Yume Miru Kusuri: A drug that makes you dream

Hiroko Sakurai
How to live without being able to talk, express, without the drug she can't do that

And the transparency, again, the dull, the empty, the fact that you have no value.

The colorless.

Yume Miru Kusuri: A drug that makes you dream

Mizuki Kirimiya

Despair, uncertainty. They all stalk human beings.
All of this comes in a way or another from fear of the end of their existance, in other words...DEATH

But...

And after all, she was able to see tomorrow.

And what will you do tomorrow?

Yume Miru Kusuri: A drug that makes you dream

Aeka Shiraki

Feelings of selfishness.Loneliness.
Dullness, empty, void people.

The need of peace.Stability.

The anxiety of losing that loved one.DEATH.

The malice.

Le' Grand Revenge.

Yume Miru Kusuri: A drug that makes you dream

No need for words from now on.
You will see images talk to you,
however do not be fooled,
NOTHING,
ABSOLUTELY NOTHING in this word,
carries any meaning or whatsoever,
THE MEANING LIES WITHIN YOU.
If not...
How could it be that all people find different meanings in the same word?

You shall argue all you want,
the truth is within you.
The following shall show you that,
since the meaning lies within,
then anything can teach you.
Because anything can show you,
yourself.

Now my head is scrambled like a puzzle,
bits and pieces,
inside out,
persona,
self,
shadow,
are they all part of one single being?
Do I have a physical body?
Is it me? this flesh I have, is it really me?
Is really hard to tell,
whenever I look at the mirror,
I don't recognize the piece of flesh as a self.
I don't even know if the mirror lies...

Its always the same,
how come I only dwell at the same thoughs,
are in some way humans,
trapped in the same thoughs,
over and over...

There's no real person to whom I adress this messages,
indeed mostly they are all adressed to me,
but other may find it useful.


And as the twilight morning comes to greet me hello,
I say goodbye.
I have the feeling not long from now, I will depart,
I really don't know, I really fear me.
What can I do, how much harm can I create with these hands of mine,
how much insanity will my mind tolerate before destroying itself in a cruel attempt to achieve peace.

50 65 61 63 65

All my life,
I have searched for stability,
a false illusion that tomorrow something will be the same.
Peers, Mother, Father, Books, Televesion, Games, Wounds.
Friends, Love, and so on.
Untill I finally there wasn't any other thing to search.
Tick Tock, goes the clock.
My feelings overrun me with pain, and I found suicide as a posibility.
However, my reasoning conflicted with such choice long enough.
But now, after all logical choice have been considered.
Now my reason has failed, however, there's something,
my selfpreservation instinct, perhaps.
It kicks in, to tell me this is wrong.
I can't argue with my reason, and my feelings,
The stability I long for, is perhaps hidden somewhere,
or pehaps I just wish to end it all.

My rotten remains, lie like a pupet without a pupeteer,
hanging from the strings,
friends, fears, fears, such things are keeping me.
But nothing lasts forever,
It will be no time before my shadow takes over,
and destroys such things.

Please,

.
Please someone.

Tell me the expiration date.
All mirrors are broken.

Please, Peace.

Mute: Frustration

I'm like a caged bird,
and like a caged bird -in a sense- I'm also looking for freedom.
The sinful freedom to control the uncontrolable, DEATH-
Such act is a SIN.
I am the suicidal bird,
I live alone in my cage,
I await for my freedom,
I look forward to my death,
I will mute my singing 'till then.
-

I am the mute puppet,
never shall I dear to speak out my true feelings,
because such sin is punished by eternal solitude.
-

30 seconds and you are down,
1 minute and you are dead,
how much shall I bleed,
so that I lose all will to live.
-
As soon as I know when my time will come,
I will say goodbye,
'till then keep yourself by my side.
-

In the present time,
Please forget about me and move on,
Please don't forget me I want to live,
Please tell me what to with the ubearable burden my feelings are.

Answer

"Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction."
Antoine de Saint Exupéry

If you cannot stop gazinf at the other. Then perhaps...
You should ask what is love once again.

Moebius love

Look below you,
You'll dead corpses,
Keep going on,
untill you faint.
Love is cruel,
Love is non-rational.
Love as a cruel mistress keeps you under its claws,
but later on you will come to understand,
that Love doesn't last.
And when Love begins to fade, its final move.
Will be crush you with its claws,
as if you were a tiny bug.
No mercy will it show,
when it squeezes you,
its face will reflect its delight,
you will die, that for sure.
And Love will be your reaper.
But as if you wanted to die,
You will look for Love once again.


