LSD, Lonely, Scared, Dead

I’m afraid I can’t help it.
I’m afraid of the world.
Afraid of getting in again.
And frying in the oil.
Every cursory experience.
Laid out for a whirl.
Every segment of a relationship.
Overclocking my brain.
Run run little soldier boy.
Take a pistol with you.
The world’s a scary place.
Full of venom and bile.
The people so vile.
Whole life on a trial.
Why don’t you crack a smile.
Little soldier boy.
Marching headlong.
Plagued with shadows and memories.
Until he goes senile.
Old man mumbling his words.
Wisdom out on the curb.
No possessions in all.
Dirty hands he just scalds.
Afraid of the atmosphere.
Germs and pollution they say.
Can’t bring himself to touch.
Not anyone round his way.
Decomposing in facilities.
Rambling man in the den.
Screaming out past memories.
And regrets of men.
He never loved no one.
Never gave in.
Kept them all away.
So no pain would get in.    
What a sad joke it is.
Pain comes anyway.
Cross the threshold to take you home.
And add to the flame.
Burner burner burning bright.
Effigy of a spook.
Frightened of the life.
He gave away as a kid.

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Lucifer Morning (very dark)

You hit that rock bottom. The devil’s eye be watchin’ you. Turn turn the eyelids flitter, burrowing deceit and desire in that thicket of skull. Temptations. The swirling miasmic honeydew glow basking in itself, getting off on the strength of its own luminosity. Tinkerbell flakes swooping airily along blacky magenta skylines, making many journeys as the Dickensian spirits do. Second coming, more you say! Seconds for Betsy and Oliver too. Greedy goblins taking platefuls home for mangy mutts. Canines better than redheaded leechers. Temptation.

There are these wispy arcs of sooty black ash curving and curling up into the air. Filled with that malicious anger set upon the world. Little brats evolving to maniacal hate-filled seething stumps, retarded in their spiritual growth. They cut themselves off, driving away from the society that clothed them. Orphans by choice; cruel gruel on mangled twisted lips. Saucer and bowl for hungry dogs of anything goes anger romps. Twist and dement the goodwill of man, pay a pretty price for power and control. The bowl overfloweth, no trickle for the devout.
All seeing all desiring, wanting all earthly pleasures in a scoop of the wrist. Temptation.

The hoofed beast throws more scraps your way. Plump little minstrels and scared little girls ripe for having away. Flowery scents and far away eyes give rise to lecherous old louts. Getting rock steady as the night drags on. Indulging in appetites deep beneath the moral center. Slash and burn delicate flesh of fairly fair mortals, binging and cracking arms and legs, lotioned bodice serves no purpose in the fiery furnace abode. Muffled screams as the lolitas suckitoff, forceful obligations by tubby pots with snickering faces. Wretched wrinkles and wide grins marking the morphing visage. Animal farm ending comes upon them. Gorging pigs lapping up sinful delectables of the shock and awe variety. Shattered dolls taken away til next casting call. Cleaned and scrubbed for the laughing boars. Temptation.

Hurt and slander be the new wave but it all ends the same. Violence cum pestilence, uncivil wars and gross defeat. Never ending never winning, just gladiators piercing flesh and bone wrecking balls. Blood trails and impales, a reckoning, a crucifying, an inquisition of ill repute. Rebuke and condemn these sinful creatures. Eyes burning with lust and savagery, hot coals of golden shining dead lights. Split sides and forked tongue slithering and whispering devil deeds in neighbors ears  Do it do it! Take everything you want. Indulge indulge, revel devil and Sodom come. Kingdom come, past the breach, killing spree the decree.  Gnash and grind the skull-fucked enemies,  chomp and chew long legged long pig. Take it. Take it all, let desires go unchecked. Temptation.

