Reflections on my inner and outer worlds.

Author Archive

Fake Reality (03/13/2018)

This reality creates conflict.

This reality creates sadness.

In the end, it’s just a facade.

Nothing more than a show.

A fake.

A dream that is destined to fail.

Because it doesn’t feel real.

It feels like a cover.

A mask covering my senses.

It’s itchy.

Its irritating.

I want to scratch the film off my eyes and see what’s real.

Because what I’m seeing isn’t real.

It feels like there’s a film covering my eyes,

Preventing me from seeing whatever is there.

It’s itchy.

I want to scratch it off.

And my skin?

It feels fake.

I want to rub my skin until there is no more.

It feels unreal.

I don’t want it on me.

I want it off.

And I want the sounds to stop.

They sound so unrealistic.

I want to cut off this noise.

It’s annoying.

It’s not real.

There has to be something.

Something I’m not seeing.

Not feeling.

Nor hearing.

But I can’t sense it directly because of my body.

This “reality” seems so fake.

Because when I stare out, it feels like I’m only partly seeing.

Like I’m being blinded from the real reality.

And when I see my skin, it appears fake.

It appears distorted.

It’s not real.

It’s not real.


True Happiness (01/28/2017)

I’ve done it before.
I’ve attempted it before.
I tried to end my life before.
And during that time…

Was when I felt the most happiest.

I wish to feel that happiness again.
Even though I couldn’t feel anything.
The thought that went through my head,
“I can finally leave. I can finally escape.
I can finally end it all.”
Made me feel something I haven’t felt before.

True happiness.

I’m craving it again.
I want that true happiness.
I want to attempt it again.

Because that’s how I’ll be able to feel it again.

Yeah, I care about the people around me.
I know if I actually did attempt,
they would be upset.
But at the same time…

That’s selfish of them.

To want me to stay when I only suffer.
No way to express myself.
Nothing to help me.

Except death.

I can only truly feel happy
when I finally pass on.

I crave the feeling to slip away.
I crave the feeling to know that
I’m about to die.

I only felt true happiness when that happened.


What is there in life for me?

A family?
I don’t want it.

A successful job?
I don’t care.

Spending my life with my SO?
I don’t know.

Nothing seems worth it anymore.
No one cares except two people.
So why not go?

I’d only disappoint two people anyway.

I wouldn’t make too many people sad.
I wouldn’t have to make many people worry.
I wouldn’t have to have many people mourn me.

So what’s stopping me?

From reaching my true happiness?

Perhaps fear.
Maybe a wrong sense of time.
Possibly not enough materials.

Something’s stopping me.

I can’t leave things go unfinished.
Maybe that’s why.
I have to finish what’s left for me.
It isn’t much anyway.

Maybe it could be complete soon.
Who knows?

I don’t want to keep my true happiness waiting.
I want to feel it again.

I want to feel truly happy again.

Nostalgia (12/2/2016)




I dream of you still.
I dream you want me back.
That you’re sad.
That you are depressed without me.

Every time I wake up from them,
and several days thereafter,
I feel sick.


Those butterflies that once lived
in my stomach.


And the corpses remain.



Upsetting my stomach and wanting out.

Weighing down on my mentality.

You’re still there.

You’re still haunting me.

I don’t want you there.

You make me sick.

You legit make me want to puke.

I dream you want me back.

But I don’t want you back.

You hurt me.
Ever since that last late spring,
you hurt me.

The physical illness isn’t the worst part.

It was confiding in you.

It was trusting you.

It was putting all my faith in someone,
hoping they weren’t the same as the others.

And watching it all happen

All over again

It was hearing you say
that you “didn’t care

You were tired of me.
You were tired of almost everything I am.

It was hearing the fact that

I’m not worth talking to when

I’m not happy
I’m upset



Lost in a black abyss

Trapped in the dark

I still remember it.

I remember all those words

Those that which broke me down

Those that shut me back in.
Those that meant,

I should not open up.
I should not trust people.
I should not explain how I feel to anyone.
That I should never have done that in the first place.

And when I think back to our good memories.
It makes me sick.



When I get nostalgic,
it destroys me a little bit
at a time.

And it breaks me down
when it’s about you.

Because it reminds me

that I never should have trusted you.

I never should have confided in you.

I never should have put faith in you.

When I get nostalgic,

it reminds me that you destroyed

the weak side of me

after helping build it up.


When I get nostalgic,

it reminds me that

I never should have fell for you

as hard as I did.

