dreams look better, but dreams themselves are merely hollow. random action leads to disaster. right now, i suppose that i am too full of a pretentious self. hollowing myself out will have to do - if i can even do that.

I am a rather stupid dipshit. It is true, after all, you sent me to them fuckin' elite schools and all I ever did was bum around and pretend that I was smart when I was just an insipid pretender ( Read more... )

Happiness, it comes to you in the singularity of awareness ( Read more... )

i will not be nothing.
i am not like you. fuck you and your perfect day.
i will be your fucking calamity and your devil.

that's what i said, of course.
tooting my evil little horn.
but the second i dug with my dirty claws
the villainy of your kind strangled me in its filth.

i have to be unbreakable.
if not, i am nothing.

God has officially dealt me the short hand here ( Read more... )

it's too difficult to establish an idea of how i really feel these days. the circuits are crossing to the point that the ambiguity doesn't even make sense anymore. i suppose it was bound to happen when you've been crossed too many times.

when even words cannot find expression, either you paint... or let the thoughts die.

fully armed with the eccentricities of the devil,
aware of every nuance of temptation,
of the challenge to my ideologies,
i say unto you, bring me peace.

i may not be worth salvation, but do i deserve hell?

i am the inferior snowflake that melts in the corner and endures this fallacy of an education while people dream and have wonderful lives somewhere on the other side of the earth and i thought i was on the other side but not so very true anymore now that i know that they will always be on the other side and i have nothing but my shitty grades and ( Read more... )

the disease is spreading and life is losing all meaning. isn't there anything on this damned earth that can put a real smile on my face?

perhaps i've remained captive in black-and-white Avalon while the rest of you are lolling in the multicolour Real World.

that voice whispering softly, that ambivalent narrator...
what manner of cause are you?

a lust for power?

these needs, these drives are insatiable - they consume endlessly and will not be quelled with a single magnificent conquest. nothing in this world can encompass enough change that will stay the hand of our migrant nature.