The Limit Of My Consciousness Will Not Be Televised

If all this is actually one of my dreams
A very very very elaborate dream
I would agree that its purpose was on the creation and maintenance of the concept of you
Because

You are all I seem to live for
All I care about
All I think about
All I want to think about
All I want to achieve
All I want to have

In creating you my mind reached perfection
In creating you my mind exists
Without you my mind is useless and it’s purposeless and it’s not
Without you my mind is not

And the limit of my dream is my reality
And the limit of my reality is my dream
And the limit to their fusion can only be you

Even if you don’t understand
It’s you
Everything is you

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Blood Red Lips

All I want is to reach out my hand and touch your lips
Not even kiss them, just feel them
Know they’re there

I’m disintegrating and falling in pieces to my bedroom floor
Which should be your bedroom floor
And my mind keeps thinking about you
And my mind keeps thinking about you
And my mind keeps thinking about you
And my mind is on the floor

If I only cared about you the way I want to care about you
If I was only as in love with you as I want to be in love with you

Give me eyes to see you
Give me arms to hold you
Give me hands to touch you
You can keep the rest

If you die and I’m alive
Give me a kiss and stain my lips red
With your blood
With your blood
With your blood

People think that the end of the world is near. This is called projection. No one thinks we’re doing a good job. Humankind is wretched and deserves to be destroyed. People think natural disasters are god’s way of killing us, but if I had infinite creating power, I wouldn’t just make some earthquakes. And if god really wanted to destroy us he could just create and infinitely better way than just sending a tsunami our way.

My Apache Rebirth

My morning and my afternoon taste the same. When I wake, I go to sleep and my mind stops thinking one hour after I close my eyes. I understand that night and day only differ in the amount of light present and a it’s all the same to a blind person. My pain is internal and invisible and I cannot visualize it even if I close my eyes. When I walk, I put one foot in front of the other unless I’m going backwards. I don’t really love anybody. I don’t really like anybody. I don’t really like anything. I understand that earthly possessions are feeble and easily obtainable and lost. I don’t believe in change.

I am the ghost of the smile that my face used to draw. I am advertising’s prophet. I am a retarded lab rat trying to find the cheese in my uni dimensional labyrinth. I am the son of the television and the cinema. I am the response you thought about ten seconds after you were supposed to respond. I am the bully. I am the slave. I am the underpaid teacher who got kicked out of the school before summer vacation. I am the accountant who died of a heart attack during rush hour. I am your impossible dreams and aspirations. I am your future and I am angry. I am the plane you leave in, the bar you drink in, and the bed you fuck in. I am hate everlasting. I am the sarcastic perception of love. I am the knife that falls from the kitchen counter and cuts off your little finger. I am the teddy bear you had as a child. I am not your friend.

If I had a penny for every time I have told someone I love them I would have ninety three dollars and seventy six cents, and my account would show no movement since March. If I wanted to get my point across I would just make you a fucking diagram and spread glitter all over it. If I needed help I would make a sign. If I desired to get away from all of you I could just walk four hundred miles and sleep in a park and forget I ever knew every single one of you. If I seem desperate then you need to adjust your reception. If I had a dollar bill for every time I’ve thought about something romantic involving the two of us I would be a self-made millionaire and you’d still be as unreachable as you’ve always been.

I don’t believe in romance and I don’t believe there exists such a thing as soul mates and i don’t think anyone’s meant to be with anybody much less you and me.  believe as much as I try to get away from depression it sort of has a way of getting inside my head. As much as girls in big frame glasses drive me crazy I don’t think I’ll ever find somebody who’s as interesting and honest as I want them to be. I don’t believe I’ll be around for most of the exciting stuff in life. I understand that sexual relations are nothing but sexual contact and that kisses mean nothing nowadays. I understand my complete lack of empathy for my entire species. I am strange and cold and I rarely express my true feelings. I understand you’re pretty but being pretty doesn’t make you anything else than pretty.

The day I hate everyone and everything is the day i’m truly enlightened and must fear no more. If you read me, you know who I am and you know what I want and you know I dislike getting what I want. The fact that you’re not wearing any underwear is just as negligible to me as the weight of your soul is to the world. I am neither aroused nor expectant and I’m really craving a long silence.