Feelings (10/25/2016)








All these I feel.
All these I can’t get rid of.
All these feelings.


I don’t want them.
I don’t want them at all.
I don’t want to feel them.

I don’t want to live to feel them.
They’re all I ever feel.
They’re all I have inside.

I’d rather die.
I’d rather die and be forgotten.
I’d rather not feel.

I don’t wish to live.
I never did.
I never wished to be born.

I never wished to feel these emotions.
I never wished for this.
I was forced into this.


So damn much, I hate it.
I don’t wish to feel these anymore.
I don’t wish for life anymore.
I’d rather die than feel any sort of emotion ever again.

I can’t keep going on.
I can’t trick myself into thinking,
that my life has a purpose.
Because it doesn’t.

I can’t keep going on.
I can’t make myself think that,
anything I do will amount to anything.
Because it won’t.

I’ve tried to accomplish stuff.
I’ve tried my best.
But it was never enough.
Others always did that stuff better.

Everyone is always better than me.
Nothing I do matters.
Anything I try doesn’t amount to anything.

It fucking sucks.
It creates more of these feelings I have.
And it fucking sucks.

I never asked to have these feelings.
I never wanted them if they only brought me pain and suffering.

I don’t want them.
I don’t care for them.
I’d rather die than feel.

Life Transfers (9/8/2016)

I don’t want to be here.
I don’t want to stay alive.
But I’m scared to try to die.
In case of failure.

I’d gladly trade the rest of my life
for someone who’s close to dying.
So they could get a chance to live
and not feel robbed.

If I could,

I don’t have potential.
I don’t have anything worth living for.

Why waste it on me?
Why not give it to a child dying right now?
Why not?
They could have potential.

I don’t.
I don’t have anything to look forward to.
I don’t have a promising career in mind.
Or a want to start a family.

I don’t care about any of that.
I don’t care about happiness or joy.
I don’t care about wealth or a spectacular job.
I don’t care about having a future family either.

I don’t want any of that.
There’s no point.
I obsess over death.
I know I do.

I’ve been told that I do.
I obsess over death too much according to some.
But that’s because
that’s all I ever wanted in the end.

I crave death.
I crave for the feeling for my heart to stop beating.
I crave for the day that my body goes limp
from lack of blood flow from my heart.

I live for the day that I stop breathing.
I don’t care if death would only be darkness.
I don’t care if it would only be forgetting my entire life.
I don’t care about any of that.

If I could, I would transfer whatever life I had left
to someone dying right now.
I don’t need it. I don’t want it.
But someone else does.

Boring (8/16/2016)

Several years have passed.
All what you said was true.
I’m nothing special.
I’m nothing worth fighting for.

I’m not exciting or fun.
I’m not always happy.
I’m not always doing much.
I enjoy not doing a lot of things.

I am boring.
No one likes being around me.
For that very reason.

No one likes being around
someone who doesn’t do much.
I’m not daring.
I’m not risky.

I’m just…
I’m a freak.
I’m a disaster.

I’m bad luck.
I’m a walking disaster for crying out loud.
I’m not a good person.
I only screw things up.

I’m just a depressed, self conscious, boring person.
I’m not interesting.
I’m not amazing or spectacular or awesome.
I’ll never be that.

I never have been.

I’m Ready… (6/29/2016)

I’m ready to leave.
No more goodbyes.
Just abruptly leave.
I’m ready to die.

I can’t love anymore.
I can’t stay alive.
I can’t feel anymore.
I want to die.

I want to leave
and forget the goodbyes.
I want to forget everything of my life.
I want to leave.

I don’t want to stay anymore.
I have no one.
They all gave up.
They all left.

I’m all alone.
I wish I could die right now.
Those damn cats.

They’re the only thing I care about.
I don’t want anything to happen to them.
I would die right now…
If it weren’t for them.

I don’t care about anything,
except for them.
I’m throwing my life away.
I’m dying right now.

I’m not eating or drinking much anymore.
I’m losing the will to do anything.
I’ve almost lost it,

Those fucking cats.
Storm, Thunder, Shadow…
Thunder, the baby to Storm.
And Shadow, the orphan kitty.

You fucking three are the only things stopping me.
Why do I worry about you????
If I didn’t care,
I’d die.

I’d get my lifelong wish.
I wouldn’t be here anymore.
I’m ready to fucking leave.
I’m ready to fucking die.
But I’m not ready
to let go of you three yet…