raileus | Entries tagged with thoughts

Summer freaking sucks!
It's too hot, too stinky, and too expensive to enjoy anything.

It's nothing but sunburns and heat waves.
I mean it's even too hot for the pool, the freaking POOL!!!

I don't know about anyone else but summer just depresses me more than any other time of the year.

I mean I love the indoors, AC rules!
I am a real homebody.
But when I need to go shopping, it's freaking hell!
Fine if you have a car, but damn if you have to walk or take the bus,
it becomes a real nightmare!

And there is nothing to do, everything cost more in the summer, ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING goes up in the summer!

And who the heck wants to go to a free concert or outdoor event in 103 degree weather!!?
If the heat doesn't get you,
the bugs sure will.

The only good thing in summer is cold drinks and ice!

Current Mood: cranky
Current Music: The Reflecting God (Live version) by Marilyn Manson.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡
I am detached from me, a being separated from thee.

Thou has cast me into oblivion,
thou has thrown me into the sea.

My stations cannot be counted,
my scars lay unseen.

A darkness that surrounds me, but a death that I will never see.

I am the nightmares of tomorrow,
I am the dreams of today.
I am your love and your sorrow,
the pain that just won't go away.

When lovingness is borrowed,
and words are left unsaid.
I will be the tomorrow that is crowned upon your head.
⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡
Release me from my shadows,
Release me from my pain,
Release me from the darkness of seeing another day.

I only long for death now,
a release from the nightmares that plague me.

Deliver me from my demons,
Deliver me from myself,
Deliver me from my
sadness,
and end this living hell.

Allow me to fall asleep now, just allow me to go,
enter eternal sleep now,
true freedom from this shell.
⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡
Swallowed down the depths of my soul,
like a sickness draining down my throat.
A jagged mirror and lump of coal,
a step too far as I grow old.
I cannot face that inner mirror,
the one that reads "You are not here."

My hourglass has no sand in it, just sunlight burning this candle at both ends.
And they say life is a gift, but death is a blessing.
As dark as it is, it is better to live well with a short amount of time,
then to live many years in misery.
⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

Current Music: Half-Way & One Step Forward by Marilyn Manson.

◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙

⫘⫘⫘⫘

It feels like I am standing outside of myself.
Like I am watching my own existence as an audience member watching a play or TV.

I feel so far removed sometimes that in those moments it feels like an nightmare.
I guess this sense of a lack of control, like I cannot change anything, or the channel.

I am just looking at the script, I am not the director.
It feels so absurd to me that I am in two places at once.

One where I am doing things,
and the other where I am just watching it.

◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙◙

Current Mood: Detached

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
No eyes to be covered,
nor ears to be closed.
No hands to keep to one's self.
No dreams,
only nightmares.
A restless being,
a tattered soul like a flag of old,
he wears his scars like darken coal.

And this death will be his power,
while this pain will be his friend.
Words stand lavish painted upon his skin, decorated like christmas presents,
glorious in the end.

Anger is at the corners of his mouth,
for it is an agony of sins,
and an agony of sorrows.
A breath of fire for tomorrow,
a shot of mottos to begin; his journey into the borrowed moments of meaninglessness.

And there is nothing for today,
just a list for tomorrow.
All while wings sit on his head,
and horns laid there borrowed.
He is both a mighty beast and a loving angel, one can't be satisfied until they have seen the other.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡
I am astonished by the liveliness of the people, their joy shines.
How some can celebrate anything.
Yet I am unable to feel such joy.

I feel only a gratefulness for breathing, for a breath by a systematic system no less.
Everything by design, that I should feel grateful for it, because I am programmed to be so.

But outside of everything else,
there is an emptiness, a shell.
A void and not a space.
For an empty space says there was something there before it.
But a void is always a nothingness upon it.

And I stand in the middle,
between today and tomorrow,
Its love or its sorrow,
Its bitter or its borrowed.

A joy that can not be won, funded nor sold.
Never would there be such a loan.
It seems never given, yet somehow it is already own.

And I shall never know it, a glitter upon the soul.
⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

•••••

What am I lacking?
What necessity or element do I need?

I have so much already.
Surely more than most people I have come across.
Yet I feel depleted of something I have needed, but I am unsure of what that is.

