Incoherent Thoughts Migrated

All incoherent thought related posts from now on will be to the following link from now on. Cause tumblr seemed interesting enough for something single themed like this.

http://mostlyincoherentthoughts.tumblr.com/

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"When did I became yours?"

"You always were. You just came to notice this now."

And then it's almost like a waterfall going backwards sometimes.

Everything flickers.

And then it's like being at six places at the same time.

And everything is so beautiful.

And everything is so sad.

And everything is so, quiet.

Wave

It recedes, and every particle rests back onto you.

Your skin almost breaths the moisture.

The warmth of the sun is often teetering on the borders of being comfortable and exceedingly hot.

You sink just a little more into everything.

Sounds and noises and wind and people and its just so quiet in your head.

Flame

And the fire burns everything. Everything.

Like acid flowing through your veins, its beautiful, and it burns.

Black ink seeps past my skin yet like sponges soaked too long, it never stops.

Glass shards on your little toes, a sandpaper massage. Perhaps a cheesegrator haircut later?

And everything radiates so glaringly, so soft yet so forceful.

Tell me, have you met the other me?

Copper

You only get one chance, one opportunity to get it right.

Inhale.

Flex you fingers. Twitch if you must. Rest your shoulders. The other end. All that matter is the person on the other end.

Everything is calm. Every breath carefully controlled. Every heartbeat vivid, consistent, stable.

Exhale.

Surgical precision. Everything is calculated. Everything considered.

No doubts. No worries. No uncertainty.

Pull.

Miss.

Shit.

Sense

Gaze upon its wonder. Listen to the beauty of the sound. Feel its exquisite design. Taste the elegance of its magnificence. Breath the electric it bestows upon you.

Here's a radical thought, next time you have a bad idea, don't do it.

Length

It's like, holding a bowl shaped vase of sorts which is filled with water but also cracks all over. The water still leaks as you hold it, only slightly less so.

It's like, trying to digitally stop a leak in a boat. It helps, but it's unlikely to help much in the long run.

It's like, how putting a pillow over your head only blocks out so much sound.

Do you think, if we walked until our legs bled, and kept walking, we would come closer to understanding everything?

Do you think, we could miss things we never had, things we don't remember, things we can't so much as conceive of?

Do you think, the world would stop spinning if everyone just managed to get along?

Everything is so damn distant.

Hey, self, maybe if you stop hoping long enough, you'd forget that too.

Hey, self, stop pestering me.

A field of memories. A void sky. Tell me, why do they wilt into such an unsightly thing?

Everything becomes irrelevant. Regress regress regress. Turn back time and everything becomes irrelevant.

One step in front of the other.

Hey, self, do you think if I keep walking I'd forget everything?

Hey? Self?

Cipher

Time and time again I warned you, you have to be careful with these things. Otherwise you might as well be scooping water with a sieve.

You have to plan it well you see. Everything begins with a plan. Executing it is a league on its own. That, you don't need me.

You gotta do more than just see it for what it is. You have to get your hands dirty and feel every fiber of it.

You must be willing to forgo your sanity, because it is not only going to be challenged, it is going to be ripped away from you.

Steel your mind as much as you like, but when you start looking into things, you may just voluntarily shut it down.

But even if you survive, you have the others to deal with. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Futile

Standing on principle, one could live. Standing on principle, one could die. To be indecisive, one is almost certain to receive the worst of both worlds.

Come come come, let us venture back into the heavy muck that holds familiarity. Do you remember, how this was once a great empire? It can be again.

Fearlessness breeds one to challenge their restraints. All things considered, the pointlessness of it leads only to wasted effort.

One step forwards, two steps back. It's all a learning experience is it not? Try try and try again. Failure is data, data we don't need.

If the world smiled, would you also smile? Or simply remain unaffected? Self, you are far too naive, far too naive.

Walk across the desert of your own mind self, notice that that which has changed is only your sight. We are still here.

Walking like a madman is undoubtedly fun, but one can only go so long before rest is needed. Take a break, take a break.

Play your games, go where you want to go. But home is where the heart is, and we await your return most patiently.