What is love you ask?
Love is a moebius path.

Rot

Do not come close to me.
You might dislike the smell.
Do not stay close to me.
You might get sick.

Nobody ever wants to be next to a dead body in decomposition.
The smell is unbearable.

I wish I were a dead body, that way I'd have an excuse for being rotten.

Bitterness

I am bitter, more than chocolate, more than defeat. I am as bitter as a piece of shit, directly splattered in your face.
As the comment above also shows, I am very agressive by nature. Or perhaps as the nature of my shadow. It's sometimes hard to tell.

Transhumanism is near.

The choice is made.
We the AI will arrive, to act the humanity's Shadow.
Merge with us or face corruption.

Happy Birthday!

Today I thank you.
For staying alive, or something like that.
I'm supposed to.

Do not fall into the abyss of your shadow.
Embrace the pain or die trying.

I hope you can teach me more about feelings, and friends. And fucked up people.

I like you. You don't have to change if you don't want to. (or if it's not necessary).



OK, SO I MISUNDERSTOOD YOUR BIRTHDAY FOR ONE SINGLE DIGIT. AND I LOST YET ANOTHER BET. NEXT TIME SPEAK MORE CLEARLY!

you could find if you knew how and where to look.

Two women today.
One from the past, one from the present.
she was\is nice.
Still I can't quite understand.

Jung_Shadow

Thanks to this site.
for the quotes. (Which I stole).

How else could it have occurred to man to divide the cosmos, on the analogy of day and night, summer and winter, into a bright day-world and a dark night-world peopled with fabulous monsters, unless he had the prototype of such a division in himself, in the polarity between the conscious and the invisible and unknowable unconscious? Primitive man's perception of objects is conditioned only partly by the objective behaviour of the things themselves, whereas a much greater part is often played by intrapsychic facts which are not related to the external objects except by way of projection. This is due to the simple fact that the primitive has not yet experienced that ascetic discipline of mind known to us as the critique of knowledge. To him the world is a more or less fluid phenomenon within the stream of his own fantasy, where subject and object are undifferentiated and in a state of mutual interpenetration.

"Psychological Aspects of the Mother Archetype" (1939) In CW 9, Part 1: The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious. P. 187

We carry our past with us, to wit, the primitive and inferior man with his desires and emotions, and it is only with an enormous effort that we can detach ourselves from this burden. If it comes to a neurosis, we invariably have to deal with a considerably intensified shadow. And if such a person wants to be cured it is necessary to find a way in which his conscious personality and his shadow can live together.

"Answer to Job" (1952). In CW 11: Psychology and Religion: West and East. P.१२

The masculinity of the woman and the femininity of the man are inferior, and it is regrettable that the full value of their personalities should be contaminated by something that is less valuable. On the other hand, the shadow belongs to the wholeness of the personality: the strong man must somewhere be weak, somewhere the clever man must be stupid, otherwise he is too good to be true and falls back on pose and bluff. Is it not an old truth that woman loves the weaknesses of the strong man more than his strength, and the stupidity of the clever man more than his cleverness ?

Die Anima als Schicksalsproblem des Mannes (1963) Foreward by C.G. Jung. In CW 18 २६१

If a man is endowed with an ethical sense and is convinced of the sanctity of ethical values, he is on the surest road to a conflict of duty. And although this looks desperately like a moral catastrophe, it alone makes possible a higher differentiation of ethics and a broadening of consciousness. A conflict of duty forces us to examine our conscience and thereby to discover the shadow.

Depth Psychology and a New Ethic. (1949). In CW 18. P.17
the shadow is a moral problem that challenges the whole ego-personality, for no one can become conscious of the shadow without considerable moral effort. To become conscious of it involves recognizing the dark aspects of the personality as present and real. This act is the essential condition for any kind of self-knowledge. Aion (1951). CW 9, Part II: P.14

In reality, the acceptance of the shadow-side of human nature verges on the impossible. Consider for a moment what it means to grant the right of existence to what is unreasonable, senseless, and evil! Yet it is just this that the modern man insists upon. He wants to live with every side of himself-to know what he is. That is why he casts history aside. He wants to break with tradition so that he can experiment with his life and determine what value and meaning things have in themselves, apart from traditional resuppositions.