Walking around in an artificial happy daze, or a sickening depressive craze.
Unable to discern what I have become or what I was.

And physical pain changes you, it wakes you up.
But no answers are given as to what I am living.
Like looking through a glass window, watching my life pass by like a commercial, something is always on sale.

I am a doll on a shelf.
Merchandise, commodity,
Collectors item, look and see.
And here lays an artificial thing in an artificial sleep.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Current Mood: Depleted

( You're about to view content that the journal owner has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡
Circling around sleep like a dog that can't get comfortable.
Watching the pain cycle around like a record on repeat.
This is systematic suffering at its best.
Everything by design, nothingness for no reason.
One end of the string to the other, no hands of fate to tie it,
just my unwillingness to repair.
A broken red thread and an empty glass bottle,
a note that I read,
a sadness of tomorrow.

And I cannot choose between my dreams or my nightmares, for it all looks the same to me.
Just "Wishing for death" like a greeting card that I will never see.
Thorn in my side and a sword at my feet,
no apple of the eye, just a broken life.
An endless sea of longing for the things I will never be.
I wish in one hand but I will always want the other.
My words are secret letters to one another.

A soul split, a mind broken in two,
you never think there is another you untill you are shown it.
When the rivers run dry and the sky is golden, I will be glitter rain upon thy shoulders.
⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

Current Mood: Extravagant
Current Location: Limbo
Current Music: Heaven upside down by Marilyn Manson.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

♱♱♱

Feeling you reap me like a death I am owed because I can't stay awake to this world.
Should I choose to become blind?
How do I close up my mind?
Or stop the aching I find?
Putting on a play and watching it as an audience member.
Everything is just a TV screen.
There's no having you without the pain, there's no dreams without the sleep.

I can't say no to an infinity.
Just repeating my sickness,
a candle with no wick left,
I swallowed the only key.
Destroying my inner mirror, no good words are written here.
It is all over my skin; the fear that I mean nothing.
Everything I was is already dead,
I feel like I am watching the world come to an end.

Death went to a ball to dance,
it was a neverending party of regret,
I never left his eyes,
we were dancing all night.
He is the lock to the key I swallowed.
All my dreams of beautiful things are just the nightmares of tomorrow.
Life is wearing a mask of pain,
she is breaking into a million pieces again,
just wishing that I wouldn't fall asleep is all she ever pleated.

So sad that you can't feel the sadness anymore, so broken that you can't feel the break.
Just say that you are not an escape, only an ending, but all I hear you say is come to me.

You know what I want,
You know what I need,
Does this Death ever get lonely?
Why watch this clock wind down?
You are the painter, I will be the canvas.
You are the writer, I will be the words,
You are the rain, I will be the bow.
The greatest gift of the world is an ending to the sorrow of this earth.

Got an itch deep down in my soul,
Want to lose all physical control,
now I am the one inviting this pain.
Heart dancing to your rhythm as I step out of time and existence, and into an apocalypse.
I know you wish you could stop this,
But a sacrifice can't save another sacrifice.
A darkness can't light another darkness.
I can't say no to an infinity.
Just repeating my sickness,
a candle with no wick left.
I sewed what I sowed and
you will reap what you are owed.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

Watch on YouTube

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⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

•••••

The weather was weird today,
the sky looked like it was made of an artificial light,
a weird grayish overcast covered the sky.
Almost like it couldn't decide if it wanted to be sunny,
or dark and rainy.

Listening to my favorite songs on repeat, trying desperately to escape me, my reality and my humanity.

I saw a bunch of dragonflies in one patch of grass,
it was a whole family of dragonflies in one area,
I thought it was odd.

I want to be able to trust myself not to go overboard on anything I do, because I do tend to do too much.
I never know when to say; "when".
I don't know how to quit when I am ahead.

Sometimes nothing feels like it is enough, or by the time I noticed that it is, it is already too much and I am dealing with the after effects.

I saw a squirrel run up a tree,
and I thought how awful it would be to be a squirrel afraid of heights.

Feels like I am dumping the sands of my hourglass.
Sometimes I wonder with the messed up stuff I do,
how much of my time I am cutting short.

Sometimes I wonder if my destiny is misery.
Like is it my Fate or whatever.
Maybe all of the things that have happened to me were supposed to happen,
however awful and miserable it was.

