An empty street. The night is filled with the sound of my uneven walk. The dull sound of the two beat klipity-klop my robust shoes produce. It is disturbed by the annoyingly uneven harsh sound of the boots dragging against the hard asphalt from time to time. My mind is still buzzing from the discussion I just had about some unsolvable problem of humanity, that I have miraculously discovered a solution for. Harshly I am tossed back into reality by the realization of my surroundings.
The naked street howls ominously from the cold wind. It rings from the cacophony of sounds the arctic spring breath plays. It seems as if a symphony of childhood fears and an old man’s dread fell all around me. Directly across, a seemingly plain metal fence, collides with an object of a similar complexion blasting, deafeningly, through my mind. It leaves only a picture of a night terror slamming its vicious weapon against the helpless fence. The limbless tree becomes a limbless horror, shrieking maliciously as it reaches with its phantom limbs looking for anything living. The gentle thump of water drops against the surface of the draining pipes changes into a violent thundering roar that pushes everything around it to a panicked run. Bushes take on the shapes of beasts, and their sweet rustle becomes a torture to the senses. The pavement reaches out with its cracks, now turned into chasms, threatening to eat the light of the world. Every step brings with it another horrid apparition, haunting my bewildered mind. The entrance to my home is near. My safe haven from the madness of the night, my eye of the storm. Ferociously, I fight to reach the door. The handle bites my hand with frost, threatening to consume it. I open the door. The symphony reaches it climax, and as the door slams shut, so do the borders of my halo close. I am safe. The sounds are beyond the door, and cannot reach me any more. I am safe…

I am home.

  I became what I am
because of who I was
and what happened

It’s not because of what you did
or what you didn’t do
it’s because of who you were
and who you weren’t

My heart is racing

Pounding in my chest like a drum

I gasp for breath

I cannot find any

I am choking

My lungs cry in desperation

But no air comes to them

Suddenly it rushes in

An overwhelming torrent of air

Instead of relief, I feel only pain

Dizzily I reach

I reach for you, I reach for myself, I reach for anything

The pain grows too strong, too too strong

I faint

Only darkness exists now

All memory of light has faded from the very core of my being

I hide, curled in a ball

Tears gather in the corners of my eyes

And as the first tears roll down my cheeks

The darkness pushes against my chest

I cannot hold it

All sanity is lost

The tears won’t stop

Such pain, such agony

It is unbearable

I wish for it to end

I wish for it all to end

But I fight, clenching to the remnants of my sanity

I know there still is some of it to clench to

There has to be

I feel it in the corner of my mind

Mimicking the curled, pathetic, little ball I am

I remember the moments

The moments that had filled my life with joy and light

I cling to them, as a dying man clings to life

Am I dying?

It feels like I am

I am confused

The words that you speak to me are blurred

I cannot hear them

For the words that you said before

Brought such agony and despair

I fear to know more

The darkness overwhelms me again

I start falling

It seems like I will fall forever

I wish it so

For I do not wish to know anything else

Not what you said

Not what I felt

Not what happened

I just want to fall

Forever

Oblivious

defects-:

(by Arefeh N)

bookshelfporn:

