Old writings of a man with no hope

"Yes, there is no Fate for us
Only those who are swallowed by
Ignorance and fear and miss a step
Fall into the rapid river called Fate"

"If it rusts, it can never be trusted
If its owner fails to control it, it will cut him
Yes, pride is
Like a blade"

"No, nothing can change my world"
-Black Moon Rising

"Those who do not know what love is
Liken it to beauty
Those who claim to know what love is
Like it to ugliness"

"Everything in this world
Exists to wear you down"

"There is no meaning to our world.
There is no meaning to those of us living there.
We meaningless beings ponder the world,
Though the realization of meaninglessness
Means nothing itself."

"Break down,
Every single one of you"

"We are all
Born dead.
The end exists
Before anything begins.

If living
Is a constant quest for awareness,
The awareness we gain at the end is the real goal.
In other words, death
Is the discovery and complete understanding
Of the end.

We are not permitted to seek awareness.
Those that cannot transcend death
Will not find awareness in anything"

"We have
Not one
In common
No two
Are shaped alike
The third
Because of that eye we lack
In the fourth
Direction there is no hope
The fifth
Is at the heart"

"Endlessly adorned
Knowing it will be cut off,

Endlessly polished
Knowing they will be cut off,

They are terrifying, terrifying
In their fall.

The hair flutters to the ground
A lifeless husk.

Hair and fingernails
Are beautiful ornaments.
So why do they seems so baleful
When removed?
The answer is simple.
They are
Previews of what is to come, of death."



I first read these 3 years ago with no understanding, but great respect. I stand now staring at them with great understanding, but no respect.

I'll post more of them when I find them.

So you see these circles you run in? I guess not, from there, it seems like a series of interesting curves. . . If I tell you, you'll attack me, or you. . . And frankly, I'm not sure which I'm more scared of. I actually don't think it scares me now. . . I don't think it'll work long run however, besides, all circles have an end.

Lee Cutler

Look him up. Knowing the full story, there's many parallels between us, too many it seems. . . The difference is I'm smarter.

Σ(￣。￣ﾉ)ﾉ

Agh, this is weird. . . I've gone my whole life dealing with immature children, adults, pretty much everybody has always been arrogant, and childish, when it happens, it's not that big of a deal, but what's really weird is when someone I'm having a problem with starts acting maturely. . . completely throws me off. . . Also, if you think I'm talking about you, I'm not.

MOON

"I hate rain.  When you are sad, the rain comes down. . . when you are moody, it becomes cloudy.  It rains in here, too.  I can't stand it.  Can you understand?  How horrible it is to get rained on when you are all alone in an empty world?  I'll lend you whatever help you need!  In order to prevent that from happening. . . I won't let one drop of rain fall from that sky!  If you can trust me. . . trust me. . . you are not alone in this. . ."

Fall

I would sing the world to sleep.
In their dreams they would not weep.
Rain eternal on sea shores,
for those crawling on all fours.

Listen night and listen sky,
do not ask me why I cry.
For in running I can't see,
all the monsters chasing me.

Does this make sense to no one?
Or in circles do I run?
With this shadowed, hidden veil,
being rent with sudden wail.

As these demons finally see,
What they have done to me,
Oh how little are my eyes,
Eclipsed by their dark lies.

In this night, tears I don't shed
fill the room with senseless dread.
Am I destined to be found?
Will I ever turn around?

Will these demons finally see,
The rivets left in me?
Will they walk onto the shore?
Or will their wings unbeat no more?

Will they ever run in dread,
from the Angels they have fed?
Will their nightmares ever End,
When they come to me again?

Do I have to cause them pain?
Can they see me yet again?
Will I ever wish them ill?
Will I see they've had their fill?

In the calling, starving rain,
Monsters begging me again.
Beating on their empty chests,
freedom is in sight at last!

Onward into hell's embrace!
For the devil we shall face!
As the world is crashing down,
the lost shall finally be found!

The captors and the prey,
In the darkness shall ever lay.
As the kingdoms are fulfilled,
and the journey is last sealed.

This is, here, our salty shore,
we shan't walk forever more,
In the dead of night we came,
Here to take and eat the blame.

The Encounter

"I'm no one.  

I don't want to be anyone.  

All I care about is completing my conviction.  

This world is completely worthless, there's nothing left in it but misery.  

You have grown up and have endured the misery that comes with your roles, have you not?  

You should understand that misery a little."

"My 'role' isn't all that bad.  

.

