Pale Lips and Empty Eyes

Darkness falls.

Sanity is slowly slipping from my hands now.

 

I set through the night

A knife between my lips

His room three storeys above

My hands trembling with fear

 

As I take each step to his door

Silently, I walk into his room

I sat, watching him sleeping

Knife shines beneath the moonlight

Slowly I approach

Grab his neck

He wakes

Screams. Struggles

As I gently slit his throat

Cries. Agony

His poor wretched heart

is now filled with holes of black

 

My hands savoring the blood

dripping to my hands

As I drop him on his bloodstained bed

His eyes beg for mercy

Tears of anguish

Looking at me

how I lick my knife with satisfaction

and left his lifeless body

slumped on the sheets

 

I could bathe in blood if I wanted to

If I needed to

If I carve his face out

Wear it as mine

Would you love me too?

Would you feel the same way

knowing it’s me behind that face

everytime I’m around?

Or would you rather die

along with him by your side

with your death by my hands?

 

I know I can.

I am mad enough to kill

as you did to me

For every word I see

coming from you.

You are not responsible of what has become of me.

I blame you for nothinng.

I would even kiss you even if you’re dead.

 

Are you ready to die?

The Borders of Perfection

I am taking a dark road among most of the people. A road that may take me to somewhere safe, perilous, nowhere or to a bottomless pit where I will fall endlessly until time is exhausted and gravity has aged and forgotten its nature.

–Me

These past few years, it’s been hell inside my mind. It’s like every hour my ego is playing bowling and the pins stand as my thoughts–and he never missed a strike ever since. I never had a steady, and focused mindset since that day. Since I was obsessed with conspiracy theories.

Conspiracy theories are not legitimately true, I know it. That’s why it’s regarded as a theory. I just like the fact that it opens a door to certain possibilities. It shows you something more beyond what you thought you knew. A new form of knowledge that can be destructive. An idea that grows as a virus inside a person’s head and the next thing he knew, he is creating a conspiracy in his own life.

Yeah, it can cause paranoia. I have been there. The only key is not to dwell too much on it. It is one of those concepts that makes you want for more. A seduction to your naive thoughts. Mainly because you are seeing things in a definitely larger scale. You are going beyond what is normal–what you think you knew and yet, you still have little knowledge of it. You see your own world in a different perspective. You are entering in a world that is full of infinite possibilities of uncertainties.

Dealing with absolutes has been a struggle for me. Everyday almost everything is almost hard for me to believe and regard it as Real. I began to doubt everything even my own existence. I wondered if what if I never exist? What if I am just a projection of someone who thinks and administers my every action until now? A mental being processed inside someone’s head. If I tell this to some commoner, I can imagine him telling me, “Shut up. Here you are talking to me and you’re telling me you’re not real? Nonsense.” That’s the most likely scenario I can think of, but haven’t you noticed? I just “created” someone in my imagination for that certain purpose. To contradict myself. To doubt myself by the use of my own capabilities. What if I am the same as the imaginary persona I just made?

And is there even such a thing we can consider as absolute? I stopped to deal with absolutes. I accepted that perfection only exists in the mind. Where we can consider something to be absolutely something we think it ought to be. Because, let’s face it, we live in an imperfect world as imperfect beings. Everything has its own flaws, accept it or not. A flower can be beautiful but once it’s time runs out, it dies and the beauty fades therefore not making it absolutely beautiful. One may consider it to be in a certain state. That’s how Time fucks everything up.

Everything fades. Nothing is permanent but change.