is the same.

There's a box, sitting on my desk. It's been there for years. Before I had this desk, it was on the one before it. Inside, there are old, dried rose petals. It's a memory of my first true love... obviously not true. It reminds me that no matter where I go or what I do, I'll be by myself. As much as I try, I'll always be misinterpreted, taken advantage of or used and ignored. Looking at it frustrates me, but I've never moved it. I guess it's like keeping a photo of a dead loved one on your table.

I'm inundated with crazy associations like this, But I don't want to feel this way anymore. I don't want to feel like I'm always having something ripped out of me. It's all I can think about. My life has been taken from me by other people: My father, people I've called my friends and people I've given my heart to.

Every day since then, I'm beginning to understand more and more why she did what she had to.

Waiting for something that'll never arrive...

To "win" life, you must take what's "yours", sieze what you deem necessary.

Every aspect of our modern lives is based on manipulating our surroundings. You date a girl, you'd better know what to say and what not to say. People have taken behavior itself and turned it into an open market. We live in a very sick world. To know that everything you see in front of you is manipulated by someone else... what's left?

I have a hard time believing that many people value the weight of an idea. Society is filled with stray cats that will eat whatever is left out for them. In carving my own path, I noticed how uniform it all is.

American Politics are a good example. It isn't about the truth, it's what is presented. Running a country like a business is degrading our sense of justice, our ideals, and our individualistic self-worth.

But life is unfair like that. Those bold enough to rape, succeed. Suck a person dry, and you're better for it; they're quickly forgotten. All you need to do is spin it correctly.

I never pretend to hold myself higher than others; I loathe a lot of things about myself. But that is what it means to be a learning, sentient thing: To grow, through hatred or sadness, through pleasure or self-destruction.

If I run my life into the ground, it's my choice. I'm called unmotivated, lazy, stupid and selfih. People who don't even know the meaning of survival look down on me for falling apart.

One night, I shot a lot of heroin. I planned to go until I couldn't, until my heart stopped. Does this make me suicidal and undeserving of life? I wanted to... because it was all I felt I had left. A part of me died, a person close to me had died recently. This was a person I had held in my heart for a long time... A strange, surreal chapter of my life. She ended her own life, and the reason why scares the hell out of me. She was in the same boat as me, in a circular current of loneliness and insanity, building up to a fatal climax. She didn't do it because she was sad, she did it because she wanted everything to stop. How far down do you have to be to adapt to this way of thinking? I certainly want the world to stop more often than not.

It's ridiculous to say that she was suicidal. She loved life... but she couldn't win. To do something so drastic just for peace of mind... I can relate.

I can never find the words to explain what she meant to me. I won't ever even understand my own feelings about her. I have a lot of things like that... a lot of insanity I've pushed down. The end result is that I know full well how valuable life is, and who the fuck wants to squander it on earthly, temporary progress? I've always been passionate about what I love. I can sharpen an idea for hours, but all I have around me is stupidity... a strain of thinking that can't appreciate what it means to fight.

Climb out of your empty box alone...

It takes a lot to disassemble the structure of right and wrong. To see life as a chain of events rather than a battle between good and evil is hard to do. More than anything else, people are animals. We are built by behavior, wired to circumvent the things we keep inside; the deep dark secrets.

Everyone has them. I used to be able to look past them for a chance to change my outcome. Now, it seems like it's all the same. I'm floating motionless in the water, letting the waves move my body for me. Everything that comes, good or bad... I don't really care anymore. It's nothing more than a distraction.

I feel bitter towards people who don't know what it's like to lose. Those blindfolded drones who have everything handed to them, are they having an easier time than me?

I've learned that you can never reveal the truth of your emotions unless you want to be trivialized. I've learned that I can never escape the inside of my mind, and it will always seek a way to distance myself as far from other people as possible.

Some days I'm amazed at how life works out. Every day seems to mock me in some small way. But, I've grown used to being the spectre in the corner who hides behind a cloak of false enthusiasm.

There is an appeal to that kind of role for some people... the silent loner. A lot of people act it because they don't know what it's like to feel separated from reality. No matter what I do, I'm stuck in that position. All the fucking idiots who imitate passionate emotions with an exaggerated presentation... I hope they learn what it's like to live inside of darkness. I hope they are built up and wrecked in such a profane way that it sends their minds reeling. I wish that more people understood these things, understood what it means to appreciate life. I know it sounds like I don't, but I do... I just don't have many more chances.

A corpse is a corpse...

On these warm nights, I feel relaxed. Something about the weather coerces me to reflect on the past... And I can't help but telling myself, "What have I done to deserve what I've ended up with?"

I got stupid. I reached a point in my life that was surrounded by apathy. I went overboard so many times. I threw away everything about myself, all the things I had built principles from. In this haze, I don't feel like myself anymore.

I just want something to turn out right... Just one thing. Something that tells me I'm not always going to be this lonely. Some sign that I'm not already as good as dead. I'm completely worthless as a person; I'm just... me. Sometimes, I think that I could die tomorrow, and it wouldn't make a difference... So hopelessly lost.

I can't really connect with anyone anymore. Everything I say is distorted. I remember what it's like to have someone there, someone who listens to me speak straight from my heart. Someone to lie with me in bed all day. I miss that so very much. I miss having someone that I can look at every day and smile.

And I don't think I'm ever going to get it again. Something that doesn't hurt me in some way. I miss being able to share my emotions, my being with someone. And all I can do is feel sorry for myself.

I would give anything to rewind and try again. But I wouldn't deserve that. All I have left is mulling over the past.

Say hello to an enigma of a failure...

Introductions... I don't mind them. It's a chance to take a clean slate and write whatever I want on it. This is the beginning; swallow it like a thread, neverending and unrelenting.

I'm twenty-two. I live in a small town that has been turned into a heaving mass of fuck-upery because of the rapid population growth. I am more than avid about everything I find interesting, and barely paying attention when it's the opposite. I don't take anything beyond my mind very seriously. I've never liked how people as a majority act in this country. The mistake isn't political or philisphical, but behavioral. People delude themselves to no end sometimes.

And I'm sure I do too. I come from a family that lies like it's instinct. But, by being around it so long, I've come to appreciate the visceral, validating feeling of the truth. It doesn't matter how many fantasies someone has, if you don't experience what makes you happy... you're fucked.

That's usually my problem. I look into people and see the polarities, not the gradient. I've been in love too many times to care about it as much, but I still believe in the purity that can be found in true love.

I do too many drugs. I am a huge pothead; I'm high more often than I should be. But it wasn't always like that. I never cared for drugs until there was a reason to do them. They've changed me in a lot of ways... mostly bad ways. But it's who I am, I've accepted it. I want to stop, though, because I have a reason to.

I've been in a lot of strange relationships, mainly because of the lack of connection. This usually evolved into it only being sexual, or just being awkward. I do and say a lot of stupid things, and embarrass myself often. But, I'm pretty good in bed (I am Polish).

I say things that are completely different than what I believe, and I say things that don't make any sense. My mouth is never a guaranteed connection to my brain. This is the puzzle, scattered and unseemly. I'm always staring off, fixated on something intangible. And just beyond that feeling lies a story....