idk i kinda just dumped the contents of my brain here a while ago


you do not know me. i do not know myself.
immutable, ever changing, always the same.
the scholar that never learns. the fool that knows a million things. the prodigy that excels at nothing.
always listening, observing, reading every detail, never taking any of it in.
who am i? am i the mask i wear with even the closest of my friends and family? am i the person i buried deep in the past, gone before i knew them? i do not know.
the one who senses truth, clear as black and white, and yet sees only in muted shades of grey.
a labyrinth of my own making, i know every step. why am i lost?
cages within cages within cages. if i were to break free of the shackles formed of my own mind, what awaits but a world that despises everything i love?
i close my eyes. waves wash over my mind, deep breathing, all is brought to stillness, yet it never ceases its motion.
i seize an opportunity as it drifts by. nothing. empty-handed. was i too late? just unlucky? or did i never really want it to begin with?
an artist that creates no works. part of me yearns for expression, yet i loathe to express myself.
the dreamer who imagines nothing. a future born of the accumulated past, everything i have ever valued.
shameless embarrassment. faultless guilt. i put no stock in others, flecks of foam drifting on a careless sea. why do the things i have done pester my conscience so?
no purpose. no gods. a careless universe in which we were born solely through absurd chance. is it not a concept most divine?
the unstoppable flow. i let it consume me. i stare into the blood-red darkness. how droll.
a blank slate, splattered with blood and sorrow and a life that was perfectly fine, yet unbearable in its waste.
a stoic of no virtue. i am unbothered, i let no base instinct taint me. i am contemptible.
many names. names given, names created. labels that mean nothing. not a single one remotely near the truth.
hateful sanguine yearning. how i cannot stand connection. it is intolerable to me. how i yearn for it. how beautiful the idea of one to share in this life with, how divine the feeling of their blood mingled with mine, metallic taste, deep red blossoms, fading to stains of rust. communion.
a body not broken, but simply unrefined, unhoned. perfect.
the process of becoming. a supertask, infinite steps, yet one day ends.
A.R.T. aesthetically rendered torment. the glory of splattered viscera, spilled life, masterfully arranged.
unshakable, calm in the face of disaster. why does the presence of others disturb me so?
motivation. iron will. directed only at that which is pointless.