Inspiring.

Amazing. Better give this guy some hearts.

I write to face my fears.

Like when you don’t know what you’ve got until she leaves and you feel the tears, and you weep and you lose your hair, and your sleep is just all nightmares, and you seep into dark despair, when you breathe you can’t feel the air, and you panic.

The manic depressive in you, an addict for anguish, madness is all you fathom, you crash in repeated fashions, your actions can’t help you manage, the sadness you have is havoc, no passion for life it’s tragic, it happens to be a habit.

You try to go back to where it started, where happiness departed, where you lost your heart and replaced the space with scars, the hardest part is knowing you’ve wasted all your time in loathing, you’d chosen to throw away the emotions that made you human.

“When we lose certain people, or when we are dispossessed from a place, or a community, we may simply feel that we are undergoing something temporary, that mourning will be over and some restoration of prior order will be achieved. But maybe when we undergo what we do, something about who we are is revealed, something that delineates the ties we have to others, that shows us that these ties constitute what we are, ties or bonds that compose us. It is not as if an “I” exists independently over here and then simply loses a “you” over there, especially if the attachment to “you” is part of what composes who “I” am. If I lose you, under these conditions, then I not only mourn the loss, but I become inscrutable to myself. Who “am” I, without you?”

— Judith Butler, Precarious Life

- j (x)

(For a friend who deactivated).

Don't pull off your skin,

It's not late to go and sleep.

Your eyes seem crushed,tired;

I don't want them to break me.

Don't go and dance alone

your ghost is chasing you home.

Pick your body up with middle finger out,

don't close the curtains, don't fall out.

When I listen to you my throat aches,

my fingers bleed, too cold to take;

Where's your home now?

What time is your NOW?

Open the door ,

wishing to see you

but your body is unstable.

Where are you?

Don't lose your soul!

Take another day, lay on!

-t.f.s.

“The ones who notice the storms in your eyes, the silence in your voice and the heaviness in your heart are the ones you need to let in.”

— Steve Maraboli

ABSOLUTION-THE CALL.

suffer.

the moon gazes upon the quiet

fearful and dark city where

the screams are loud and strain,

awfullness continues in the streets

life is an incredible disease.

ocean waves come closer to the city,

it smells like death,it's poison,

none of them has seen what's

born inside in a hole

yet none of them(humans) will live long...

...no one will ever feel how deadly was this challenge,

no one could ever kill the absolute that lives and it will ever live on earth.

suffer.

those eyes don't hide the pure desire to kill and eliminate.

fear.

it smacks you down to give up and die in tears.

disease.

it's like the madness taking all over the world,

making chaos miserable to handle.

surviving doesn't exist when the end comes,

when the doors of Hell open,

when a sound appears...

...and the ocean rebels

to it's RELEASE..

-t.f.s.

Notes to myself.

Killing the happiness

is like killing an animal

or nature that gives

hundred of lives.

My ideas are illusion

and illusion makes me company

after I lose my confidence.

Whatever I am, whoever I was

is the past that I've re-written.

There's a new flesh bleeding

In my cells in divine,

whatever needs to be finished,

my past will lay in pieces.

-t.f.s.

For another sad human without a realization.

My favourite work.

In the cold, a snowy tundra,

An entire horizon of trees half dead,

Solace in a winter solstice

A place where I can find beauty in the death of nature,

Knowing it will grow again, but not now.

Knowing I will grow again, somehow.

Weather consisting of frost and flakes

Someday I will live in the cold,

Wether it be with someone I love,

Or not.

-I have 99 dreams and all of them are you, but in different ways.

Artache gets me high

Keeps me continuing inside

Art's throwin' away my bad vibe,

I do not like it,but i like it sometimes.

-t.f.s.