a private message made public

i am in pretty bad shape too man….i can feel you and see how many you and me there really are, imagine the total grief and helplessness and hopelessness in this world man, it is enough to be a world in itself, maybe that is what hell is. maybe hell is the collective weight of all peoples’ failed aspirations, expectations and dreams, maybe hell is the all weighty almighty DREAM that was never chased. it just lies there, emptying slowly, its mass and thickness invading all that comes in its way, it comes inside you and me thijs, through the nose, close your eyes all you want but it’ll seep in through your ears. discontent man, what worse curse can be laid onto someone, still and stagnant melancholy, and a person who has come to terms with it, an unmoving collection of atoms who always looks down at the floor, it is he that is satan thijs, not your maniac who laughs and plans the downfall of all others, satan is the man who is so down below everyone that he is not even aware of their existence. the music it surrounds you from every dimension, its tone is not the only source of ache, its presence itself is a reminder of satan, the boy who lost his will. im afraid of satans thijs, for real, i am scared of seeing them, you see one and you want to help them, you can never help them thijjs, they just end up ‘helping’ you, you bring a part of satan with you and one day you see him in the toilet, inside the toilet water, just standing there, not knowing why he came there in the first place, just looking in at the same pairs of eyes looking out, becoming clearer as the water stills… and hazier. You learn to lose focus thijs, you become a star gazer, and when people are around, you look for the stars in the floor, your eyes forget how it was to see things, you can hold a view only for a moment and after spontanously find yourself looking behind what you once ‘saw’. and all at once you understand how solitude is no longer something to seek, it does that for you now. you long pass the phase of being able to use this in something creative, it was a well of such potential that you find yourself drowning in it, the thick mucus is going in your nose thijs, close your eyes all you want but it seeps in through your ears, discontent. and now you explore company, since misery really does love it, where do you find thijs? in artists whom you wanted to be. keep an eye on yourself, its a slippery slope all the way to satan man, the fucking kid who fucking lost his will..