He has more, they have more. Kill em all, take it all, love and leave it all. Growing sick of all the vice but never does it leave your side. Stuck to it, slave to it. Rusty chains and dark circles bounding you to every dark thought, all manner of transgression and still yet you cry more. So much more. A thousand lifetimes and still the chains jingle beckoning an audience for the slaughter. Baby lambs the sweetest meat. Defile that downy carcass and destroy innocence remnants. Wails and pleads just the orchestra of the new dawn. Bleating hearts begging for release; please god kill me. Torture, pain, the amorous humiliation partaking in game night. Spin the wheel, toss the key, prisoner’s dilemma and a hunting there will be. Regale in the chase, smirk crosses the wicked visage. Stiff at the prospect of another gleeful romp. Animalia, necrophilia, no more borders of what’s right. Temptation.

Garble Grumble

You can’t really shake away the bad thoughts. Those obsidian trinkets jingling in moonpie heads, wracking tight nerves bristling with the temperament of spent piano wire. High notes screeching away in a clarion call of dum dum psychosis. Falling down dark cliffs that jut across the wild world, plummeting down to blend into ruined oblivion.

Another trinket comes bustling blowing in. Takes a tad fad look around and sinks teeth into that nice little moment you had. A veritable peanut butter and jelly sandwich diversion you were savoring just a lil’ bit, just enough to keep away the bad ones, the djinns, the unearthly pert savages. Grande. Muerte. Shoving their way into existence, relevance. Don’t feed them or they come again once more. Too late. Brunch was served and I’m cleaning plates for the hellions sipping Spanish coffee, waving around petit fours and orange biscotti. That cloying smell is rising, drenching my nostrils in abrasive taunts; eyes burning with vile anger and fear circa hell. Caught in a hustle and who gets a tip?

I bow down to the gods of prey and paradise, bestowing succulent sychophancies and morbid servitude. Servile to the fullest, I beckon and bend on one knee to miser masters wishing suffering succotash and tongue wagging. To get in close, grab that forsaken tongue and with all strength in me rip the innards out of them, eye gouging a +1 bonus. To be free of the damned demons pulling and pulling me into their wide wacked world. I can’t think straight there, the numbness, the dreary days, the confusion and vice. Indecent actions, proper fucked, I wag my sullied head as dogs in the rain do. Swishing to and fro so nasty words and trifling pygmies fall out of the dungeon.  Let it out get it out rent it out break. Seek seek hide and peek, finding neverland in hobble hole. Seek the light and bask in it.

The sun the sun, a raisin I am in golden hues wrapped around me. Hugging rays like no tomorrow. I’ve reached a new wave, a plateau as it were. Mightily I rise over this new dawn to take what’s mine. The possession is unawares. I am lost once more, my task and tarry is blank slates acting as girders in a skyline still. Tweet tweet go little mocking birds, gray and grave on arrival. Sickly feeling and bumped flesh as they trounce by. I but wish to snatch the little buggers and tear them asunder. Viscera and bloody ‘ell guts straying streaking about. Gonads and gullets, flayed crispy treats for the bad moon rising. Turning dark now, any bliss was short lived short circuited.

Nanoparticles of death perforating midnight air. The faint sweet smell of honey suckled tits wafting along, singing a song, eerily strong. Senses delude me shifting drifting me to headlong gate crashes. St. Peter! Tricky devil that you are. Holding noses at the riff raff as they skulk and slumber every which way. Putting out the trash when the newness has faded. Only gleaming white space and parcels part of heavenly display. Baby blue scenes pastel pasted on divine providence. Take a walk away from the glow, none shall pass and all that rubbish. Puff and stuff, stay in limbo with my kind. Stay awhile and kiss the sky. Hollow grounds fill me right.

Confessions from the shame spiral

I remember when I was in grade school, maybe grade 2 or 3, I slipped and feel down the stairs going to recess and all the kids coming down just stepped on me. It was like I wasn’t even a person, just an obstacle in their path. No manners, no decency, just animals making their way to the watering hole. I curse these people because I have a hard time forgiving certain actions. They are imprinted on my brain and in my darkest hour I recollect them like fireflies trapped in a jar.