Sometimes I am afraid that there is something I am supposed to be doing, something better and I am not fulfilling my destiny.
What if I die and I never do what I was supposed to do here on this little blue marble?

What if I wake up one day and I have all the answers, will it make anything better?

What if there are no answers?
and so the questions don't matter!

What if I am fulfilling my destiny right now and I don't even know it.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

Current Mood: Macabre
Current Location: My room.
Current Music: Almost Ecstasy by Wind Walkers.(on repeat.)

𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗 𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗘?

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Self deletion is its own remedy.
Depression is its own medication,
I think I had too much, some side effects have occurred.
No one is driving this car, objects are now smaller than they appear.

Married to the pain, just wearing scars like a wedding ring, dressed up with its shadows, being born all over again just to watch the world at its end.

And Anger is the rich uncle I never had, falling backwards to see there is no trust to be had.
Machines feed my elves, silicone dreams of better help, running from this hell, the sickness is in the cells.

It is easy to believe when you have something to see, you are not
locked behind stone windows and asked to believe in a world that you will never reach.

The dogs are licking wounds again,
these bandaids won't hold it,
the stitches are bleeding like a monsoon, my marbles have left me way too soon.
I keep the scars like trophies on my wall.
I sleep with my misery just to have something to call home.
My nightmares are my dreams sleeping,
my dreams are my nightmares wide awake.

Death in its self isn't scary, it is the death of self while living that scares me.
Being slowly ripped apart from the inside out, losing what I thought I was about.
Standing outside of everything,
not remembering things that are apart of me.
No longer asking questions because the answers can never be found.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Current Mood: Focused but detached
Current Music: Hangfire by Wind Walkers

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡
I would drink from this cup,
If it meant it would be enough,
that I would finally be free,
from a life of pain and misery.

I would gladly die for something,
If it meant I didn't have to live for nothing,
cross me out with a marker,
black as night, twice as nice.

Think I won't be glad when it is over?
When I am living with the nightmares on my shoulders?
Just a child of mind and heart now broken, just some pages you won't write out, some words you won't white out,
left out of a marble world, a broken toy and darken earth.

Heavy is the eyes, sore is its soul,
pleading for my plight to leave this world.
⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

•••••

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

A lowly growl from a hunger that I cannot escape from,
I shape my anger into a cross and
hang from it as I call it glamorous.
It is like looking at a car wreck, it is always better if you are not the one suffering it.

Can't love a world that is pretend, I am not that good at acting.
You imagine that there is something I love in this world.
Humans can make Gods out of anything, but
we both know I am quite more than human.
I am a figment of your imagination,
just another one of your creations,
a villain to be the moral of this story.

Everything is on the inside, I am the only one outside of it.
Looking out my own prison, just a prism of shadows is all I see.
Call it sick but somehow it is better than the alternative.
I am a sight for my own sore eyes.
Now how long have I been here?
Shaking dirt off my shoes of dust,
somehow I thought I would be cleaner than this.

And they say absence makes the heart grow fonder,
but you can't call it absent,
if there was nothing there to begin with.
Impressionism is just the expression of an expression,
nothingness leaves an imprint.

Be forgotten just so I can be remembered.
Why get the answers when I am already dead?
That is like reading the ending to a book I already read.
They say it gets worse before it gets better, that it is always darkest before dawn, but they know that it is just the weather, happy endings are just stories,
real life always goes wrong.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

Current Mood: Detached

●●●●

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡
Is my pain a sacrifice?
Is my love a cure?
Is my beauty wonderful?
Is my loneliness sure?
You gave the world ears but I am voiceless standing here,
blind man walking with no signal.
I am the martyr and the blade,
I sacrifice myself by design,
just a child running with scissors,
falling on the sword you gave me.

It is just love and hate on display,
passion and venom as I look away at a life through stained glass windows,
not sweet just sour,
like a snake you created just to create betrayal,
no healing just horror
as I count the hours.
Like an out you gave me,
only to say that I have to be here.
A kiss of prayer to cover up the sickness,
one bite of an apple just to have eyes that I didn't asked for.

