Matters of loneliness and unrest felt and written in another end of days

It's been a long time since my last visit here. Maybe too long. For years I came to this "place" to get away from everything and everyone, to wander in the magic world that is poetry, where words have different meanings, lighter and heavier at the same time. To disguise reality with metaphors not to feel its killing grasp. To be someone else...
I'm here today for the same reasons, and for a new one - the need to throw out some things I just can't throw at people's ears and expect them to understand or accept. In fact, the idea is that no one understands this, some things are meant to die with us. This may be my last one, I'm making it as straight as possible, it doesn't need too many words.
The last year has been a nightmare, every step I take seems to land on another trap. Problems are like snow balls rolling downhill, and I'm the one pushing them down, I'm becoming my worst enemy. I can't blame anyone and I'm all alone because of my mistakes, learning to shut my heart down turned me into a stone, stones are cold and lifeless. No stone has life...
I used to see most things coming, measure the benefits they mgiht bring and the damage they might cause, then I'd decide whether I'd risk diving in or not. Now I'm a stone. No stone has eyes...
The truth is things were never easy, few things seemed to work right, still I held on. Love, faith, hope and such vital things abandoned me long ago, still I held on. I could have nothing else, still I had my standards, my dignity, things that would make me different from most people around, make me better than them. Now I gave up my dignity breaking one of my most important standards, I'be been breaking some lately, I'm becoming what I hate the most - a person. Stones have dignity, they don't speak, they don't betray, they don't look like fools. People are fake, stupid, dumb, full of themselves, they care about nothing but themselves, and truth is - most of them are also ugly. I used to hold on to my dignity. Now what am I gonna hold on to?...
Conscience is an angry screaming voice, secrets are ticking bombs. I'm carrying one right now. If it ticks forever, I'm the only one getting hurt. If it explodes, it will hurt others and me, maybe kill me for good. Good news - it can tick forever. Bad news - it's not only on me. Depending on others was always one of my greatest problems, I don't trust anyone, anything I can't do myself is something to avoid. I got myself in a fucking mess, I can't rest any second, it's fucking killing me...
Life is a hole. I was never too far from the bottom, but now I'm closer than ever...

AFI - "This Time Imperfect"

Great song

Dead

Just because there's blood flowing through his veins and air coming from his mouth that doesn't mean he's alive. In fact I don't think he could ever feel more dead. So skinny, eyes so black, skin so pale and cold, heart so small... Does he even have a heart at all?
Too tired to fight, too dry to cry.
Too quiet to speak, too dead to die.
His joy left him, his hope abandoned him. His dreams destroyed, his emotions shattered. His heart crashed and made a scar on the ground.
Though the world is still up, his has ended long ago. He has no memories of it, the little rest of his sanity's at stake.
Awful visions by day, horrible nightmares at night. His mind is full of the most depressing things we can think of and became a graveyard where he buries everything he sees and thinks so deep no one could ever find it.
There'll be no flowers, no prayers and no chants for him. Death can't take what's already dead...

+08-03-2010+

May you rest in death, since you haven't in life...

A vision of Paradise Lost

I've seen silhouettes of angels with burnt wings, comdemned to walk the path of the fallen in all their pain. I've seen their skin full of scars and open wounds, and their broken bones and bleeding cuts. I've seen the fields of grief. There was no grass, only dust and ashes, and lakes made of blood of the brave and the glorious, who fell in a battle which wasn't theirs to fight. I've seen wooden crosses scattered all over the floor, most half-buried by the sea of cinders that swallowed the pride and the strenght of those who will half-live forever. I've heard the screams of the silenced ones and it filled me with such emptiness that I couldn't even feel a thing. They begged for a spot on the boat of salvation, which was long gone... I felt the rain of tears of the innocent, who thought they lost everything, but they never really had nothing, nothing except their worthless innocence that would unconsciously slow them down wherever they would crawl to. I've seen the bloodthirsty beast, prowling after the children of light, who naively played among the shades of their deceased parents.
There I stood, ruthlessly watching this picture of paradise lost. And as I saw it, The Maker saw it too long ago. And in His uncomparable perfection He realised something was wrong with the picture. He couldn't have created it, cause He was so fucking perfect, so fucking brilliant. He couldn't have such aberrations for children, such torn place for home... So He took His boat and disappeared, sparing our half-lives for something He so fucking tenderly called "love", as if even He knew what that was... Without saying goodbye, without looking back, He abandoned us, left us all alone to rot, thinking He was so fucking merciful...
As I look at the picture and I see what He saw, hear what He heard and feel what He felt, I start to realise some things myself...
No justice in life, no dignity in death. We're born in an illusion, a search for a lost cause, and die ignoring the truth which stood right before our eyes all the time. We try to deny it, we kick and scream in a "no-tomorrow" frenzy. Cause we're too weak, too small to accept or even to understand any part of this chaotic path that only goes backwards. And there are no directions, no maps, only bumps in the road. And you're the best roadkill for the faceless, they keep knocking you down, and then they go over you, again, and again, and again, until you start bleeding and gasping for air. And they began a killing spree, so they come back for you. They won't leave you alone until they send you to your last home, the one where you'll spend the eternity shaking, crying, alone and afraid. And there's no hope for you, not for me, not for anyone. We're doomed from the start, from the first day we step in this unholy ground. And we didn't ask for this. We are forever and forever we are cursed with this half-life of half-accomplishments...

A vision of Post-Life experience

I saw them in my dreams. Endless, lonely beaches where the sea and the sand were made of tears and ashes of those who are gone. Anywhere I'd go, anywhere I'd look, only sea and sand, tears and ashes... They cried of pain and sorrow, and then burned to remain somewhere where no warmth or comfort go for all eternity. The sun shined endlessly, though it was so cold, making me remember all I went through. I remember all the times I sat alone, looking into the fields of age and death, years left behind, running faster than anything you could imagine... I knew my time was coming soon...
I wanted to run, but my legs wouldn't allow me... Strenght to move gave up on me... Seems my body abandoned me in this place where my mind will be forever trapped... All I want is a chance to go back... I have so many things left to do... So many things...
They told me to die with dignity.
There's no dignity in death.
Only pain, suffering and blood tears straight from the heart to those who stay.
Only cold, fear and loneliness to those who are gone. Again, and again... and again...

Interpol - "No I in Threesome"