death @deathpoetsoceity - Tumblr Blog

I read back on what I have written, it's not in my memory, writing any of it. How much of myself has my memory failed to preserve?

Pretentious words, im using rn to create an illusion of before.

But truth is whenever I see beauty now, I feel more compelled to capture it than to feel it. Like if I don't capture it, the beauty isn't there.

Imaginary problems consume too much of me for me to think beautifully now.

Im leaving again. I'll be back. I don't want to be back. I don't want to leave. Boring. Everything.

Will I ever be content?

Dancing with my headphones to songs which makes me feel like everything is worth romanticising and dancing to. The earphones go loose to my shoulders and i still hear the music. Now muffled. Like it's from a near by club. I went to a ayurvedic hospital-house with teacher which was beside the end of the (very deep and offtrail) road, the bar symbolising the dead end. A song from my childhood playing muffled. Im kissing my lover and my favourite song is muffled in the background. I sit under a shade at the beach in the extreme high of an afternoon. The music in my headphones muffled by the cigarettes and waves.

So my verdict is Muffled music is what you should live for. Now I'm sleeping and I'm going to sleep regardless of the extremely important (which I have no clue about) i have tomorrow.

Something about everything is so poetic and cinematic. The time and the day. The drinks I'm drinking and the people i hate. And the people i love. The half eaten sauces and half cooked sources. Humans empathising with robots and the downfall of politics. The pillow on the chair and the news papers hung on my mirror. Grammatical mistakes and yellow lights. Cigarettes and lovers. Everything.

Everything.

So beautiful.

When I'm too sleepy it's like I'm exposed to the dimensions which we can't experience normally. I feel things i experienced the previous time I was exposed into these dimensions sometimes in forms of half dreams, sometimes while masturbating.

So when I'm living my day to day life without this high, I get a millisecond of it with no warning. It fleets yet lingers. I can't comprehend it no no. It's incomprehensible. But when I'm in it, everything else seems incomprehensible.

"you're muttering your usual bs again, no you are not ascending into godhood and no you aren't a prophet"

Students often like to boast about their cluelessness (before exams) but then are they really clueless? Not really. Well I am. It's 1:43 am and my helplessness can't be helped by boasting about it. I sit in my living room, in acceptance of my 'defeat'. They say look at your life go to shreds with your marks. Maybe I will see. Maybe I would like it far away from this infrastructure of this 'educational system' and 'society' and of 'how to earn a living'. I don't need to earn my living. Everyone is born with the right of living. No one needs to earn it under these infrastructures created by other men.

Im not impressed by what I write, i could always do more. Is this the greed they warned me about? But they didn't tell me it would arrive at my doorstep in this form. Well I should have stopped listening to 'them' long ago. Broken chocolate under an opened scissor. It might be incomprehensible to you but it isn't for me. Maybe it is comprehensible.

I read in Malayalam that love is the force which keeps you alive. Beautiful languages spoken ugly-ly makes you think the language is ugly.

The pink blanket makes me feel more cold and i am under the ac lights and captialism

They say I don't understand books I read because then i wont be like this, I say I am not like this because of the books I read. I read the books I read because I am like this.

Being bored should be a valid excuse to not do those things, not just an excuse for the privileged.

They say I'm impractical (for putting my free will to use). Maybe I am.

I am a prophet and preaching my prophecy is my occupation. Or does every burning 15 year old feel like a prophet?

The fan above me in the exam hall is spinning in spirals. I think humans are spirals.

"inwards or outwards?" He asks me

Both at the same time.

I lie there, staring at the spiraling fan, thinking. Im also spiraling into the end. I think of how the exam I have been preparing for my whole life will soon be infront of me in the form of a (question) paper. Just that. I thought the end will be more idk obvious? Grand? But it wasn't. It was silent, it didn't make an announcement. It has been the end for a while now. I just didn't realise it.

Is that how it will feel at the end of life?

It's late at night, I stand in the kitchen drinking pepsi which tastes like hostile applause, i fail to see a purpose for my exams other than to create a hierarchy between the students. I have a fear of being seen performing. Do i? Who knows? But I read somewhere girlhood is a performance so is godhood. But I think being a human is a performance so are we so away from ascending to godhood?

The guy in the earphone shop knew i was there for earphones as apparently 'I have a natural rhythm to me that people who listen to a lot of music have' and a sunset was painted for me. I forgot my mother's birthday and September melted into October. My exams are near and all i want to do is live.

There's no line separating the extremes and simples of life, they are just blended together. So is it my responsibility to draw the margins? What if I decide not to at all?

It's so frustrating when i understood something i read but when I read it again I can understand it but I can't fully grasp it's true essence, it itches my brain in the wrong way. LIKE UGHHHHH WHY IS YOUR COMPREHENSION SKILLS DECREASING? WHAT DID I GET EARLIER WHICH I JUST CANT GET RN? AM I MAKING THIS SHIT UP IN MY HEAD? DONT WE MAKE EVERYTHING UP IN THW HEAD?

I listened to music after a long time and was disappointed.

I thought it would feel like him but it was just music.

Idk what I'm letting go of yet but I'm definitely letting go of something. I can feel it. (It's divine intuition)

*grabs your right hand with both of my hands in the middle of a place we hate being in* look ik it is ignorant of me to say but why are we even here? It's our life. We chose to be here. We have free will. We can choose to not be here too. We can do anything with our lives if we are brave enough to face the consequences. So let's choose to not be here ? Or anywhere that we don't want to be in? Because we don't have to be anywhere. Or anything. Just ourselves living our life.

*cums all over and reproduces 10 biblically accurate angels*

Today

I studied maths for my exams tomorrow but it has been postponed due to heavy rain so i talked to him about communism and politics then slowly moving the topic to people and their obsession with performing. My hair is still falling in almost chunks and i have much less hair on my head now. It's uncomfortable but it's okay. It's just hair. It'll grow back and I'm just 14.

I'm losing my mind. Quite literally. No I don't hate my life but nor am I particularly sad but there is this perpetual foul mood that dawns over me but I'm happy. I'm glad. I love my life but I'm escaping as soon as I get the possibility. I have friends but I don't. I have people to talk to but I haven't been properly talked to in so long but the paradoxes of these events aren't the reason why I'm losing my mind. There's no reason I'm losing it. Everything is overwhelming. I am intelligent but I can't study and am i really that intelligent or can I just see and say things most cant? How am I going to end up? But I'll end up just fine. It's me after all.

My favourite emotion is when I hold the tips of people's clothes, not grabbing just holding it tight with my index and thumb as a reassurance that they are there. As a reassurance that they aren't going anywhere anytime soon.

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