Death Ideation: The Scary Part is Youth

Teeth, face, eyes. What torture.

Draw your sword and bury it in my gut.
I am in a pit not of my own digging; I wish to free myself, not to escape and walk on level ground with the rest of society but rather, to be buried in it.

Tears. Death. Blog. What emptiness.
Unplug me from it all.
I have lived in half, quarter measures,
I wish to switch off completely.
Not fight inevitability.


Maybe our hands will meet Tristesse

I feel weird for enjoying sad movies, music, books. Really dark and doom orientated content.

Why do I enjoy melancholy?:

Maybe it’s because they agree with the reality constantly surrounding us; the unflattering certainty of the definite infinities to come that’ll BE without this very present and all its inhabitants as the Past is no longer in a Here and Now it used to partake in. Poor dinosaurs. (Confusionist)

I love minor keys. I love quiet (not silent) movies. I love minimalist (vignette) books.

The truth is, there is nothing enjoyable about sadness; but in a world full of contradiction and lies and turning a blind eye… The overwheling emotion of truth; found in a B-minor sonata or a hopeless movie with a pages’ worth of dialogue, – brings the real world to the fore of the brain and sometimes this is more beautiful than most of the distractions which hide it all.


Awkward Blogger out.