Imagine Heaven

Imagine heaven, see yourself in a hazed blue with a blank page free to be filled with your sickest desires, unhindered and chained.
Smoked glass and chrome coat a bleak sight line with cascading colours, loathing and hatred flashing in memorium to an existence of old. You place a pen to the page, and creation begins anew

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The Point of No Return

What worries me most of sinking blackness, is how comfortable I lie in in its tendrils
Whisping, crawling, floating over and throughout the most sacred senses, leaving each moment eternal and flashing. Taking with it innocence, it’s hollow cavity devoid of pleasure or grief, Lost in a sea of perfection. when we can stop we don’t want to, when we want to, we can no longer.

Shattered Plaster

Plaster busts a reflection of a fragile self, coated in blood and smashed with hammers, dark smoke rises from shattered reflections as black pigment stains innocence, and we all don masks again come morning.

Incurable

Visions of former sunsets flash behind fluttering eyelids, scared away by the incessant caw of the electric crow, beaconing sight to a feverish reality of wishful narcolepsy and obligate insomnia.
You are awake.
This is a nightmare.

Linear

As the decision maker you are haunted by every choice, evasion not an option one slowly dies.
Dreams encapsulate your bliss, meeting every escape that crosses a path once walked in sweet ignorance, disassociation is key nowadays.
Perhaps that is the soul of indecisiveness, a core realization that a choice made is a choice lived with, a fear of a linear temporality, where nothin can be undone. Thus we meet the curse of life, a liver left to smolder through a mentality of hopelessness. Each flick of the lighter one more step towards an endless dream, I don’t even think I fear it anymore.

Expectation

Failure, creeping, imminent. It seems as though regardless of the steps taken we bask in a sickening darkness of ongoing failure. Expectation and reality in harsh contrast lacking any juxtaposition. Nay, the splattered mess that is living holds no abstract perspective, instead we gaze at a filthy canvas coated in random colours. Hung on a wall onlookers search endlessly for the hidden meaning, only to come up empty handed and missing time. Nihilism coats listless eyes of former brightness as their captors breath fire. Heavy grey filters blocking out the sun. Expectation remains a vision. 

Psychopathy

Flashing between anger and impenetrable sadness, memories take heed, blacking out reality. Relentless visions of violent psychopathy cross-fading between life and the imaginary. Day dreams to nightmares as a cigarette trembles between frozen fingers. Snow fall melting into light brown coffee, a racing mind settled through slow suicide. Looking in from external eyes reveals not but ordinary, the beast dwells within. Slowly devouring a festering soul lost in a stride behind a picket fence. A mask lifted, we meet the truth.

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