|
|
|
So, as I would normally figure, in the utmost unmannered way, I've come to a simple conclusion of the matter.
I was in a room. The walls were white-washed, and the ground was carpeted. Simple. A room so undecored, I would have gouged my eyes out in a turbulance of subtlty. I mean, in regards to the 'sociopath' I am conformed to, that I would suffer in such a way of confusion, as would anyone who stepping into a funhouse. Now, do not forget that I am of most reference a soul with complexity to astound even the most amazing and awed of people. I find the blanket of simplicity to be choking, as though a miasmic haze. Figuring, that essentially, I would never fully see in this room, I still found a small token of knowledge. It was, in fact, to calming to relax. I was on edge in the most unconventional ways. No, this room was not one in a asylum, nor a tranquil home. This room, so vast and plain, was locked inside my heart. No, nevermore to lie, it was my heart, being ripped out. The gorn heart strings were tugged and pulled at, and finally...
I snapped.
Xblood_demonX · Sat Apr 12, 2008 @ 07:09pm · 0 Comments |
|
|
|
|
the change off fate, while the wrold stays still |
|
|
|
|
|
|
well, my philosophies have been changing, and so have i, and i've had a lot of time to think. in that time, i never forgot, i never stopped, i never lessened, i never learned, i just went by. i changed with out knowing it, and now i'm here. stuck in a numbness. it's sort of like when your subconcious, and everything is drifting by, and you know whats happening, but you can't really grasp the concept, you can't speak, you can't do anything, until you wake up. and today, of all the days i could choose, i chose the one that meant the most, the one that, in this time of autumn, i'm not myself, but i am awake. right now, i'm on the verge of change until winter comes, the are is getting colder, the leave are falling, and i'm stuck in a world, that is in hibernation, while i'm still alive. sad i'm alone in my grasp of life...
Xblood_demonX · Tue Oct 02, 2007 @ 10:48pm · 2 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
|
i heard starring at the sun was bad for someone because it could ruin their eyesight. bu twhat if in some case, it could hurt them not just phisaclly, but mentally? the other day i sat there and store at the sun for a while. my eyes started to burn, but i was thinking so hard i didn't care. i was thinking of the things i never did, that could of changed how i am today. every one thinks these thoiughts, but no one every really looks into them as i did for that moment. i just sat there. by time, it was dark out and the moon had come to vision. i still sat there. by the time i went back home, it was 1:57 in the morning. my mother asked where i was, and responed quite oddly, "in my own state of mind". my mother looked with confusion, and i told her that i had to stare at the sun all day to figure, that, most people will hate you for what you did, but everyone who hates me, hates me because what i did not do, and how i sat back while i was shapened into the person who lives in darkness and does not fear the light, but longs for it. the person that longs for the light at the end of the tunnel, but every step they take, the light is a step further. the next day, i went out and store at the sun again. this time, i wasn't thinking about myself, and how i am looked upon by others, but how other look upon each other. how friends are nice to there friends, but rude to those who are not. i went home again at 12:43. i talked to my mother agian and i told her that, the world can not be changed. she wondered what i meant so i explained that, if i am a friend of someone, when i die, that someone will be sad, but if i die and there is someone that hates me, they will be uneffected by this action. i sat in bed later that night and pondered to myself, "the world will move, even if we all die. we will not be remembered for anything.". and in that, i thought the other day when i store at the sun and noticed, that when people are remembered, it's by those friends who cared about them. the friends who cared about what i myself and everyone else who is a friend had done make friends. an i then noticed, that i had made my own meaning of life: to be known to friends, and remember for nothing but actions.
Xblood_demonX · Tue Feb 20, 2007 @ 04:42am · 4 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|