Stone

Suddenly, laughter, uncontrolled, unsuppressed, absolutely hearty laughter.

Suddenly, silence.

Standing behind myself, picking apart the things in my own head wondering how they got there.

Silly man, always trying always trying. Your small success clouds loss in progress silly man.

Silly man, always breaching your own codes, your own rules. You never learn never learn.

Silly man, always wonder and dream, always standing on your feet, never looking up.

Silly man, always thinking pointless things. Won't you ever learn?

Surely, surely you have seen enough to know?

Surely, surely you can see the truth of your own world?

Surely, surely you know what you can and should do? Must do?

Silence, silence the thoughts, the buzz, the crowd, the noise.

Silence, silence the dreams, the nightmares, the ghouls, the ghosts.

Silence, silence the colour, the smells, the sights, the wonders.

Silence, silence the touch, the taste, the feel, the hope.

Sleep child sleep.

Tune

Don't speak it of it, don't so much as breath it, think it. Expel all thoughts of it from your mind.

The thing about recalling something is that it concretes itself further every time you do.

Where do we stand? Earth ever moving ever changing. Let us all run ahead, exhausting ourselves before we die.

Broken things lay everywhere, splintered thoughts and erratic movements.

Look but don't see. Hear but don't listen. Talk but don't speak.

Fuzzy walls and hazy air, radiating light from everywhere. Sit still in the forest of light. Sit still lest you attract the beasts.

Some games are harder to win than others. Some games, the only way to win, is to do nothing.

It is quite alright I'm sure. There is nothing to worry about. Things can't get worse, not really. Not when you've never played.

Come, let us sit. Back to back, the stars are our audience. Like so many we twiddle our thumbs and wait for the game to end.

But it doesn't. We know it doesn't. Everyone knows it doesn't.

Stay still from playing long enough and you turn to stone. Yet another item for the garden of the world. That is all I ever expect to be.

Yet the unpredictability of the world has shown many a time that not everyone end up this way, despite their expectations.

I barely remember how to stand anymore. How to walk. How to so much as move. And it isn't often people would help you up.

The skies are a beautiful thing. It's always the same sky, but always so beautiful.

But I'm so tired of looking up.

It is time for me to sleep.

Noise

A snowy fuzz of black and white, repetition. Hypnotic almost.

Voices not escaping lips but sound is not unheard of when it is present.

But it's just so so quiet. So still. So silent.

Because even in a room full of mediocrity, eventually somebody gets good enough to win.

Mute

Silent the protests, the crowd of one. Its noise penetrating every chamber, every room. Can you not see its disturbance?

Army of one, tell me why do you resist? Why do you persist? Why can't you stay quiet for a while?

The death penalty is a silly sort of thing. For one as immortal as yourself at least. But do bear in mind, we would live just as long.

I am the judge and my words are absolute.

A voiceless noiseless speechless soundless prison. Gagged, choked full of your former glory. Drown in the misery you bring.

Time stretched across your body, your torment prolonged, yourself exasperated.

You know as well as I it is for the greater good. Stay where you are. Stay, silent.

Intent

Staining, it spreads, every fiber in clear view. Almost majestic, almost perfect.

Clocks ticking ticking ticking. Digital things are ever so boring sometimes lacking this ability.

White noise clouds of inseparable thoughts entwined spinning webs made of dreams.

Lights throb in an unforgiving fashion, headache inducing light, so bright, so pretty, so hurtful.

Claws don't hurt, they never do. They are sharp, they are strong, they are beautiful. Smile for me.

Cast a shadow across the fields. Echoes are unheard of here. There is nothing, nothing.

Fire fades muffled air a smoke screen kissing faces crying shedding tears.

Emptiness is silence and silence is brilliant. And silence, silence is boring.

Throwing away that which is unimportant. Laugh it all away. Until you laugh away laughter.

Because in the end, it's really not morbid, not even at the slightest. Just, plain.

Trails from the contents spilling over, the figure isn't far off, the box isn't damaged.

Thunder

Low rumblings vibrate the glass held neatly in their frame. Bodies of water ripple, breaking them from the routine of a calm surface.