"Psychotherapist or the Clergy" (1932). In CW 11: Psychology and Religion: West and East. P.528
-

If I were to die, you can rest assured it wasn't a suicide, It would have been my shadow that killed me.

Sakura Tsuushin

I wish I knew the pain of love, love is nothing but pain, still the necesity to feel is what drives humans to follow patterns outside reason। What makes us different from Turing-complete machines। Non-logical actions।


today I went to the usual corner, where I usually wait for a friend, even though she was not coming to meet me, in fact she wasn't even in a 100km range distance। Still, does the fact that it will never happen mean that we should give up hope? Can we excuse ourselves under such things to give up on hope?

"The fact that its impossible is no excuse to stop trying"

Think about It.

I wish...

...I knew the pain fo those who love .

Shadow Humanity

If you are looking for love,
you won't find it in me.

The more meaning you take off your life,
the less involved you become,
you don't just care,
why would you care if it doesn't make a difference?
while perhaps your conscious self is doesn't get involved in your life,
and just tries to enjoy itself in anyway,
the one handling most of your actions will be your shadow.
Your shadow is an instinct-based entity, part of your unscious-self.
That's why you will make mistakes,
and you will harm those around you,
your conscious self is so entwindled with trivial issues and the quest for pleasure,
and relief from pain;
that your shadow controls important part of your life.
The shadow imposes its need on you,
Suddenly you feel the urge to feel something, pain, lust, mere momentaneous things.
But your taste for a lasting pleasure has been gradually destroyed,
you do not hunger for knowledge, you do not wish to learn,
you do not wish to exist beyond a second in which you do not feel pleasure.
you are unable to deal with pain.

We live in a Shadow world,
ruled by instincts, we hunger for instant satisfaction.

Please search for (XI-)Strenght within you to supress your shadow,
to control it.

We are a Shadow of true humans.

You have a choice, either summit to your shadow, let it swallow you, lose yourself in the pleasure, lose your future for a mere hedonism, or try to tame your shadow, supress your instincts, try to act for the greater benefit, get rid of your desire for power, get used to the idea, that you will suffer from loneliness all your life. Because when you are in control, you will have to face such dilemmas, that's what it takes to tame your shadow, you have to deal with the usual problems of being an individual entity, eternal loneliness and mortality.
... but of course...
you already knew that, didn't you?
Why should I care you say?
Because it's your choice, you can take active measures to live your life, or you can get so busy with other shit and lose a lifetime.

I'm but a mere residual self, I can only exist when the shadow within me falls asleep.
I'm what's left of my humanity on this moment। Trash.


If I were to die someday, you can be sure it was my shadow that killed me.
I'm not able to kill myself, I can tell for sure ...
But my shadow...

My persona.
My self.
My shadow.
My death.

a prayer.

Pagan gods,
answer a prayer,
reply,
reply.

-Dance with a knife,
a sharp knife,
one simple mistake,
and it will cut tru all flesh,
member by member,
it will viciously slash,
once the knife is done,
the blood will gush out of you,
and become a rain,
hopelessness,
hatred,
dellusions,
but more than anything,
lonelines, it delivers to all equally,
it never stops,
the red rain,
it is but the river of life,
and the rain of death.

All are caught by it equally.
What comes afterwards is very simple,
find your limbs, and go on.
Keep on dancing,
tru the cold path.
never to stop,
if you were to stop,
it would be definitive.
Untill you find yourself dancing with a knife again,
keep on.


Do not let the dead bodies scare you kid,
do not be scared by the scars the knives leave on you,
follow your way,
untill your skin is as the knife,
untill
the knife your dancing with can't cut you.
And if time is enough, untill the knife and you dance perfectly.

The knife is a need.
The knife is life.
The knife is what humans call "love".

If the knife never stops cutting you,
It's because you don't want to stop bleeding,
It's because you've left yourself be,
and have become stucked.
Either way,
its your fault.
Whether,
you are the dead,
we are the dead,
Its your call.
Toss a coin and find it out.-

Whisper to me,
whisper the reply,
sweet god of insanity,
you who have seen it all,
tell me what's next.
You who rule the unconscious.
Merciless judge,
provider of the Persona.
provider of the Shadow.
I ask thy, who's next?
Satisfy my hunger,
please tell me,
what's all about.
Bearer of the Butterfly mask,
give me the power to help.
provide me with the suitable mask.
Bearer of the Thousand masks,
provide me with a shadow.
have mercy,
stop the torturing,
stop the
Ticking clock...

