Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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@darkrandomcrap
So I'm at work at 5am, working security at a ski mountain, bored off my ass listening to the groomers on the radio...
Groomer 1: "anyone else driving blind out there?" (Bad weather)
Groomer 2: "BIRD BOX CHALLENGE!!"
Groomer 1: "well who doesn't love Sandra Bullock? Just dont travel with her anywhere!"
IM DEAD
A picture I took before landing in Anchorage, Alaska. The top of a glacier even with the clouds. I think it’s beautiful.
31 (2016)
The Nightmare Before Christmas Directed by Henry Selick (1993)
“The stone in my stomach that only forms when we fight is not comprised of the words I want to tell you. It is comprised of the words that I wish that you would tell me. It is comprised of their absence.”
— CONVERSATIONS WE WONT HAVE | PART ONE | (mvrdvrous)
““I want you to tell me about every person you’ve ever been in love with. Tell me why you loved them, then tell me why they loved you. Tell me about a day in your life you didn’t think you’d live through. Tell me what the word home means to you and tell me in a way that I’ll know your mother’s name just by the way you describe your bedroom when you were eight. See, I want to know the first time you felt the weight of hate, and if that day still trembles beneath your bones. Do you prefer to play in puddles of rain or bounce in the bellies of snow? And if you were to build a snowman, would you rip two branches from a tree to build your snowman arms or would leave your snowman armless for the sake of being harmless to the tree? And if you would, would you notice how that tree weeps for you because your snowman has no arms to hug you every time you kiss him on the cheek? Do you kiss your friends on the cheek? Do you sleep beside them when they’re sad even if it makes your lover mad? Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain? See, I wanna know what you think of your first name, and if you often lie awake at night and imagine your mother’s joy when she spoke it for the very first time. I want you to tell me all the ways you’ve been unkind. Tell me all the ways you’ve been cruel. Tell me, knowing I often picture Gandhi at ten years old beating up little boys at school. If you were walking by a chemical plant where smokestacks were filling the sky with dark black clouds would you holler “Poison! Poison! Poison!” really loud or would you whisper “That cloud looks like a fish, and that cloud looks like a fairy!” Do you believe that Mary was really a virgin? Do you believe that Moses really parted the sea? And if you don’t believe in miracles, tell me — how would you explain the miracle of my life to me? See, I wanna know if you believe in any god or if you believe in many gods or better yet what gods believe in you. And for all the times that you’ve knelt before the temple of yourself, have the prayers you asked come true? And if they didn’t, did you feel denied? And if you felt denied, denied by who? I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling good. I wanna know what you see when you look in the mirror on a day you’re feeling bad. I wanna know the first person who taught you your beauty could ever be reflected on a lousy piece of glass. If you ever reach enlightenment will you remember how to laugh? Have you ever been a song? Would you think less of me if I told you I’ve lived my entire life a little off-key? And I’m not nearly as smart as my poetry I just plagiarize the thoughts of the people around me who have learned the wisdom of silence. Do you believe that concrete perpetuates violence? And if you do — I want you to tell me of a meadow where my skateboard will soar. See, I wanna know more than what you do for a living. I wanna know how much of your life you spend just giving, and if you love yourself enough to also receive sometimes. I wanna know if you bleed sometimes from other people’s wounds, and if you dream sometimes that this life is just a balloon — that if you wanted to, you could pop, but you never would ‘cause you’d never want it to stop. If a tree fell in the forest and you were the only one there to hear — if its fall to the ground didn’t make a sound, would you panic in fear that you didn’t exist, or would you bask in the bliss of your nothingness? And lastly, let me ask you this: If you and I went for a walk and the entire walk, we didn’t talk — do you think eventually, we’d… kiss? No, wait. That’s asking too much — after all, this is only our first date.””
— Andrea Gibson
Truth...
And with this situation I remember why I am better off alone. The time and effort that I put forth to build up someone of significance has come to haunt me once more. The endless effort and dedication to keep others afloat has run out. No longer will I let people in. No longer will I assist others in their times of need. I have given in to too many people who have no room for me in their lives. I will no longer be succumb to the fake happiness I feel from others. No longer will I allow myself to pursue happiness. Happiness is not real. Speaking from experience and betrayal. Happiness is the most fucked up illusion to have ever crossed my mind. Every time I have tasted the flavor of this fake happiness, it has left the flavor of pure hatred in my mouth... in my heart. No longer will this happen as of this moment. I continue make myself believe that fake happiness beats loneliness. I have been far mistaken. The things this... shit... has led me to, would kill the weak. It has almost killed me many times, and once more it knocks. They say less is more. I have never understood this statement as well as I do right now, sitting before you. My head is so full of questions. Some too dark to state but goddamn... they're frequent. Argue it, deny it, I don't care. Loneliness is the only way to be completely satisfied in life. Loneliness has always followed me, always followed many. Some can't handle it. Some say they can't survive it. While understandable; in my shoes, loneliness is the only thing that hasn't let me down. The only thing that hasn't drug me through the dirt. Loneliness is the only thing that has kept me safe. Made me feel safe. And from here on out, it will be my true love.
A picture I took before landing in Anchorage, Alaska. The top of a glacier even with the clouds. I think it’s beautiful.
✧ ・🕸️ ° 🎃 O c t o b e r : Movies To Watch This H a l l o w e e n 🎃 ° 🕸️ ・✧
How it should have went.
Skeleton Glow - 171005
Questions...
I don’t know who I am anymore. I can barely remember who I was. My future is pitch black. A dark abyss staring me in the eyes, a dark abyss that I have no choice but walk into only being able to fear what I find on the walk through. Who I was a year ago, I couldn’t tell you. The pain of being so lost. So alone. It could kill someone, it has almost killed me. Me taking my own life becomes less of a fantasy and more of a possibility with every passing day… I have gone to extraordinary measures to see how to remove myself from this world. Painless, painful. This… darkness that follows me will end up being the death of me, how I have been able to survive with this shadow, for this long… I couldn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell you if I’m happy or not, because really… what is… happiness? A fake illusion that amplifies the pain of sadness, of distress. Happiness is so many people’s goal in life… but it’s really a weakness…. maybe that’s how I have survived with the shadow…? By not letting myself be happy, or giving myself the desire to live a life full of happiness. Maybe that has suppressed my desire to die? Maybe depression… is why im… alive…? I spend my time attempting to fulfill others desire for happiness while constantly degrading myself, no one stomps me more into the dirt than myself. The history that follows me in my day to day life resembles a reaper honestly… just walking behind me, trying to catch me, watching my every move… watching me trip myself repeatedly to let him get closer… and closer… maybe I’m the reason I have a desire for death…maybe the psychological self harm I cause myself is turning my inner self into a demon trying to destroy any chance I have of dying of natural cause. Of living past 20. Maybe that’s why my future looks like a dark abyss… maybe that’s why I see no future… what if it’s not there…?
Original illustration by Al Margen
