I gain a nothin’ when it contains words.
sung as if written. but I lie to myself.
Age is 24. Demisexual. Wannabewhore. Suicide and Murder are things I like to do. What I want to be, experience and reach in the Life I already had. But nobody knows, does remember or has something to credit it.
to know I love the deaths creation.
but any of is for bme a taboo subject
so so don’t sing the deaths of. also I did.
this can’t be excused to some,
as strangers. maybe is takes a toll of relief..
but I’d stick to what I know as stranger.
and any must be alive. and that can be noone..
My mother said I was driving my Bike and feel. All my knees bleed. I bought some Pizza and Pork.
I remember an accident, but it is alike a general memory. I bought some Pork but it was like a week ago.
And why are my Hands swollen? I’ll take some more if my Doc is prescribing this. I need this to clear out, I study this stuff damn again!
Edit: I’m still unaware how to treat that phenomenon. I was so secure that I’m immune of Memory Loss/Sleepwalking. I wait that they (Parents) show me the Bill of what I bought. If not, I’ll need to turn the Doctor? I need to state my Swollen Hands!
I took myself one Pill of mine. Short after I lost Consciousness. When I woke up, I was in the living room, both of my Hands swollen, mark of Stitches at both my Elbows. Strains of Blood marking both my knees. And my Medication gone.
This bastard’s are trying to turn me around. I said once to my Dad that I want to die, as he replied to me: “If you want to die, I’ll also.”, I must seen the lie earlier and this douchebag with the imagination people with this private urge can be played.
Respect is equality. None gets that from me out of itself.
Edit: I’ll confront my parents what they remember. I got asked if I’m better yesterday.
or maybe in march. I don’t feel save around here. People mix up my Medicine, Parents are stealing my Medicine and I am very in my Pension at age 23. As if People are living to now or then to hear what I do. It was once even worse but that means nothing.
How to you name the Power in us to make the Final Move, to give into something, to cry and to be forced to seek for food and water? The urge to smoke or to go for drugs.
Such an Movement inside of me is thrilling me to get to my own Rental. Anybody there in the Town is more of an fellow peasant than a friend and those who are a friend to me can’t actual set a rule for itself or have a proper set-up.
I like to be there. I can sleep there at least. I have nothing there yet about connectivity. And an all alone. I took it that I can start working soon. There is too little of an feeling to set a Workspace for the Laptop and start.. Well, all I could is for now cutting Multimedia like Video’s and Sound. Making some elements of Graphic. And I would need to order a new charger first-hand.
It is empty in my Life. That is dragging me constantly to Drugs. I can take Drugs without dying. Latest Innovation from Apple makes it possible to survive any Overdose. I did survived some of them on my own.
I fear to end up in Jail before I die or turn happy ever after. Nothing is dragging me right now to Suicide, the only options are to be in a state that is to some similar to suicide.
I had found here the struggle of someone wearing about its relationship and the inability to share the real thoughts. Will it hold? Can this endure? I blame my Mind if we not set-up together forever. To be passed by for another. To get replaced.
It is so sweet how clueless I was about this feelings. I never knew them. Even when it had been cheated on me my heart and my mind chanted for the most precious thing I lived ever then. I still feel it, I can’t lie about. When we shared a bed for the night, me laying on my device phoning for hours eventually into sleep till the first to wake see’s we maxed the single call limit in time, maybe even up to 3 times. Seven years since.
I’m in Love and everything is set up this time that none gets spoiled in any way. There is no certain way to cheat at each other. The feeling of love been a very perculier thing to me as I knew I lost everything I could feel. It is still a little different but I wonder that it is strong.
But.. sometimes I know what I feel is not hers. It is someone else’s. I feel 3 different people inside my heart. Each is unique and suddenly, none of them are like the kicks I feel when my heart aches. I became used to the pain. I’m grown that I’d could marry. I should write letters about love. My words, one which are not likely to fade are happening. I was not the one known for taking a smell, a taste or emotions. But to give my feelings as clear as I feel never failed if truth is what keeps me keen. I couldn’t when I was for Sex. I an unable to seek for money. I am randomly about but don’t get it straight real to pay for the lust. I do not smear on others melting for attraction.
I can not fulfill what I demand of others. I’ll bow. I can not share my longing to share a sleep with her together in a room. I’ve no Poems, until, I just gave her an roundup of the duty that this affair for her former reality is about. I feel bad when even a little of what I call love is drawn on someone just she is.