After coming to this country, Canada, I witnessed the cruelty of children. Little hellions, fun-sized bastards with sparse moral centres. Maybe that event gave me a deeper sense of awareness, a more mature consciousness than that of my peers. I used to think a lot and contemplate life, the universe, god and all else. It’s possible that such debasing and coarse experiences bring forth enlightenment. In Buddhism life is pain and suffering and there is no escape from this. If you embrace it as a never-ending eventuality you can attain some peace or maybe even Nirvana. Smells like a corrupt spirit to me. Nevermind.

The only helpful way to deal with the past is acceptance and learning from it. There’s a lot to garner from the bad times, the focal horror points that clasp your psyche and leak out distilled bitterness. The sublime traumedy as it were. What more is there to say I do not know at this time. I dislike remembering these things over and over again, why can’t we choose which memories to repress? I guess it ain’t so bad, love is much worse.

What is it when you’re a nice guy who treats women with respect and kindness but at the same tine you don’t? You somehow hurt them and damage them, their feelings, their self-respect. You don’t reciprocate their feelings. You don’t act like they’re important. You drift off into a Neverland of gray and leave your lifeless meatbag there for them to fuss over and have a relationship with. This ain’t healthy, ain’t conducive to a burgeoning relationship or anything akin to love. They need affection and a stability in that affection and I have not given them that, I can’t,  not presently. Every whisper of a new romance is tinged with that dark and dreary thought permeating  supple worry bones.

In my head, oh, I give them the world. I’m providing everything they could want in a man; the pinnacle of white knights. In reality I’m pushing pushing away and hiding from those that make an effort to care. Those sweet hearts I turn bitter and corroded then leave to pulsate with another thumper. I feel like a bloodless fool and they’re asking for warmth. Jovial and affable but something missing, something lacking. Gone. I come forward with shaky hands holding golden half lockets asking the sun to shine for just me. They want support, I’m selling glass canes and footpads.

Familiarity breeds contempt. I may think less of them from time to time, more I entertain their company the less I care. Stone-faced gentleman without the guts. Attention reduced in lovey dovy operatic scene. Red curtains go down, I let go of the rope.

Such as it is

I think of depression as a dip or tear in the system of a semi-organized machine. The dysfunction comes upon it with that voracious appetite stalling grinding gears and switches. This is a lot like black holes or rips in the fabric of the universe. Sure, I could have used the former analogy but it seems so trite and not how I want to frame it. There is plenty of steady state nothingness that comes with the territory, metal gear melancholy. Not just a void but a sagging jowly crumpet eater drowning in their weak ass tea. You know the ones. The sycophantic mish mush slap-themselves-on-the-back social climbers up in everyone’s bidness. Down and down it goes the mood of the fledgling hour, the mopey blues from nowhere, sad and broken looking up at rays of light traveling away from us.

I guess it’s better now, what with all the psa’s and information out there. But there is stigma, you read about it all the time. People afraid to let it out for fear of being mocked or told to suck it up by all those ignorant types. There’s too many of them still out there. They bitch and complain about their spouses and work but we can’t discuss a life-altering, heavy drain on our entire being. Why is that happening? Our feelings, or non feelings, are ours alone, we take the burden and shuffle along a lost highway. Sure, help is great, maybe it won’t last forever and eat up all your hard work and relationships. Maybe trusting someone with this secret is a way out, the sandpit has a rope somewhere. Letting out that secret though, even after the first, it’s like a claw tugging at my chest, pulling words down the gullet. Screams and wails are burrowing deep within whimpering like the bad dogs thrown outside.

All the help and programs just didn’t cut it enough. Yes I am hilarious and witty with all manner of people and can feel fine minute by minute, but alas the dull ache bounces back jack, the jowls and stupor link hands and grip me ever so. I’ve run them over and run away from the life, the problems, the sickly child, only to be tethered to this overgrown malady. You ignore it it comes back, you screen the calls and it comes knocking with lilies and nutella, “I love you baby.” Pshaw! I got so much in my craw but I gotta choke it down and be all smiles and happy thoughts like fucking Peter Pan. Though so many of us must be like this. So many are hiding in plain sight, plastering Crest white toothy grins and offering bland pleasantries to false faces. What can you do? We live by our conventions and trickery.  Thunder gods with tiny voices held within.