Words for Days

I need a place to put these things i write so that i had a reason to write them, also the only way im going to get anywhere or improve is if people can tell me i suck I will be writing poetry, Automatic writing, general thoughts, and possibly short stories if i ever get down to it, so there's what to expect i guess. Male. English. 20

[cydewinston]

Honestly I no longer feel like I'll kill myself one day.

However I do feel like I've probably already done it if I'm honest. There's nothing left to do but be at peace with that.

[cydewinston]

Observational note:

Manic swings have become increasingly unavoidable once fed with psychedelics. Intensity heightened, yield heightened, restlessness unimaginable.

[cydewinston]

We forget how viciously we hate our selves, and now i remember 

[cydewinston]

Then stop,

Listening to the waves of silence

Ploughing down through walls

And in deadpan frequency

In to and out from, all things

Amplified .

  Crosshairs

As they isolate the common flickering tongue

Creamed neatly in the periphery

Of hearing

And audible sound

Inaudible.

  But then broken, or corrupted

By screaming

Drowning

Brittle splinter

Or some other malcontent invasion

On The Rest.

[cydewinston]

Then stop,

Listening to the waves of silence

Ploughing down through walls

And in deadpan frequency

In to and out from, all things

Amplified .

  Crosshairs

As they isolate the common flickering tongue

Creamed neatly in the periphery

Of hearing

And audible sound

Inaudible.

  But then broken, or corrupted

By screaming

Drowning

Brittle splinter

Or some other malcontent invasion

On The Rest.

[cydewinston]

In the traditional sence, I fear very little. The darkness and being alone knit in to my reality, providing a perimeter of awareness almost. The things that scare me are not that which is overtly dark or decidedly chaotic, these things I champion as symbols of the overall aesthetic I have romanticized for myself. That which in nature is as instinctual as breathing, the circumstances around appropriating a carnal atmosphere in another individual, are my own vast wastes of choas into which I don't dare observe. Resentment and reflection follow

[cydewinston]

The term popular music defines a form of music that through means of engineering or artistic expression encapsulates the aesthetic of a culture. The term is always applicable at the given time however elements in the music may change. Global events such as social movements or well planned marketing work can leave ideas in the mass consciousness that particular motifs in the music accentuate, making the music appealing to the audience. Anything that is pop music, will not be pop music, and anything that was now is not. The pop aesthetic of easy listening and upbeat melodies has became a recurring theme, being that most people can agree they are pleasing.

[cydewinston]

Pride, in all its belligerent intricacies, repulsive clauses of condemnation. Revoke, and reconcile in the selfless. Without self, without constraint. Wander in uncorrupted time and space vesseless

[cydewinston]

It must have rolled in from the south, over the river and up the bank. The testosterone carnival, corporate sponsored playground games. Once the tent has been erected the goons fill the streets in droves, flooding the pavement like a wildebeest migration. Football manages to boil off some of the more introverted qualities of these humans revealing the more volatile elements to defuse into the air. Colour coordinated localised nationalism with a points system in which every balding proletariat can claim any goal scored or game won as his own personal victory, regardless of which ever Euro-African sportsman would have been awarded the achievement under conventional ruling. Thick clouds of after shave pollution bellow from the doors of a curb mounted mini van. The occupants allow the chemical hormone to disperse into the crowd for a few moments before clambering out to their own droning fanfare. The day is approaching its midpoint on this early autumn Saturday, but already I imagine the average takings from surrounding drinking establishments will have far exceeded that of a day where such ceremonies are not scheduled. Police presence is intensified respectively, but the pigs all have half an eye on the score anyway. The parasite embraces all, pigs and drones alike These people will sit complacently as their homes are taxed from beneath them and their brains shoveled full of propaganda and lies, but the ties they feel deep in their gut to 11 over payed hair product models who run up and down now and then, tapped into that primal base range of emotions that have shaped the growth of civilisation.

[cydewinston]

5 am strikes again Why was 12 o'clock the witching hour I mean who's asleep by midnight, everyone in the middle ages were such squares. On a side note, turmoil has once more set in. I feel like a doctor looking at sick people and instead of seeing names on their charts he sees their time of death. Would kinda make being a doctor super pointless because why try, you know they are dead already. I know, I'll destroyed this long droning absence of anything with an equally long, yet more gratuitously pointless, stream of consciousness. I'm still fairly sure I am the only person who will ever read this so really what could it possibly matter. I might as well not do it, however, it has already started. So being that, for a short time at least, it has already happened, it might aswell live to see the grand plains of the open internet. And suddenly I don't feel like it anymore, thank fuck. Or I do and I'm finally tired and can sleep. And the gravity of the salvation sleep offers is bending my will to achieve itself. I can but hope. Christ. I need to not this. Who is it everyone else tells these things to, or are they absent. Though I do not suggest that this is in any way significant behavior. I just don't have the words to either justify or condemn it. Beginning of Autumn and neither of us are happy or satisfied in any way other than the requirement for basic interactions, which on occasion is fulfilled by family members. The worst is still to come. I need a drink. I'm just going to lay with my eyes shut untill Its time to be awake again, then fall asleep and crawl the last few feet into, what. That. Again. Exhalation. Inhalation. Fuck off.

[cydewinston]

Take me forth into better vibes Deliver me from the stagnant and mundane Take my heart wherever my feet might go

[cydewinston]

Why does hayfever? Just why. Why does it.

[cydewinston]

I guess it's back to sleepless nights and digging new scars

[cydewinston]

The present is an endless hell

[cydewinston]

There is no god no power there is only distraction from this fucking filthy place Scortch the earth, nothing good grows here

[cydewinston]

I'm going to have to learn to hate you. Because anything less than hate leaves me a total slave to you. Please don't take it personally, but the only way things can progress are through hate

[cydewinston]

It feels that, rather than living I am simply experiencing a series of episodic eulogies I have moments of stagnant lucidity to read through and realize. Like in a dream, you are never really yourself but more a spectator in a selection of personality, all a variation on character.