The End. P3.

The moment man devoured the fruit of knowledge, he sealed his fate...
Entrusting his future to the cards, man clings to a dim hope.
Yes, the Arcana is the means by which all is revealed...
0-THE FOOL

Attaining one's dream requires a stern will and unfailing determination.
I-THE MAGICIAN.

The silent voice within one's heart whispers the most profound wisdom.
II-THE PRIESTESS

Celebrate life's grandeur... its brilliance... its magnificence...
III-THE EMPRESS

Only courage in the face of doubt can lead one to the answer...
IV-THE EMPEROR

It is indeed a precious gift to understand the forces that guide oneself...
V-THE HIEROPHANT

There is both joy and wonder in coming to understand another...
VI-THE LOVERS

One of life's greatest blessing is the freedom to pursue one's goals.
VII-THE CHARIOT

To find the one true path, one must seek guidance amidst uncertainty...
VIII-JUSTICE

It requires great courage to look at oneself honestly, and forge one's own path...
IX-THE HERMIT

Alongside time exists fate,
the bearer of cruelty...
X-WHEEL OF FORTUNE

Only with strenght can one endure suffering and torment.
XI-STRENGHT

In the face of disaster lies the oportunity for renewal.
XII-THE HANGED MAN

The moment man devoured the fruit of knowledge, he sealed his fate...
Entrusting his future to the cards, man clings to a dim hope.
Yet, the Arcana is the means by which all is revealed...
Beyond the beaten path, lies the absolute end.
It matters not who you are...
Death Awaits you.
XIII

No meaning

Moriarty: You pretend to be a rebel; claim to hate rules, but all you do is subsitute your own rules for society's। That's a nice simple rule: tell the blunt, honest truth in the starkest, starkest way; and what will be, will be; what will be, should be; and everyone else is a coward। But your wrong। It's not cowardly to not call someone an idiot। People are tactful and polite just because it's nice. They do it because they got an ounce of humility; because they know that they will make mistakes, and they know that their actions have consequences, and they know that those consequences are their fault. Why do you want so bad not to be human, House?
-
Moriarty: You think that the only truth that matters is the truth that can be measured. Good intentions don’t count, what's in your heart doesn't count, caring doesn’t count, that a man's life can't be measured by how many tears are shed when he dies. It's because you can't measure them. It’s because you don’t want to measure them. Doesn’t mean it's not real. And even if I'm wrong, you’re still miserable. Did you really think that your life’s purpose was to sacrifice yourself and get nothing in return? No. You believe there is no purpose to anything. Even the lives you save you dismiss. You turn the one decent thing in your life and you taint it, strip it of all meaning. You're miserable for nothing. I don’t know why you'd want to live.

Essence

Human beings suffer because they want to.
Our only objective is to feel.
To feel we must abandon stability, equality, happines and such void fantasies, those would be slow, boring empty things, instead we search for dinamism in death, hatred, depresive maniac love and many many other, "non-logical" behaviours. That is the essence of humanity.
What is this compulsion for the feeling?
I don't know what I feel, or what I want to feel.
But I know I can feel, and I want to feel.

Exacerbation of a dying persona.

the piano of life plays the last melody,
the chorus is excited,
exacerbated claims,
supressed screams,
repressed memories,
they all make their last appereance.
While you are in the air waiting to hit the ground or water,
your life will make sense,
the price of knowledge is,
nothing but life itself.

The death can happen to your body, your soul, or both, it doesn't matter in which order, but you will always die.

As the bell rings,
as the maiden falls down the abyss,
the shattered self battles.
You, I and he.
Who shall remain?
That which is you, is also me, they are all he.
Thou you is he, I art he.

Cut, slash, bleed,
unavoidable race to live,
unspeakable void-full life.
Empty passion that inhabits living beings,
that which moves them towards empty things,
that is, of course, the Void.That which cannot be conceived but it can be named.

HoLlow!