 .

 .

 .

 .

 .

 .

You can call yourself no one, you can start a war, but even in this world you think is 'worthless', no one's falling for your dumbass lies!  

You can change your mask and take on as many names as you want, but you're still you, you're just one guy!  

And I've had enough!  

My conviction is now this:  I'm gonna tear that mask right off your face!"

I thought I had problems with conviction

But that's because I'm swimming against a current. . . Because it only drags yOu into choppy waters. You wonder how you got there? Ask me, I'll be honest. You're not bad and youre not good, you need help and you need to help. The conviction art process is born on the paradoxical basis of attraction. It's why beauty is hideous, and filth is illusion wry and at the same time binding. Do what you will, but don't turn back and yell into the waves that you live on different levels. Your the same, and there's this idea born of ignorant cruciality that we have a right to reason. You find a way to live in this world or don't; but don't tell me you dont do the same as any other with their hypocritical benignities. If you can't fight for the world or for your place in it then why do you think it gives a shit about you?

Junk transcribed from the failed wit of the insufferably verbatim

Please.


Just let these people fade into monoliths of intricated measure.  Let the walls build themselves and hide our view of the endless space.  
I stand here freezing but I'm not cold.
I stand here wounded but I'm not hurt.
I stand here dying but not of thirst.
I lay here falling but I'm just still.

This is one for the halcyon, the days of unmeasured pace and windless flight.  This is one for the winding rays of twisting notes, burning, edging, thriving, driving into the walls of recollected envy.
Woe is the night!  Stinging with these eyes of twinkling black.  Gliding and sliding through flesh, bone, and muscle into the hearts of those willing to leave their paradigmal glory for the vast reaches of it's limitless cage.


These eyes drag on, resisted by the lumping echoes of empathetical torment.  Will these hearts yet burn?  Or was  the value cut short from before the first destination?  
I say, I said, I say, "why?". For with out, can there be?  And if there is, then what gives right, for the indignation of reason?

こにわしにます

Do you know what happens when your world falls apart?

Absolutely

















Nothing.

The leaves change color, and the waves crash on course. . . As the ripples spread they weaken. . .

Right now I have so much darkness it's scary, really, to me. Which is unusual in itself, but I take solace in the fct that I recognize I'm not being the best I can, which means I'm actually better than I am. It means I realize I can be better, rather than just should as usual. Hope. . . The problem is I want to kill it.

Beauty often seduces us on the way to truth

The truth is beautiful, we wouldn't search otherwise.

I may be coming back sooner than expected, all is well

I found what I was missing.

They cannot see the way ahead
when Sun is gone, and Moon is dead.

We walk and push through our lives, all of us.  And I feel like I can see them. . . going in their little circles. . . they seem rather, fruitless at times, and I know we feel that way. . . why do I write we?  I guess it gives that feeling of communion or togetherness.  Things have been messed up for weeks and more and more things keep coming and confusing this mind. . . I found out yesterday. . . this is the training ground. . . I always saw my life as moving, that my birth was just the beginning of the end. . . I couldn't see it moving anywhere but the end. . . that's not a bad thing, but there isn't an end, I just figured everything would be sorted out after that and I'd just see what happens then. . . what i forget is that, my life hasn't started yet. . . I'm just waiting. . . waiting. . . waiting. . . and I've been afraid that this was true for the longest time. . . that I haven't begun yet. . . now that I know I haven't. . . it seems worthless. . .not quite. . . but the value is certainly. . . less. . . I think, what do the things I have in my life matter if it's not begun yet, I realized it doesn't. . . I also realized I don't want to keep or make that book anymore. . .I realized. . . I need to look forward, and around. . . not backward. . .  So. . . I'm not giving up. . . I thought I needed these things. . . us. . . to keep going. . . I thought I had so much. . . ability. . . and responsibility. . . but now I realize. . . I really don't. . . I am. . . looking. . . and reaching to find and start these things early. . . but that's not me now. . . and there has always been so much I want. . .I'm not necessarily avaricious. . .but, I desire. . . there's good and bad there, but I've always thought it would just sort of, happen. . .that I was in the midst of the troubles, and somehow I, then, deserved. . . my greatest arguement is, "Know ye not, that ye are not your own. . ."  How oft to forsake the power we crave indefinitely. . . why must I drag these things on. . . lead these passages of my life through these dark corridors. . . to sum up the entire post:  I'm dumb, but I'm changing that. . . don't worry about me. . . I may not come back. . .