Suspended Books Magically Fill Swiss Tunnel

I was lying there, in my own pool of vomit, trying to remember how I got there. I looked around. Nothing seemed familiar. Not that anything was familiar these days… I tried to stand up. My legs failed me, I fell. Once again I was lying in the exact same situation I was in, a moment ago. U tried to stand up again. Well, I can’t say I was surprised when the concrete floor hit me. Life hasn’t been kind to me. To tell the truth, it was a lot like this situation. Falling, time and time again, into my own vomit, not being able stand up. I kinda made my peace with that a long time ago. Was it a long time ago? I can’t seem to remember. The past few years are a blur to me, just a series of falls i couldn’t recover from. I tried to stand up again… Do I really need to say what happened? Say to whom? Have I finally gone mad? It would certainly be a relief, going mad. 
I stood up this time…
Everything was blurry. The world seemed to be an inside of a washing machine. Just spinning, and spinning, and spinning. I let out a small chuckle. The sound of my voice was strange. As if haven’t spoken in days. Have I? Great, I’m talking to myself again…
It seems I haven’t had a drink of water for a while either. I looked around. The room was bare. A faint light was coming from somewhere above. I tried walking towards it, bad idea. I fell. The only good thing was, I missed the vomit this time. I have tried, earlier in my life, to find happiness in the lucky breaks I got once in a while. Well, my current situation speaks for it self, it didn’t work. Wait. How did I even end up here? I thought I remembered for a moment, but it’s gone now. Silence. Both in my head and in the room. The only sound I could here, was the slow dripping of water. Water. Wasn’t I thinking about water a moment ago? THIRSTY! I’m thirsty. Well, that would explain a lot. Nothing like some basic instincts to make you move. The dripping was getting louder. Or was it just my imagination? I stood up again. I was so amazed with my success that I almost fell again. Water. The thought exploded in my head. I followed the sound. It wasn’t that far away, although it seemed to I was walking for hours. The slow dripping pounding against the sides of my skull, erasing every other thought from my head. Water. I found what I was looking for. The source of the dripping was a rusty, old sink. I let the water flow. It was kind of brown. Another chuckle slipped of my lips. I couldn’t believe how strange my voice sounded. I bent over. What harm can come upon me, I’m half way dead anyway, right? Half way dead. Where did that come from? I went back to my spot. The one near the vomit. I sat down, looking at it. It wasn’t the first time something like this happened to me. The thought overwhelmed me. I remembered now. Some people say ignorance is bliss, I couldn’t agree more. I walked over to the other part of the room, opposite the sink. There was an old, worn out cabinet there. Strange how your priorities change with experience. I sat down again, and did what I have done so many times before… The sensation of the needle going into my vein was unforgettable, or at least it would be if I wasn’t going to die. Goodbye world, you were a nice landing spot trough out all these years. Everything became dark. I’m scared, I don’t want to die. 

I found myself at an old, musky, and dirty tavern again. To my credit I haven’t done this in awhile. This ritual of mine where I visit places I really should anymore. The past has just wighed so heavily upon me these past few days. All the mistakes, misspoken words, dliberate or nondelibare harm done to me or by me. It’s all just so fucked up. This world we live in. I always thought as a child that I’ll change the world, that my words will be the motivation to the masses, that my actions will serve as a reminder of what is right and what is wrong, that my thoughts will be written down in history as those of a prophecy. Such arrogance. I didn’t see it like that then, it all seemed so right. Why wouldn’t I be able to all those things? Now though, I know that such a wast number of people before me tried to do te same. Academics, philosophers, doctors, writers, physicists all that smart lot of extraordinary people. And who am I? I’m just a poor old cynic with a glass of whiskey in his hand, and a Lucky in his mouth. I have tried. To change the world I mean. One person at a time. But when you do that for who knows how many times, it tires you down. It’s not a physical sort of tiredness. It’s the feeling of a beaten and weary soul weighing heavily on your chest. The feeling that all that you have done, and strived for in your life, was for naught. Me and my big words. I also thought if I spoke eloquently enough that people would be in awe of my intelligence and way with words. Instead i was met with blunt looks and hateful jealousy. Once again I’ve come here to this old, musky, and dirty tavern to wallow in my despair and drink my sorrow away. Such arrogance, I still cannot believe it. I wasn’t able to sort out my own life, let alone change the world. The girl of my dreams left me, my education is least to say miserable these days, friends have gone, acquaintances are old and rare. Maybe I’m not drinking because I feel weltschmerz, maybe I’m drinking because I’m a selfish bastard that cares only about his own problems. Who gives a fuck anymore? I know that I don’t. I’ve been defeated so many times that no strength remains in my limp limbs. I turn to look at the only person in this fucked up world that still gives a shit about a piece of useless space like me. She looks me straight in the eye, she’s always done so. She’s not one of those girls that like to play coy and almighty with everyone. She’s a straightforward honest gal, that will always be there for you. I smile a wry smile that doesn’t fool anyone, especially not her. She gives me one of those look only she can make, the one when she know exactly what’s going through my head. I let out a cough like laugh, taking a deep gulp of my cheap piss like drink they call whiskey here.