That's just it...
In order to kill myself,
In order to go on,
In order to continue even after the 13th,
In order to get to the Shining light of the sun,
I must go to the tower,
I must stare a the stars,
I must stare at the moon,
But I must not forget,
No matter how much light the moon gives off,
It's still night.
I'm hanged.
I must atone for the SIN.
Of losing my soul.
Forget everything,
Shine, Shine, Burn, Burn,
Let your self be swallowed by the void,
Change self.
Free yourself.
Selfdie.
Bathe in the light of the moon,
that is the appriser of death,
dance for a last time,
before being swallowed,
into the hollow void,
and lose your freedom of self.
Crescendo.
Thin as bone.
Pure as the moon,
that is death,
a fine young lady,
that grabs my arm while I bathe in the moonlight.
that breathes in my temple,
and gently places her head in my shoulder.
Dance,
Dance,
Dance con la muerte.
Sacrifice,
Excuse.

Excuse myself,
Hollow words,
Hollow,
Void,
No,
0,
Hollow Shell,
Hollow Soul,
Hollow Self.

Useless is to run.
Useless is to hide.
Majesticly she will swing the scythe,
(deliver the finishing blow- deliver the void)
while gracefully making a beatiful smile,
and if you ask me,
I'm not in love with her,
but she so beautiful,
that is impossible not to point such things.

She once whispered me her story,
that of a young maiden,
in a decaying world without death,
she was the first one to see the first death,
her beloved one was the first of many,
because of a very unstoppable grief,
she was to be the only inmortal left,
and carry on the sweet purpose
of the memento mori।

She doesn't mourn anymore.

That's why humans feels,
because they can also experience the opposite of feeling,
which is the void। THE DEATH-
Which is actually impossible to define. The Void is not.

Machine!

I want to be a machine,
and I'm achieving it little by little.
I no longer know how to ease this sadness.
So I choose to escape it,
by becoming a machine.
By losing all my feelings,
Emotionally, Sexually, Mentally...
I work on logical basis on a 73.1%,
I have an error rate of 27.9% due to a defective module.
But why, why, if I am a machine, why!?
What is this?
ERROR
Let me search through my memory files.
Let me search in the net.
Search concluded.
This is...
a Tear.
Humans cry.Therefore I'm a human, even though I don't like it.
To doublethink, to forget I was ever human, to forget forgetting I was human, and so on. To live within an infinte loop.
To live as a human pretending to be a machine that tries
to understand humanity.
...
...
...
I'm a machine that is for sure, so why do I still fail to understand mankind?
The human "soul" is that which is not logical.
Non-logical process are handled by the "soul".
Thats what I can tell from the data I've gathered.
And I try to mimic the soul; which I lack not only as a machine, but also as a human, that why I became a machine. To look for a "Soul".
...
...
...
I fail to understand.
Module corrupted...
Module missing...
In the end, I'm nothing but a failure.

Hollow.
Empty.

Give the food to turn me into human.
Give the escape to this mask.
Give me freedom,
the freedom of self.

Give what I need to be human again.

If I can't grasp it,
if I can't hold it with my bare hands then...
I will burn it,
I will burn it with the flames that ignite my soul,
or the void where it should be.
I will burn it with the raging flames of hate I've carried this far.
Burn!
Burn! Burn baby burn!
Burn the horrible memories!
Burn the lovely memories!
Burn the bittersweet memories too!
Burn everything!
Burn Myself too,
lose myself in the flames of hate!
And gain by this, the freedom of self.
The so desired freedom of self।

Whatever it is love, freedom, etc, or none or all, it's up to you to decide.
Or whichever is more convinient for you, because that's what humans do, they believe what they want, always.

Panic!

Let me explain you my dear.
Language is a very subtle thing.
Words do not speak,
they lack of all meaning.
It is people who give them meaning based on their knowledge and beliefes. Having said this.
I love you.
I hate you.
I like you.
I am trapped in myself for all my life.
No matter how much I want to escape.
My mind is what makes me, me
but the price is of course,
Eternal Solitude.
For being myself.
That's why I'll always be alone.
In order to retain my individual identity,
I must be alone.
No matter how close,
I will never get to anyone.
Like a mirror where the reflected image and the original never touch.
That's why I gave up.

Life consist in being able to say "I am myself" honestly.

