I don't know

The same cycles.  The same circuit.  The same feeling of sameness.

Something drastic is coming.

Ataraxia

Froze asleep
Coma deep
I dream I'm out with you
Alone at sea

And you watched the waves
And you sang to me
As we sink
I dream I'm out with you

Trapped beneath
Kept below the sea
This dream I had with you
Alone at sea

And we watched the waves
You sing to me
As we sink
This dream I had with you

Alone at sea

No really, everything's fine

The reason we're all disfigured
I will say it again
The reason we're all disappointed
with innocence lost
You're alone
You can feel the resentment
burning a pathway
straight to your heart
I say, kingdom come

Maybe your life is wonderful
I wish you well
Please understand I won't change you,
so grant me the same
I know this:
There's a plain white horizon
I want it so badly
It seems after all
that your will be done

And it's done
Reaching out
And it's done

We are all defenseless now
On your own, you left somehow
with these broken bones
These broken bones
But I am one with these chains
Come around and I regain
with my broken bones
My broken bones

The reason we're all disfigured
I will say it again
The reason we're all disappointed
with innocence lost
You're alone
You can feel the resentment
burning a pathway
straight to your heart
I say, kingdom come

32

Life is stale.  Words are empty.  Ritual is disconnecting. Reaching is straining.  Pulling back is frightening.  Time is threatening.  There's me, and then there's a barrier; then, there's you.  Life is perpetual aphelion and thematic loneliness.  Words, really, are empty.

Cries on the Wind

Reaching out,
How things look different
on the way down
Disillusioned,
I've lost desire
Will I burn
in the unforgiving fire?

From the flames
I walk away
I've found a way
to erase the pain
An empty bottle,
my receptacle
A guardian angel
called escape

Don't dwell
on the forthcoming,
'cause I know
it won't be happening
You know
when I'm gone,
you'll hear my cries
on the wind...

Solo(w)

Inserting all the tools upon the broken talking dog
If bleeding dirty shadows of the drawing on the wall
A funded self of science from disorder and decay
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say
Its chaos makes you crazy and the real is left to say

Sustained weeping his leaves
The summing of trees
The simplest thing
Living in solo
Living is so low

Burn(ing)

I don't sleep much.  Not because I am too busy, but because I just don't really want to.  I'm exhausted all day, I get home, and could go straight to bed.  But I stay up, thinking.

I keep doing the same things, over and over.  I keep losing people by pushing them away, or having them drift further and further.  I'm always scared to cut ties, because I don't want to sink back into myself.  I try not to let myself get too dark.  But I've reached a turning point, or a tipping point, or a point of no return.

Whether I like it or not, it's what I have to do.  I have to go under.

I think about other people too much.  I worry and miss them and put all I have into comforting them and giving them a point of positivity to draw from.  I give my life too often.  I can't allow myself feelings anymore.  I have to go under.