Everything exists, it’s all real and it’s all in play, death murder violence and all the feelings and ideas attached, all these labels and the world without them. I am using words, I am using language right now to help achieve an understanding. I’m trying to see the words in my mind and see them for what they are, I think this might help. But believing what I write might not be necessary either.
Will just typing it out do anything, or must I try to correct what I write?
Must I only publish the truth, or is it okay for me to publish crap?
I don’t think I believe or live by what I write, even when talking about myself, I’ve just written things that have made my body feel less tight and I like that feeling. Then I tighten up again because I don’t want to feel so good right now, the idea of just feeling lose forever doesn’t make any sense to me but I am chasing it for ever. So DUMB. Imagine, just being happy, imagine just feeling cool forever, imagine! It’s enough to make a man barf.
To just sit there, content with yourself, SOCIOPATH. A beach! you want to enjoy the beach you murderer what is wrong with you! You just want to write and live as the river flows, the river flows with such gentile flow it’d tare you apart to move so truly slow. To trickle, I haven’t trickled in 19 years! To flow, to flow, to flow, to eat and cook and flow, such an idiot. To be happy for the rest of my life eating food, I’ve never imagined anything so sickening, to be happy with what I eat for the rest of my life and never hate myself, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life you idiot. You must be in pain. I must be in pain! because I deserve it! I am someone who deserves pain! I shouldn’t even ever spend an iota of my life searching for true happiness, that is vile. There are good people out there in agony and I, I want to be happy with the heinous crimes I’ve committed. Me the man who has thought about so many friends whilst masturbating, in such specific sexual environments, me who confesses so easily to get more love. Me who confesses and hates himself just because I still just want to be loved deeply as much as I can. Me who limits the amount of food, shelter and warmth just perfectly so so that society will provide for me without me having to try so hard.
Me who hates himself so much but still keeps up so much effort trying to attach himself to such beautiful women. Me who listens to philosophy, WHY!? because I’m looking for any and every loop hole in society, it’s just fun, I’m not even trying to get any where particular, I’m literally just checking out the internet and blowing out my mind with the words on offer. I love wild shit. Oh man I’d drop so much so quick if I genuinely saw a little nuck or crannie that I could be happy with. Right now regret is my big imp, and trying to get rid of that imp is itself another imp. I have a dream of lying on the beach but I’m not at peace because these imps are with me. But I am at peace fighting these imps, so what do I do. I now feel bad for excavating my soul, because excavating my soul feels good and deep down I don’t think I deserve to feel good. This is quite the knot. I have the desire to tackle this knot, but I know perusing doesn’t make me feel good. Now I feel good for trying to blind myself and eventually take down this knot, I’m happy that there’s nothing I can do, that deep down there is a knot and I will do everything to get this knot free. Either I feel good in my pain or I feel good on the hunt, so there’s nothing I can do right now apart from feel good, feel me. Now I’m uncomfortable and I don’t know what to do, this all feels good.