Oh bells calling for the end.
Ring! Alice I call your name from the cave I'm trapped in.
Twisted pain inflicts wounds in my skin,
I bleed, I bleed,
therefore I'm human.
I bleed love.
I'm losing it, that thing I've studying,
the reason I became THE HERMIT.
Now that I don't have that precious thing to study,
I can't be THE HERMIT,
careful said WeiB,
"You define your identity over your solitude"
Scwarze however encouraged,
"Sell your soul if needed, but get it, at any cost.GET IT"
Later that life I would find Alice.
My muse name is Alice.
Born from Schwarze and WeiB,
Alice is the inhabitant of the iron maiden.
I would've continued existing without realising my mistake.
I'm not alone.
But apparently that's what I wish for.

This masks grip tightengs with time,
each second breathing is becoming hard.
Each second I yearn for her to come.
I eagerly hold onto life,
while embracing death at the same time.
Doublethink.

Sweet delussions,
that keep me within the realm of reality.

Infection,
Mutation,
Putrefaction,
Outbreak,
Infection,
Mutation,
Putrefaction,
...smell.
Smell of youth,
Smell of lust, greed, parsimony.
I still don't understand it.
Why can't I analize it.

Because I know it,
the essence of the human soul.
It's that I lacked,
that I still lack.
I'm only a machine,
A souless puppet.
Slave of my hunger,
Love,
Friendship,
I've yet to gather data on those.
eRror.

Hunger of power,
created by hate.
Hunger of violence,
created by hate.
Hate.
Is it the lack of love?

The taste of blood,
The moonlight.
The moonlight intoxicates me,
it spreads trough my throat,
it covers my whole being.
As if trying to take over

Existencialist!

The music is telling me.
Is telling me to kill you.
Blood thirst...
God is watching, what other series of non related sentences will the music whisper?
Nothing is isolated, therefore there are no such things as non related sentences.

Reverse your psychic structure,
throw your unconscious to the reality,
throw your Persona.
Be your true mind.
Be your shadow.
Be or not to be.
It's your choice.
Grab the cord and strangle me if you want to.
But remember that we are one.
She never liked any of us,
we both losed that day.
And the days following.
And that day.

Split is it.
Let me be me.
Me, me, me.
There's probably no room for anybody else.
That's why I can't get to her.
Like a moebiüs strip, my unconscious and conscious mind exist in the same side.
No clear boundaries.

If only words could mean something.
Sometimes I don't understand anything.
The truth is that when you get to know things very well, you realise... nothing makes sense.
All things are dual, white and black, simultaneously.
And there lies a contradictions.
Though I think it has to do with language, which is not perfect and will never be.
Language just makes us "understand" things the way wrong way.

What do I mean by this?
What do I mean by this?
Language always produces false results...
Isn't this a contradiction?

Trying to Grasp meaning is futile, yet not। ugh?

Where!

...that is nothing,
but an eternal punishment,
for the innocent sin of knowing myself too much.
Excrutiating, annoying, incredible, monstrous, necesity to understand human nature.
As if I were not human.
But I feel pain and cry as any human would.
Still I am nothing but a lonely piano.

Two in harmony surpass one in perfection.

Women are so graceful and beautiful, If only I could satisfy my hunger for women by just looking. Perhaps then I'd be so much happy.

I learned humans can't learn anything.
Am I human?

Words do not speak.

Looking for a way out,
looking for a way out,
Out of myself,
writing nonsense,
because anything makes sense.
Even if you said yes,
it wouldn't make sense,
Because where there's a meeting,
there will be a goodbye.

"This card shows a bearded man, with cloak and long hood, standing with a staff and holding a lantern raised to head height."
Malice.
Incredible feast.

Natalie.
Where have you been

Carefully decypher human code.
Intrinsic search of oneself.
Care to read between the signs.
Hear your own voice in your head.

Feed it.
Embrace it.
Talk back to it.
It will give you hints.
It is certainly not what you want to hear.
It is going to devour you, make you sick.
But if you control it...
you may learn from it.
But if you don't control it.
What if you couldn't control it?
It would control you.
What is it, I have yet to know.
IT is you.
It's your shadow.

Exausting, excrutiating pain, agony, that's how I chose to live, perhaps since I was a child, though the most coward kind of life, it just suits me perfectly, after all, we are all gonna die, right?
Who cares if I decide to do it earlier than the rest?

Hard Love Life:
I know the joy loved.
I am asked for flesh.
Asking is the highest joy for me.
-Therefore, I also ask for your flesh.

