nihilism
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Running away from the fear of the shadow Running away from the face of death. Losing myself to the fate of the helpless Losing myself to this fate that I've met. Keeping my way on the path that I've set. Pausing only to make sure I didn't forget
Gliding in the merry skies,
Foraging hundred night kinds,
Trapping fast rifts of hills,
Make haste as the fairies fade,
Eerie mundane grimoire or fragment,
Standing straight on a plateau,
Overlooking an arch by the meadow,
Gazing into streams of pinwheels,
Overshadowed like the ghosts of vinyls;
Vide la catastrofe e la chiamò bellaVide distruzione e la chiamò coscienza.
Hai visto una stella collassare
Ordinati a numeri primi
gli universi incrociati a perfezione,una sterile bellezza
Riding in trees,
Falling off treatise,
Gendering yearning souls,
Trying the caste of cells,
Postering high miracles,
I sat like a pigeon with a brain,
Curiously wondering about visuals that retain,
I spoke no words nor committed deeds;
It was all meaningless,
When we finally sleep,
The carnival will come.
Wind will strip dye from our gowns,
The corn will grow wild,
And the carnival will come.
The silence is suffocating,
Swadling all within my sight.
The light outside is deprecating,
But I'm not ready for this night.
I recall the dream of midday,
When the sun embraced grass and stone,
The poet's dead, the song is gone.
With dying breath and failing brawn,
He whispers a foreboding phrase:
"The nights are spent, you waste your days."
Lisa Frank is dead,
She's buried in the ground,
And with her lies our childhood,
Still, without a sound.
With every generation,
A passing interest dies,
Wait a couple decades,
We are all standing single file waiting for our turn to plunge into the deep, dark abyss.
At night I wonder, how often do two lives end in perfect unison on opposite sides of the world?
Hickory, dickory, dock. Three mice ran up the clock. The clock struck one, and down two run, mourning the terrible loss.
I rejoice in sharing the earth
With someone so lovely as you.
I think of your face and I'm filled with mirth;
My joy and happiness can't be subdued.
But despite this thrum of ecstasy, I carry great trepidation,
Once upon a timeI was turned into a spoon.All because my masterWas acting a buffoon.
It started when a witchknocked on the castle door.She said she wanted sheltersome food and nothing more.
I couldn't think of anything I hated more than Nihilism.
And Nihilists.
And anything that has anything to do with Nihilism.
I hated it.
It's starting to make sense, though.
People don’t matter.To assumeIs insaneIt trulyWould have no impactIf I were gone, ICan’t believeIMean more than what we are taught to believe.We know that weDie.
there are hundreds of cities and every single oneis filled with thousands upon thousands of people sitting in cow face grinning but also trying real hard not to move because theywill be shot in the heada girl in gaborone cries for a dead pet (she
Here I watch the crowds scatter
Vast amounts of doubts gather
I've steered my train of thought, trained the brain to block out chatter
Town after town, I traded what I had known
Looking down, curling broken feet,
through the pungent odour of burnt cotton,
My clothes are burned,
flesh cavernous and scarred,
I'm like a pebble
I've never been anything more than something as common as that
However,
it's that very average,
common pebble
that the not-so-average
shoe kicks around.
I left this one blank. There is no freedom. It doesn't stop.
NOTHING IS EVER BLACK AND WHITE
The clergy plays their swan song
You cry out it's all wrong
No one notices over their song
Leather skin the casket holds
The corpse didn't even get to see twelve years old
I hate myself,I hate my wealth,If I could give,Then I would live,Nothing would be mine,As nothing is divine,
I've tried to make sense of it all,
but reasoning fails, which leaves me falling
down again, to where I began
to misunderstand this life.
If the only absolute
is the knowledge that there's no truth,
Dead man walking
Sentened by the boss
Look who's talking
Sorry for the loss
Dead man walking
We'll get there somehow
But where are we now?
Let's get rolling
I suddenly realized
(at five years old)
Death applies to me too
That children become grown-ups
who become grandmas
who were the ones who died
And I was a children.
Faces passing by
bland grey in the corner of my eye
To think I see them every day
again and again along my way
they don't know my name I don't know theirs
if one goes missing no one cares
I don’t want to do life today
So I think I’ll just lie here
I’ll be a Neo-Nietzsche
Since life won’t do me either
What good is a body
That only sees despair
It’s not white or phallic
Okay – so there’s this girl at the
Back of the class – and she’s always
Got her nose in the pages of a book –
I mean he’s never even seen her face,
That’s how much she’s literally ingrained