Pulse skips to the sound, the feeling, the power. Everything gets dark. The joys of artificial light.

The darkness it brings is almost mellow, without so much as a spark. It grows, it grows.

So take shelter lest you are one who enjoys such things, such risks. This isn't for those with weak bodies.

It would envelope you with awe and fear. It's every movement slow but firm, moving ever closer to its intended purpose.

It rains, it rains.

Overcast

Dusty book jackets. Plastic wrappers laid out in disarray. My fingers sinks itself into the matt surfaces. Sandy.

Sometimes, I feel like I am being electrocuted. Calm one moment, absolutely pumped up the next.

The violent hurricane is over. Clouds still hang above, so on the edge of rain. There is no lightning as far as I can tell.

He sits on his tower, overseeing everything and everyone. But everyone is bounded and chained. And everything, everything is irrelevant.

The trivial pursuit of that which isn't even tangible is almost sickening to imagine.

There is no happiness at the absence of despair, only a calm. Ripples and waves, almost too methodical to be natural.

She plays hide and seek among the rubble. What is to say she was not the one who caused the collapse? She is never seen again.

Aches and bruises are the trophies. Embrace them. Love them.

Tear their throats apart. The only way to win is with haste. Mercy is for the weak. Friends only serve to function as your first victims.

If you can't feel the pain of running, would you ever stop? A race without end. Purpose is lost once the games began.

Chain

A light so bright, I'm almost blinded every time I look upon it. It doesn't take that much effort to look upwards, though I rarely do.

It's beautiful. In all its grace and wonderment, its light so glorifying I almost feel myself being rid of impurities. A light so gentle and warm I feel hugged and loved by it. Steady it glows above, pouring its care over me.

Its warm embrace, carefully caressing, almost in fear I would break if so much as being breathed upon. Every molecule of my body calms. My racing brain takes pause to appreciate the moment. And for a while, nothing else matters.

How sweet it is, its fingers dancing across my skin, almost as if trying to absorb every particle of my body into itself. Meticulously brushing every fibre of my body, holding it, kissing it.

A meadow far beyond my eyes can see. A light breeze. Everything so composed, so serene. The warm sun lighting everything in a way that is spectacular beyond words. A simple beauty. Grass between my fingers, warm and comfortably coarse. The clouds roll lazily across the sky, blocking out the sun but for a moment.

Lying down to take in the tranquil of it all, my thoughts melt like butter in a preheated oven. Eyes closed, I take in as much of it as I can.

It feels like a balloon within me is being filled far past its breaking point. Overwhelmingly peaceful. Enveloping myself in the moment, I try to breath in the very essence of it all.

I don't want this to end.

The clanking of metal from my shackles echo as I slump back down.

Who the hell am I kidding.

Spaced, Part 1

A box of matches laid conspicuously on a square table. Looking down, the label says 'Wizard'. Wizard matches, heh.

I can't seem to process the idea of walls, or even a ceiling. But there is light from up there somewhere. Hmm..

There wasn't a chair the last I checked. Though, I suppose I didn't check at all did I?

Sitting down, both palms laid flat upon the table. The wood feels good. Comforting almost.

Blood. I come to realize there seems to be a wound in my mouth. The taste of blood is sweet as always.

My throat is dry despite this. I remember nothing. But I can clearly read. Where the hell am I? Damn.

The feeling of the chair and table stays ever so consciously in my head. I have since then realized I have absolutely no clothing on. Interesting.

More interestingly, my body seems not to be sweating at all. I can't seem to perceive of the temperature as well, though clearly it seems to be cool enough.

'Wizard'. The familiarity of it all irks me. There is exactly one match inside. I didn't need to check. I knew this.

I remove the one match from its box and light it with a single strike. Almost immediately, I instinctively dropped it.

The flames lick the table, burning it slightly. The touch of what's left is warm, rugged and somehow, bitter.

My head is in pain. Metaphorical knots tied inside, too tight to be undone, that's how the pain is like.

Where am I? What are these things? This "room" I'm in doesn't seem to have any limits upwards or side.

The light, wherever it's from, is fading.