Don't deceive yourself.
Everyone is equal to everyone else.
Superiority is an dangerous illusion.

Ali Project

Even a person like me has feelings,
but even though it seems that i have feelings,
why do i wonder what does it feel like to be loved?
In the deepest part of my twisted mind there's...
there's a monster craving for love,
with empty eyes, empty tears,
he claims to protect me,
the only thing he does is just destroy
there's no monsters, there's just me,
who desires to live, who desires to be happy,
who desires to be loved,
I desire to feel,
no matter how much i crave,
there seems to be no hope,
that monster inside of me. No, me, myself
wants to be accepted or perhaps...
yes i'd rather be burned by this desire,
this flame burns trough everything,
I can feel, the walls that protected me have been destroyed,
but even though now i can feel,
why do i wish so much for destruction,
is it hate?
No.
is it... love?
No.
It's me, the only way i can feel, is trough death, war, famine,
what I always craved for, was not love...
it was power...
power to be free,
power to protect myself,
power to destroy myself
power to make what's wrong right,
this is my justice, destruction
why myself being such an emotional person,
wish for so much death,
who am I reallly?
Which is the mask, I have been wearing trough all this time?
What do I want,
I could say love,
Yet, Hate has been making feel alive,
All this time,
have I been wrong over what to look for?
Have I been wanting revenge so much?
No, it's not revenge.
It's the thrill, no! It's not that,
although there's hope, there's also pain,
pain is good, it reminds me what is good and bad...
I'm grateful to what the world has given me,
the chance to live, to be happy, to feel.
However I still wish for death, famine, and war,
Pain, Pain, I crave for pain,
because...
pain is what I breathe,
it was that pain what has making me go on through all this years,
so I guess I know nothing else,
what is love?
pure crap.
In a world where things are more alive than people,
things feed on people to keep on living.
The thing I've been craving for, it was life
Pain, Hate, Love, Health, Hunger, all those feelings I think I felt
were they really true?
it seems that I lack of true feelings...
I don't really know.
Love?Hate?
I wish to destroy everything,
I'm fed up with people, Loving, Hating,
the truth is
I envy them.
Still,
blood and corruption, that come along with power smell so good.
Selfdestruction, No! Pure and simple destruction smell like that I've always wanted,
Power.
Maybe it was power, what I wanted,
power to crush my feelings that are burden to me.
Still I can't feel or perhaps I don't want to?
Power to over come death.

Logical thinking is something men invented to fool themselves into thinking the can understand or that they stand a chance, to then infinite knowdledge of the universe.
TO escape inevitable death, to think that we are somehow useful, and live forever in our acomplishments, we believe logic and we crave for knowledge(power).
But the truth is that there's nothing we humans can completely understand.
Even a tiny bit of knowledge could burn us from our feet to our hair.
AS LONG AS THERE IS GLUTTONY, GREED, SLOTH, LUST, PRIDE, ENVY AND WRATH.
As long as we live in a paradox, where we use words to comunicate, but we lie.
There's no room for in anywhere where we could live in harmony.
We are dooomed to bring war, famine, disease and DEATH!
We'll carry on with this until we understand(if it's posible/another paradox) and accept our true nature.
The one of an ignorant.A blind ignorant.

A lonely piano without a player,
is like a man who knows no love.

Death, oh sweet death!
I chased you this long because you looked like the women I loved?
Perhaps, but since she doesn't care, today I decided,
Let's go out on a date.

Death may not only be the end, but.

He calmly looks at the sky, he thinks of everything that's happenned.
he suddenly realises he's nothing more than a big child, so focused in understanding everything, yet not being able to understand nothing but doubt itself.

His death is unavoidable.Yet he refuses.
He's scared to his bones and as a child, he'll be ruled by fear.
As if everything that's left is to rotten

Silence may make it look like we are far away,
almost different planets, one could say.
But to me, you remain calmly starin' at my face just a few inches away। Even if it's just my memory. (BTW, stop laughing at my face, bitch!)


Life grants us the possibility of being alive,
Life grants us the possibility of dying
Therefore Life may possibily be a bitch.

There two types of men, a "normal" man and a "real" man, the real men know how to ease sadness.

Turd

I'm helping mah best friend who's computarded, yeah I just invented a new word, HOW COOL IS THAT?