raileus: (Default)
Settled in my skin and rest these tired bones,
find comfort in such an uncomfortable world.

Skip a beat; heart loses it's rhythm.
The mind; loses it's thoughts,
and when the self is all but gone,
only the idea remains.
raileus: (Default)
Hand me this cup and expect me not to drink from it, should I also not take a bite of that apple in front of my face?

So when beaten; why be so surprised that I bleed?
For however humanless I feel; I still suffer like the rest of you.

So of course I seek escapism,
what do you expect?
If you have nothing but the places your mind takes you, you would want to escape too.
raileus: (Default)
All the songs are gone, all the music notes are empty,
there's no birds, there's no wings to fly,
there's no blue sky just a fake one,
the smile is a lie, and so am I.

You're not gonna fill this heart,
or grow this soul,
or stretch this mind.

I won't be tall like the trees,
or glow like gold,
I won't be deep like the sea,
or grand like the sands of Karakum.

And when it is over, it is over, nothing that I am will be standing, only words left on a page.
raileus: (Default)
Who is to know; that which is my own truth?
Who is to say; that which is within my own skin?
What could I give; that is greater than myself?
What part of me; holds weight greater than that of gold?
Who is to blame; if I don't measure up?
What if I am not everything that my dreamer dreamed that I would be?
What risk have I taken to reach myself?
How many more steps can I have?
How many more falls?
What will be the last word I hear?
What will be my last dream within this one?
What will be the last thought I have?
Will I be sad about it in the end?
When I am no longer me, and am weightless?
raileus: (Default)
No balance,
No scales,
No freedom,
No will.

No justice,
No peace,
No unity,
No dream.

No hope,
No change,
No forgiveness,
No way.

No future,
No rights,
No statements,
No life.
raileus: (Default)

If I smile today;
would that make me happy?

If I smile tomorrow;
would that add value to the day?

What could be measured; that would create worth?
or what would be worth the cost of each day's suffering?

What pleasure is worthwhile; that I am so willing to endure another day of scars?

What joys outweigh the sicknesses?
What memories outweigh the pain?
What wonders can I witness?
Is there anything that will justify my existence?
raileus: (Default)
I ask not for the light; that my eyes have seen since I was born.

Nor of the darkness; that my soul knows from this cruel world.

But I seek; nothingness, that my weary spirit should finally rest, no longer knowing my coming or my going, my up from my down.

Not a thing should I know, nor shall I be.
And this is the afterlife I seek.
raileus: (Default)
I feel inconsolable,
you ask me if I want to die,
I can't lie,
I'm having a hard time just fighting
to try to stay alive.

I feel only a deep despair,
I know you can see it inside my heart,
I beg you to let me go,
I feel I can no longer cope with the world.

I dreamed I was a child again,
and you were my best friend,
just playing and laughing again,
where I am not in the state that I am.

I said I can't give you my heart,
for my heart isn't in anything anymore,
only death is what I dream.
My reasoning, and my decision is sure, I continue to ask you, it is the only thing I repeat.
raileus: (Default)
I got death in my pocket,
holding onto it like an uno reverse card,
as if I could change anything I've done now.
I need to figure out what I want my life to be, cause if
I don't I'll end up at the end of a long bottle or a needle, that's for sure.

I said I didn't want to repeat the mistakes of my parents, but I still do as they did.

I hold onto music like it's in my blood, songs and writers are my escape.

I don't know what I want to leave this world, I just know it's not me that should be heard.

There is a bigger message; there is something for the world, I just wonder how many scars it took.

For things to get better, for people to understand, that we are more than our bodies, more than our images projected outwards, it should be understood.

And how many gods died to give you this word?

That peace is more important than a dollar symbol, that unity should be the final word.
raileus: (Default)

It's hard to find any positivity within my life.
I am surrounded by darkness, and every time I find even the smallest glimmer of light, it is ripped away from me.
My smile is torn away from my face.
As is my sleep, my routine, and my hope.

Tell me what is there?
But death to wish for?
When everything else is just pain, suffering and insanity.
Just induced insomnia because no one cares to let me sleep.

Waking at ungodly hours, but I am the one called a demon.
They leave me with nothing but anger, and I will not repeat myself.

Tell me what's the point in trying for better, when everything around me is rotten?
Am I supposed to be a diamond among the trash?
Wasteful.

Now why should I care if nothing else does?
What does freedom mean to me, if I am without peace?
Am I to continue to play nice?
Until what?
Until I break?
Fall?
Or until my head cracks beyond repair?

Will death not claim me before I am no longer me, before it's too late to spare even the demons?
Yes well, hell is hell I guess; either way I go; the fork in the road doesn't matter.

raileus: (Default)
If my sorrow could be contained, what would it's cylinder be?

A cup of tears?
A bucket of despair?
A pool of melancholy?

Perhaps it cannot be contained nor counted, perhaps it is as vast as the desert, or as deep as the sea.
As many as the rocks of this earth,
or as overwhelming as the hight of the tallest trees.

And yet for all of it's grandeur, it exists in me; a small meek being of no significance.
And it; this everlasting thing that I doubt will die, even when I am gone.
raileus: (Default)
I laid by the bedside and to the self destruction inflicted upon my own self, split as I am; into one who wants to live, and the other who doesn't.
And darkness kisses the faces of the dead, but the sun hugs the faces of the one's who live.
Eidetic isn't it?
The dark ones like us who see it?
I am not hermetic in the words I say, for if you understand it; then there is no mysticism.
But I would be belied if I didn't admit that it is esoteric.

