Brutalize Dreams and Matricide

For a considerable amount of time, I've felt depressed, but for 9 months, I've had horrible dreams.

These dreams consist of being brutalized by ex-lovers and interacting with people I no longer associate with.

I feel sick. These dreams are too much. I am sick.

Mornings I wake up, and I live in the same place. A place of complete static and utter lack of any innovative instinct to change itself. Imprisoned.

The dreams consist of rape, pressure, negation, neglect, and abuse.

I'm tired of feeling depraved and raped.

I try not to dwell on my emotions, but how can anyone control this internal force that sucks the life out of all other, less significant emotions and all brightness.

I understand why I feel pain. It's the control and motivation to change it. Throughout the day, I feel like an emotional puppet and someone chooses whether or not to despoil my consciousness using trigger words.

I oscillate between calm and complete worthlessness.

I need different dreams. I need images of calm and pleasant ideas, where I no longer feel subjected to lack of control and an onslaught of distressed situations.

I need help right now, if anyone knows what to do or say, I would love your insight.

and losing sleep adds so much time
the days can drag my bleeding mind
into a state of jagged shock
that twists and winds but never stops
and dreams are memories as well
and some of them read just like hell

I'm not creepy, just lonely

Last night I had horrible dreams. At one point, I couldn't move, or open my eyes for half a minute. I thought to myself "Oh, a dog must be laying on me, because I can't move." But the more I struggled, the more I realized that my body was causing this episode.

My heart rate increased, but I knew that shallow breathing would only worsen  my situation. I calmed myself down, and after what felt like hours, I woke up.

The following dream felt like an intervention.

I went into a house of someone who I've been intimate with since August. There isn't much  of a relationship behind me and her, just going to a few concerts and hooking up. I was at her house. This guy she's about to date shows up behind me, and I decide to step out of the room.

When I step out of the room, they're gone. I was wondering why I was even brought into this situation. I keep on running to find an exit, but the house seems to perpetuate itself. I run into the same rooms, over and over again, and I get nowhere. I'm trapped and I can't get away of how jealous I feel.

The most hypocritical part was that I emphasized that I didn't love her, and suddenly, I feel jealous? I'm such a fucking hypocrite, and I'm the only person who can point that out. That has been my biggest fear.

It's not that I can control my emotions.

All I can do is let go now. Even though I never really had her. There's other people. "Hell is other people."

For months I've felt that time is always running out. There's never enough time for me. I'm never enough for time.

Maybe that's why it lasted,
why I couldn't see past it, 
I hooked up with this girl
who crashed it.

Dreams are Poisonous

I feel more emotionally stable than I have in years.

Dreams are poisonous. They will consume your life until you deal with issues you despise. Constantly berating your day, in and out, and destroying your happiness by throwing your psyche into a whirlwind of past memories and regrets that you could never undo or avoid.

Dreams are rarely fun. They just introduce you to strange scenarios that you wish you were never put in.

I hope tonight that I eat one of my best friends. I'll wake up happy.

I would tell you more, but few people I would ever describe into detail.

We can always find comfort in our friends, but as Nietzsche said, we rely on friends because they are successful in our failures.

We can't rely on our friends, though, or else we'll become weaker. Instead we must learn from them. We must develop their actions and tendencies that we need, and we will all benefit.

Ploof on Shrooms

Traveling Anarcho-Bike Club Band

To all my friends, I love you so much.

I'm emotionally in debt with a lot of people. Koko, if you still read this, email me.

If you look back on your life, you can remember all the stupid, mentally exhausting, and troublesome experiences you've had with people you love. If not, then I have very serious issues.

The honest truth is: We'll all die.

People change, they leave you all alone and you will have years where you can't cope. We can't always cope, some parts of our lives will just effect us to the point of insanity.

I have to let go of a few people soon. I hate this thought. In a few months, I'll lose frequency and time with people I really appreciate. As much as I want to tell myself that I'll be fine, I won't be. Whenever a person tells themselves they're okay, they've reached a low point.

I can't tell you the promises I've made with people for the past years, in hopes of never getting old and never having to live with. Living in libraries, Robitussin factories, apartments with other people. It's all so idiotic.

