Nothing is Real
Somewhere in the corner of my mind or what little is left, there registers the things going on around me.
Nothing is part of me.
Not a fucking thing is real. It's only me that counts. It's only me that'll remain. Long after ruminations of what is gone and the memories of elapsed time which is scattered to the wind.
Like fucking robots I mechanically go in the flow. I eat, talk, earn and fuck.
Day after day, night after night, time and again reminding myself that one day it will be all worth it.
One fucking day.
I tell myself that I have a dream and it is finally within grasp. Within my reach. If only I could just take a moment to remember what my fucking dream was.
Sometimes, like a cold damp cloth over my thoughts, shit gets clouded. Grey mists swell around and not a fucking thing seems real.
The moments of life lost in living.
But really, is there such a thing as happiness and sorrow after all? Or is there only one state of life?
The being state where you like, 'be'. Totally and complete aware of yourself, aware of your heart beat, aware of each breath you take, aware of the tangled webs surrounding you but still realize that you weaved them all.
Like, you actually asked for it .
Fuck all. I don't know, man.
Nothing is part of me.
Not a fucking thing is real. It's only me that counts. It's only me that'll remain. Long after ruminations of what is gone and the memories of elapsed time which is scattered to the wind.
Like fucking robots I mechanically go in the flow. I eat, talk, earn and fuck.
Day after day, night after night, time and again reminding myself that one day it will be all worth it.
One fucking day.
I tell myself that I have a dream and it is finally within grasp. Within my reach. If only I could just take a moment to remember what my fucking dream was.
Sometimes, like a cold damp cloth over my thoughts, shit gets clouded. Grey mists swell around and not a fucking thing seems real.
The moments of life lost in living.
But really, is there such a thing as happiness and sorrow after all? Or is there only one state of life?
The being state where you like, 'be'. Totally and complete aware of yourself, aware of your heart beat, aware of each breath you take, aware of the tangled webs surrounding you but still realize that you weaved them all.
Like, you actually asked for it .
Fuck all. I don't know, man.
posted by Demented | Wednesday, November 10, 2010
3 Comments:
awesome. after i read this post, i felt nothing too.
-anon
anon : i re read it again this morning and i asked myself this - what the fuck is this?
Sounds more like someone smoked some herbs
anon ny mos
Post a Comment
<< Home