I feel what’s true for this true People and truly is as it as but it ain’t as if this admiration I share can not left unreal but is for real not made to hit me in my time for. I’m out of role, I can’t argue that might one of them shall have had happened on a different section of time.
Writing about Love, to have the clear words unsaid or erased, deleted. It hurts. I will not know if it overwhelms me. But when it does, my emotions leave me alone that I could surely be also death. It is as if my Heart is death.
No-one will get spoiled. I’m happy and after. In hear situation I would not like to fail the following 4 years. I’m not ready, not yet.. but I’d wish to as I know it’ll kill me.
Once it was more unfamiliar to me to visit this Page. It was like a Sanctuary. Pretty decent like the last resort. The Place to set-in what would cause you trouble in social life if you had somewhere else. To plee the last time before the own set-up is getting one’s life over and end.
Basically, it is just Facebook now as it started. The end of was horrifying.
it’s okay that everyone turn missing for a little, for a short, for long, for ever.pretending soon or close to have born alone, to be raised alone, to learned alone and to loved alone, cried alone and married alone.
to have fucked alone, till I found myself in a lie, one of which the wreck turned to recover and inserted in this world alone that suddenly I turned insane to not been at all alone.
but all I meet, anyone there is getting me to know is fading out life.
the world is yet not close to understand, healed. corruption is raised and cultivated. any declaration destroyed and ignored because for this been caused to exist.
Using medication will not support me out of this and pretending I’m wrong, I’m unclear, I’m uneducated and stupid is the perpetrator itself for which shall be the aggressor of itself sacrifice to find the poison they used crop out of us, the new child.
I fear I seek to take the feelings back by killing one. No force or anything but I can’t control and I actually want to. Psychiatry can’t change me, jail is welcome to me.
But shouldn’t I actual take everything I can to avoid it and end myself in a suicide and confront me of nothing that is going to be the grant opinion about me?
It are happening circumstances which are questionable at all.
All of my 4 Bikes are broke, one has kicked till the Wheel can’t turn anymore.
My mother probably lost her work because I had worked little there but broke the rules.
My Dad lost an entire Nail and is pretending that it’s an old wound. Tbh I didn’t saw it anytime before in my Life.
My Granddad died when I was in a Country where Me or my relatives never had been before. As urgent it was, I’ve been kept forcefully in the Country.
My Grandmother turned psychic and died. It is as if I brought our family all this suffering.
I am very weak at all.
Even though I am the first who tries to clear any trouble, even for strangers, even when the perpetrator is 2.5x my Weight.
I can’t see any violence. I turn radical, I want to carry a pepper round in an gas gun.
The whole world is not safe. Security is just something for citizen known for atleast simple century. Business is theirs, work is theirs, society is theirs.
I can’t kill myself, I can’t live. I don’t even believe in truth of anything I wrote.
I can’t believe how selfless my family is for me. It hurts. I would hug my dad but I fear I make him feel weak, bring home to tears. I might disposed my hope underage but I am also the one who brings pain, is dimming the Life of them all.
I can’t run, it is not in me. I can’t fight I’ll never win. I don’t play, we never born on rules.
But please. I never wanted anyone in any obligation or in any right to protect me. If I’m dying I take it. I’ll bleed, it’s probably on me. The state does not exist so human rights won’t.
I do not Lie, but this Post might be full of it and I didn’t even tried.
Actually I would take any Hand offering me to disappear securely in another Life. But also, I can’t trust and can end the next minute under scalpel and no medication for which they take me out or trick my brain for Nanobiology.
It started in my Case very early. I romanticised Suicide, did learned about respiratory depression in the cold, the paralyzing effects of alcohol. I can’t remember about more details. It was then 2010/11.
Long Time, it didn’t came up again. but I was not easy to treat. 3 People were aiding me almost Daily for Years.
From Age 18 on, I was able to get forward without consequent correspondence. Drugs.
An Overdose in a Polytoxicomania made me recall: I just died.
When someone broke it and at some point said something in direction of what is been experienced, I cut mindlessly myself.
That I stole a Car and went away, was psychotic but not suicidal. I lost my first Device and a Project. Since then I believe I can’t ever enter Politics.
As after I settled for 3 Months, my Phone got stolen. Psychotic, left the Town.
The Accident with 1540 Volts was not intended Suicidal. As it happens I heard in my Mind “So werde ich nicht sterben.”, and I believed that the Sky is heavenish.
