All this will soon be a Distant Memory
All of this will soon be a distant memory.
Staring into the breeze as I blankly put potato chips in my mouth, I wonder what is going on inside of me. I can see discord, complacency, and true horror and sorrow at who I am being these days.
I am lost. My head swimming, I cannot see any longer. I can only see the gloom that is my heart. It is swallowed in, crumpled like paper in my wastebasket. I see my body, as delicate and good as it ever was, soiled by the hands of men that never deserved a second glance from me. I see my mind torn apart by the battle of morality and the dirty terrible deeds I have indulged in. I see the blood red of my fingertips, and wonder whose hands they are, wonder where they came from.
I am dead. I know my heart is beating, but I don't feel it anymore. I know my lungs still work, but I don't care anymore. I feel the last stretches of life still trying to feel, still struggling to survive, but I have lost all the will I once had. I am dead and I do not know how to come back to life, I do not know how to regain my self again. How to understand love again.
I am crying. I don't know where these tears are coming from, and what to do to make them stop. With every beat my heart squeezes them out of my eyes, and my eyes strain to hold them back. The pain is only a breath of a reminder that I must be sad. The world still moving around me, I stare blankly ahead, feeling the pain of my eyes.
But I know that soon... all of this will only be a distant memory. One day the time will come when I look back, reach deep and still can hardly remember the day I took lunch to meet a guy in a parking garage to tug on his tiny dick, for 200 bucks. And the disgusting feeling afterwards of not knowing where he just walked off to. Left in a stuffy sketchy parking garage with the silent watching cars. With no end to justify the means.
The purity of the world looks sadly at me. It knows that the goodness that it is made of is the same thing that I was born from, it knows that I could stand with it, and that I belong there... but I don't. I have grown into a dank calculating creature. I have grown into a vessal that has no faith in my future. With no faith in love, or most of all anyone's ability to love who I have become. Dark. Depraved. Desperate. Desolute.
I want to scream. Scream into a long tunnel. Release.
I want to be rescued from myself. I want to be wisked away, thrown in front of a beautiful man riding a horse and galloped away. I want to be saved. I want to fall into someones arms and die. I want to sacrifice my soul, tear this pain out of my chest, and let go. Forget the dirtiness that I feel like I have become. Fall asleep and wake up in a field far away from the rest of the world. Drown out all the voices praying on my mind.
But soon, I think, as I put another greasy salt ladden potato chip in my mouth. Soon, this will all be a distant memory.
Staring into the breeze as I blankly put potato chips in my mouth, I wonder what is going on inside of me. I can see discord, complacency, and true horror and sorrow at who I am being these days.
I am lost. My head swimming, I cannot see any longer. I can only see the gloom that is my heart. It is swallowed in, crumpled like paper in my wastebasket. I see my body, as delicate and good as it ever was, soiled by the hands of men that never deserved a second glance from me. I see my mind torn apart by the battle of morality and the dirty terrible deeds I have indulged in. I see the blood red of my fingertips, and wonder whose hands they are, wonder where they came from.
I am dead. I know my heart is beating, but I don't feel it anymore. I know my lungs still work, but I don't care anymore. I feel the last stretches of life still trying to feel, still struggling to survive, but I have lost all the will I once had. I am dead and I do not know how to come back to life, I do not know how to regain my self again. How to understand love again.
I am crying. I don't know where these tears are coming from, and what to do to make them stop. With every beat my heart squeezes them out of my eyes, and my eyes strain to hold them back. The pain is only a breath of a reminder that I must be sad. The world still moving around me, I stare blankly ahead, feeling the pain of my eyes.
But I know that soon... all of this will only be a distant memory. One day the time will come when I look back, reach deep and still can hardly remember the day I took lunch to meet a guy in a parking garage to tug on his tiny dick, for 200 bucks. And the disgusting feeling afterwards of not knowing where he just walked off to. Left in a stuffy sketchy parking garage with the silent watching cars. With no end to justify the means.
The purity of the world looks sadly at me. It knows that the goodness that it is made of is the same thing that I was born from, it knows that I could stand with it, and that I belong there... but I don't. I have grown into a dank calculating creature. I have grown into a vessal that has no faith in my future. With no faith in love, or most of all anyone's ability to love who I have become. Dark. Depraved. Desperate. Desolute.
I want to scream. Scream into a long tunnel. Release.
I want to be rescued from myself. I want to be wisked away, thrown in front of a beautiful man riding a horse and galloped away. I want to be saved. I want to fall into someones arms and die. I want to sacrifice my soul, tear this pain out of my chest, and let go. Forget the dirtiness that I feel like I have become. Fall asleep and wake up in a field far away from the rest of the world. Drown out all the voices praying on my mind.
But soon, I think, as I put another greasy salt ladden potato chip in my mouth. Soon, this will all be a distant memory.
posted by sheloves at 1:30 PM
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