The truth is, we'll never be able to stay friends.

We can talk, send letters and meet up for lunch, but we'll always be a day or a year behind.

I can be your crutch but I won't stay for too long. It's times like this that make me want to off myself to spare the pain.

Our friendships, our hours together, they don't mean anything, the time we spend is just for our enjoyment, and may Satan burn my 'soul' for eternity if I ever ruin my times with you.

There's only one solution if you want to live with me forever:

The Traveling Anarcho Bike Club Band
The TABCB is a group of individuals I'm creating when I am able to.

Half of us will be culinary arts majors, the other half will know how to make clothes. I better hunt FIDM hipsters.

In this organization, we won't need money. We won't have to pay for gas, we won't have to pay taxes, we won't have to feel alone. There will be tons of sex. By the orgyful.

We'll all have various instruments. Accordions, theremins, slide flutes and guitarophones. No bongo drums.

We'll squat the world. We won't have to sleep comfortably on mattresses, we'll sleep comfortably on the ground, knowing that we're free.

Sure, we'll probably be shot by radical conservatives, police officers, or street gangs. We'll probably develop infections that will kill us. We'll probably get someone pregnant and carry the child, which might die from lack of medication attention.

In conclusion, we'll be better off dead.

Conclusively, it was a nice thought.

It's a very romantic idea. Sadly, I think you're a few centuries too late for that party. :<

Passion of the Christ

Probably my favorite erotic non-porno film ever.

Intense bondage scenes + hot devil = hard on

Satan is pretty fucking sexy.

I'm very excited. A friend of mine is a former equestrian who might be capable of giving me a whip.

There's a thought that we all seem to get, and my friend Brian seems to have it. 

"How the FUCK did I end up like this?"

I think about that all the time.

Five years ago, I never expected to be who I was today. 

Five years ago I was obsessed with playing and reading Halo novels, listening to AC/DC and having glasses and braces.

Now I'm interested in bondage and listening to crust punk.

So Brian, just wait a year or so, you'll change a shitton. Don't be afraid, though, because it's all up to what you want. 

Hail Satan. (see above picture)

Any Day/Disconnect

Everyday I walk into my bathroom and wash my hands.

Before I touch the towel, I scrub off the dirt with soap.

I had no idea I touch so much dirt everyday.

The dirt doesn't mean anything to anyone. The dirt is just tiny sediment underneath your feet and washing it off is a great inconvenience. You don't understand that the dirt is a milestone of your day.

Watching the droplets of water turn black, the quantity of the dirt is awe-inspiring. I live in a world that tries to cleanse itself, but cannot sterilize itself for the root of phrase it uses: 'dirty.'

Everyday I wash my hands when I get home, and the char reminds me of what I did.

I spent another day on the grass. I spent another day on my ass.

I was hoping for hours to pass. I was trying to not step on glass.

I moved to my right, people were near. 

I step to my left, more people steer

 further

away

They say I'm weird, creepy, scary, apart, unusual. 

I don't understand it. I feel normal. I feel alive. I feel different.

they just judge

no time to waste on thoughts

I find myself ashamed for being associated with these groups of imbeciles. I can't understand how they walk and talk and not spend a millisecond of their time being aware. 

I watch them. Most of my day is spent watching the people. If it's not them I watch, it's the clouds and the sky.

At their parties, they drink and cry. They scream and shout and tell themselves they have a good time.

I watched them, separate themselves from all the others. Groups of inebriated individuals pretending that no one else exists.

They are people. They are weak and harmful. They live to excel, no matter what your cost is.

I admit, I did use people. I used them, and I was never satisfied until I removed them from my lives.

I watch them walk by, and all pretend to not notice that anyone else exists. They just keep their heads straight, as if they were horses with blinders, carrying the jockeys on their backs.

There's never anything one could hate more than feeling disconnected from the people he loves, and the people that love him.

They matter so much and not at all. You can never remove them from your life, but you can always remove your life from theirs. 

"By my honor, friend!" answered Zarathustra. "All that you are talking about does not exist. There is no devil and no hell. Your soul will be dead even sooner than your body - fear no more!"