With rose colored glasses and another drop of blood,
I see what life has to offer,
I drink from the cup,
I try to end my sorrow,
but I am just some pages of a book you dreamed up.
Wishing with stones
while you throw your words,
look up life's sleeves to see
a penny with no worth.

Don't ask questions and don't wonder why,
just live in the misery that you call; life.
Say it is a gift, but I never asked for this.
Cut the strings of this doll,
pretend to tend to the pain that isn't there at all.
A lover to a bottle, salt to the wounds, no well and no more wishes, just a blade that you keep twisting.

Open for hope like it is a door,
then close it again when I get sure,
paint this room black,
then wonder how it got so bad,
I lose while you win,
no sense in keeping score,
life is a game; someone else is playing it!

What am I?
a failed dream?
A nightmare of a broken thing?
What if I throw the stones at myself?
What if I end this cycle of hell that you keep me in?

Fading like a star at morning,
everything is fine,
so don't worry,
the people are only screens
and they're walls are now metallic,
you don't hear them scream,
you don't see the panic,
when the animals eat them
and the trees drink their blood,
you won't have to ask if it is fair, just that it is just.

And this is love:
given no choices,
given no relief,
play it to the chorus
of a song that you think is neat.
Anger is king here,
pain is its queen,
scars are its mark,
you know angels aren't keen
to help a fallen star.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

Current Mood: wretched and demoralised.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

●●●

You assume I am free because this cage has no lock upon it,
that I have choices because of said freedom,
but I have limited steps until I end up back here,
and I have choices but not the choices themselves,
everything is already set,
I choose one cage for another.

A cage bird is broken,
it sings because it knows no other way, it will always have walls around it.

it is blind to possibility,
it is deaf to miracles,
It is the tears of the sky,
and the grayness of death's eyes,
a dream of a foolish tomorrow,
a song of a foolish day,
a hope broken by hardship,
a heart that has fallen away.

Yet it sings still; like the snowglobe shakes,
a song nevertheless,
but a memory at best,
that wraps around its vest,
painted with black and white,
a duality at its might.

But like a fallen tree it will die,
Like a passing glance it will fade,
Like the pages of a book It will tear,
It will lose all its years, and time will count backwards, but its hands will never hold, that which is cold, that which is stone, that which is old, that which was never gold.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡
It is not worth it; how removed I have to become in order to be okay with life.

How much I have to sacrifice in order to feel alive again, to feel apart of this sick human race.

It is unsettling how much I want this moment to be my last, how much I want to go to sleep and never wake up again.

I know it is not right, but I can't be wrong in my assessment of the human race; how it is hollow and fading.

The only songs people remember are the same ones that they forget.

I am just a death note to myself, a black crayon to the world's ideas.
I am the thing everyone wished they could say, I am the happy make believe memory.
⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡

Current Music: Everlong by Foo Fighters.

⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒
I am eclipsed by my own shadows,
living with the scars on my skin,
the circles under my eyes, the heaviness of my heart,
the sickness of my mind.

There is no real escape, only a
temporary departure from one pain to the other.

And so I trade sleep for focus, meals for recreation, writing for doing anything else.

And if I don't sleep enough, I sleep too much, never wanting to awake to the nightmare of my reality, so I escape in whatever I can find.
Knowing that it won't last, that soon I will face the same dark mirror that I looked away from.

Eyes that can't turn away,
a voice with nothing to say,
a mind too dark to understand,
a heart broken in every place.

I cannot run from my shadow,
I cannot hide from my pain,
I cannot build a better tomorrow while living in such a state.
⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶꒷⏝⏝꒷︶ ͡𑁬♱໒

Current Mood: Detached
Current Music: Papercuts by MGK

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Raileus

August 2025

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The Book of the Dead.

A place for the broken. Melancholy writings, poetry and more..

Entries tagged with thoughts

Summertime Blues.

"Crowned"

"Release."

"Hourglass"

Detachment

"The Beast and the Angel."(Rewrite.)

"Joy"

"Deficiency"

Confessions of a messenger boy.

"Glitter rain"

"Apocalypse"

Can to the Zer.

OvErCaSt ThOuGhTs

"SeLf dElEtIoN"

"The marble world"

"Prism of shadows"

"The Martyr"

Cage bird sings

"Make Believe".

Eclipsed. 🌙

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August 2025

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