My life is surely hermetic, it is not at all aesthetically pleasing,there is nothing well-favored here, anyone who understands the death I speak of must at least quaver with their own reason about it.

Blanknote

Apr. 9th, 2025 01:34 pm
raileus: (Default)

It's weird and I suppose with the number of people in this world, there must be others who feel the same way, but it still just feels like it's only me going through this, at least in this small corner of the world.

Lately I wake up feeling like a blank note of paper, nothing written upon me at all, no feelings about it,
just walking around empty and tired, regardless of how much sleep I get.

Drinking coffee doesn't seem to change anything much.
I can't seem to find anything to hold onto, even though I continue to look for something.
I'll make a list if I have things to do, I'll get most done if it has to be today, but I might as well be a robot, nothing feels real.

I don't have anything to look forward to,but again I am looking.
I can't find anything to be excited about, and bed keeps calling my name.

Everything isn't this awful, I mean some things have gotten better.
I tend to feel this way regardless of how my life is actually going.
Everything is always a dumpster fire to me, its just sometimes; life adds lighter fluid.

But the blankness is new, it feels like I am still asleep, and when I notice it; it is then that I notice how strange everything else feels.
Like I am watching myself like a movie, an autopilot that I am aware of.
Watching through a window but I am not apart of it.
More episodes of detachment I guess?
Yet it feels different somehow.

raileus: (Default)
We are not free.
From the moment we take our first breath, we are bound and weighed by our shell, to its needs, to its every whim.

Suffering is the art of life, and we are its painter.
Death is only a means to an end, when the masterpiece is finished.
raileus: (Default)
They say when death calls
you can't hang up.

When it's your time, it's your time.

I grew up with a lot of old timey sayings, ideas and superstitions.
There was always this sense of fate, of things being written, whether you believed it to be by god or not.

There was always this idea that somethings will happen no matter what you do.
That freedom can only walk so far.

I'm not sure if I believe in fate, or anything else for that matter.
But I do know that everything has It's limits, sooner or later this life will find mine.

I do tend to feel at times angry or like I've been cheated out of life, when I think about all the things I'll never see, or get to do.

But most of the time; I feel like I did what I needed to do.

I found myself, who I really am, a non binary, non gender confirming being.
I worked through years of trauma as I unlocked my memories, I busted my butt off on healing and forgiveness for myself and my inner child.
I did more in half a year than some people do in a lifetime.

That's not to say that I'm not sad about it, as I am always on that side of things.
But there is a peace to it too, like I did what I was meant to do.
I survived, that's all I needed to do.

I write for the future generations now, maybe a hundred years from now;
something I said will change someone else's life.

I do know that nothing is forever, but death and taxes as they say.
But perhaps our creations of words and songs cannot be called away, perhaps those things are forever too.
raileus: (Default)
What eyes are these?
They look outwards to a world that I am not a part of.

And is this my mind struck with fear?
as if lightning had hit something nearby.

Am I not more than the sum of such parts?
Parts that are here today and gone tomorrow?

Why should I fear becoming what I was born to become?

Death isn't a loss, it is a transformation.

Perhaps it is pain that I fear, yet I don't feel this, I am not a part of such worldly things, no I am removed from such, pain is only a curtain call for a show.

But I am alone, I play this alone, a butterfly's wings never seen.
An opera with no singer,
A song with no words,
A movie that plays only to me.

And I am the director and the star.

raileus: (Default)
There's absolutely no benefit in me dreaming of anything, wanting anything, or complaining about what I don't have, nor the treatment inflicted upon me.
My outcries change nothing.

Still I suppose I can't help but entertain myself sometimes with magical creations of my mind, the idea of being wisked away to another world, or having magical powers, or going on an amazing adventure with some odd ball friends, perhaps a wizard.

Moments however small where I entertain my inner child, a child alone, sad, and missing.
raileus: (Default)

Dark my days,
Dark my nights,
Dark my soul has lost its light.

Dark my dreams,
Dark this being,
Dark its heart now lost its sheen.

Into the nothing,
Into the void,
Into the space,
Now what are you looking for?

Death to thoughts,
and death to dreams,
Death to hope for better things.

Death to me, my and I,
Death to self and things of mine,
Death to pain, anger and hate,
Death to death now there is no escape.
raileus: (Default)

Kill my feelings,
Destroy my hate,
Eat up my sorrow,
And release my pain.

Rest my brain,
Rest my heart,
Rest this skin with it's scars,
Then rest these eyes from it's cries,
It seems I'll long for death all my life.
raileus: (Default)

I tend to oscillate from sadness to anger real quickly.
That is if I feel anything at all.

Then there are days where there is just emptiness or numbness, a complete indifference to it all, and those are my good days.

My only comfort besides writing has been my thoughts, however dark.
The thought that my suffering is not forever, that everything comes to an end sooner or later.
The thought I have every night, the one that stays with me; maybe this time when I close my eyes it will finally be over, and I won't open them again.

I just feel like I am waiting on the ending of this book, the final chapter of this absurd drama, the last song in this sick soundtrack that is my life.

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