As I recovered I regained more than I was capable of. A Police Attack with the Reason it happened because I wore a Dress let me fall deeper than the Intentional Suicidality.
Since than, I can’t be pleased. I am Insane. I fear no Drugs. I am always inflicted in intrigue causing Danger, as if I am Danger, I am making Danger. A Affliction turned to Love and Infatuation.
That also happened far Away, from Central Europe to Nordic Europe. I confessed the First Time I would do Terror. I never did but then at the Airport I said it. I can’t say where they brought Me, but appropriate. At that Time Trump got elected.
Again, Months Later. I got used to be now below poverty. When I missed a Plane at the End of the Year I started Drugs 2017. I have now 41 completely experienced.
Recently, I don’t know, I have this Idea for a Start-Up. I have a rental. I am allowed and asked to Assist a Suicide.
not a single language covers what we truly are. biologically healthy a wreck of psychological pain by amount of worthless sustainable knowledge. then phenomenal therapy will give it a cut. no suicidality anymore. it is so expensive sometimes. that’s not the market, it is real the resources. a human can’t be manufactured to resources. health services are dumped.
i want to meet a different human.
or myself, some of the resources felt if people are dissected , just for fun before a trade. & you?
no, I don’t give resources. I’m in pain that desires, visions, sanity, preferences and anything extraordinary is vaguely unpayable, and this for ever. it’s just been loosely to proof it’s existence.
i did knew, forensic pathology is a high aim, but, if they are like me? maybe i’m just this cruel compared to.
From early Age on I used different Names. Even when I tried to note them down I failed to capture it all. Ifeel guilty for having used over 20 E-Mail addresses. A letter to Google didn’t change a thing. I probably used 7 Facebook accounts, barely remembering what it was to begin. With them, some deleted at the beginning I use now 2 at once and own a 3rd. The oldest still Online will also not be recovered. My Oldest Tumblr, and I don’t knowhow anymore I lost it, but I would had liked to know what I poet I oncehad been. Now I use at a Moment like 14 different Tumblr URL’s. Just as, the Year before the latest Presidents Inauguration when I left Home I lost Data of any kind on 21 Devices. Even my Birth certificateand 3 Passport’s are circulating in the World – Interpol ison it. At leastjust 2 ID Cards, 2 Tramway ID‘s are not that heavy. I think I use now the 9th Phone Number. I lost anyway from a Peak of 1000 Contacts down to just 2 – Dad and another justIgnoring Me recently. That Person asked me, if there’s anything I didn’t lost and I said, a Contract maybe and it was wrong.
Hard to believe that I didn’t Lost myLife. I lost my Mind once in a Psychosis. Some of my dearest Memories I lost. Closest Friends Ilost. Meanings of Words changedand Lost. The common Imagination of Life is Lost. The State of a Life without forced Pain I think a Hippie has to own, Lost. The Independent behaviour I think a Punk has to have is Lost – and I made a Punk to have lost it either. Gender and Sex, Roles are Lost. I lost the truthbeneath the Symbols I use to write.Imagination, to have anything after Death that might be true, as if, being able to befall the own Life at some Point for Me, for Others, Lost. I lostto be trusted. I even lost Fingertips!
I can‘t Life like I really give into, Iturn very vegetative. I had all first kisses, first hugs, first sex, first timeof many illegal things. I didn’t hadeverything the first time. First timein arrest, first time being self-confident on my own. I felt often in a Insanity like something I ain’t, Hallucinations of things I fear and aren’t there.
My Dreams are very versatile. It paralyzed my Body, breaks everything I‘m made of like Glass even inside my Mouth. Made me fall inside myHead like, and it was very anxious to have, just have to hold that uncomfortable Dream long enough turning more stiff the longer I can hold it around my body and waking up because I was unable along it to breath and repeat that over. Or Dreams in which I did something Iwould never like to do in a Dream as if imagined by someone else. Ibelieve I have Lucidity inside me but never had a Reason to try it out as things are between fast and blazing fast. Dreams which changedtheir Structure like getting to a New World, Dreams that made me even Hope again that it was. Dreams that felt like Dying and Decaying, like a very long Time. Or being haunted by visibilty of a Person, opening the Eyes in the Sleep.
Help? With what. I can’t even figure out towards a Child what I want.
And I knew from my first Infatuation to quote “Hope dies Last.“ I lost even that desire to bewith that Person after a Period of 7Years. I needed to get to myself to be able to move on. Giving up on sincere feelings but unable to recognise myself.
So, who am I?