“What are we here for?” she asked breaking the silence. It was a pointless question, she knew well why we were here. She’s been here with me so many times before neither of us can count. 

“I want to get debilitatingly drunk and do shit I’ll regret later.” I answered as I always did. A ritual of sorts this was, where we pretend not to know every detail of one and others life, and where she pretends she’s very interested in my self pity, when she really wants to beat me with a club over the head.

“Can I join you?” she asks as many times before. 

“Only if you’ll pay.” I answered and we laughed. She called the bartender over and ordered ten tequilas, and the night of wondrous stupidity and intoxication began. I smiled while she was looking the other way, truly this time. Because I realized the world wasn’t crap, and I could still change it. Fuck it if I’m arrogant, I should be. I’ve got her with me. 

Mark but this flea, and mark in this,

How little that which thou deny’st me is;

It sucked me first, and now sucks thee,

And in this flea out two bloods mingled be;

Thou knows’t that this cannot be said

A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead;

Yet this enjoys before it woo,

And pampered swells with one blood made of two,

And this, alas, is more than we would do.

Circles of smoke fill the air around me

I blow them out, one by one

I feel a weight pressing heavily upon my chest

It is an unkown weight

The feeling of impending doom befals me

How insedious it is

To be wrenched from such idle thought by this cruel notion

Strugling I fall from my chair

It rocks ever so slowly beside me

Mocking my motionless body

A shriek of despair bursts from my lips

I am still stricken by everything

It came as such a surprise

Bewildered I jump to my feet and start running

Hours, days, years, decades, centuries pass

I am still running

Running from the unkown

From that feeling of doom

Running, always running

From what?

I stop

It finally strikes me

I have nothing to run from

I was running from myself 

Darkened shores fill my sight

Empty banks full of wights 

Ghosts of winters past 

Threaten forever to last

I try to run and not to stay

But the dreadful memories make me sway

I stand my ground in weak defiance 

The shores answer with a haunted silence

The haunted silence of a dead heart

In whose murder they played a part

I fall to the ground, my chest stripped bare

The whights catch me in their evil snare

I fight hard but to no avail

The air around me feels grave stale

A viper rises into my sight

Biting my wounded heart

I thought it dead and not wounded

But my heart refuses to die

I cannot help but feel astounded

I look up at the darkened sky

There awaits a gleeful sight

A ray of sunshine defying the blight

I grip the sight with my half-mad mind

The wights run to the shores behind

Their evil snare falls apart

The blight on the heavens is set alight

A wind rises in the north

Driving the wights ever forth

Into the water they flee

The sunshine and wind chasing them with glee

The waves crush them with godly might

The wights die along with the blight

Sunny shores fill my sight

Empty banks free of blight

Ghosts of winters past did not last

And my anguish has finally passed

It’s days like these that make life worth living. When you feel that you’re something, that you can do things you never before imagined you can do, when you feel that you can do it. It doesn’t matter what. It’s something.

I’ve found, over the years, that thinking in bed is the worst kind of agony a person can bestow upon themselves. 

Born of restless night the moon as a pearl

Playing games down inside your soft warm world

Hear my voice I know that you can

You’re the fire in my eyes

The sun as a man

Seasons come along and seasons go

And what they’ll leave behind

I don’t pretend to know

I’m afraid that all I have missed

Will loom very large when the darkness lifts

What is it about me that makes people, I barely know might I add, talk to me about their problems? Is it my face? If it is, plastic surgery is a must.

One thing, I don’t know why
It doesn’t even matter how hard you try, 
Keep that in mind 
I designed this rhyme, 
To remind myself of a time when
I tried so hard