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/

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?

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.

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.

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.

Shoot

Ready. Aim.

Do you think, you could ever stand so much into someone's shoes that you can justify it is a life no longer worth living?

Do you think, all life is precious, or that life is just a pointless process?

There is such a thing as right and wrong, even if you do not know which is which.

Think, is it right?

Fire.

Snap

Because sometimes, it's easy. Sometimes, there isn't even room to allow you to over-think. Sometimes, it's just straight to the point like that.

Because when you think about it, it all boils down to your own individual wants and needs.

Because when everything is in place, and there is room for you to make pretty much any decision, you only need to think of yourself.

So let yourself be selfish for once in your life.

Abandon

Oh calm down young chap, you really ought to worry about yourself more than others.

You really need to stop pitying others you know. Can't keep stressing yourself out like that, you'll get a heart attack.

For someone carrying such a long face, one would think you almost don't want to talk about it. You surprise me you know.

Don't give me that look. You know well enough you chose to speak with me because I don't really give a damn.

You clearly know I am a stranger that would not bother to bring up this conversation to another soul.

I would say you should deal with your greed in the first place, but greed is a good motivation at times. Moderation is key.

No no, I'm not saying it's impossible, anything is possible. Sure there are exceptions but if you try hard enough, you can always achieve what you set out to do.

Understand what it is you truly want and set out to get it. With a proper plan, you can at least get close I'm sure. That's how to get what you crave.

Me? No, that's not what I do. I just learn to stop craving.

Feel

Is it strange that I have no idea how to respond to things? To words? To actions? To scenery? To first hand experience?

Instinctively sure, I can always give some form of emotional response I suppose. But everything gets so rigid, so inflexible.

I wouldn't say I have lost the capacity to experience emotion. Everything is still in place. Still capable of working if effort is applied.

Perhaps the best metaphor is that everything is more like a maze now? Nothing flows the same way as before anymore.

To process will always take a longer time as compared to instinct. Perhaps I can simply not processing as much. But I can't really help it.

When I go out into the public, I don't wear a paper bag over my head. At this rate, I might as well do so.

Sewn

You, who walks with me through the thick and thin of my life. Never tired, never complaining.

You, who would fly if I asked you to, who would get hit by a car if I so much as request it, who would gladly live or die at my whim.

You, who stay by my side through my conquers and defeat, never laughing at my loss, never cheering at my success.

You, who never kicks me when I'm down, but would never help me up.

You, who would slip into slumber if care not to move you, but always, always comply to my movements.

You, who could hide so perfectly, so completely, if I allow you to, despite feeling neither shy nor fearful.

You, who allows me to act in complete reserve or danger without uttering a single word.

You, who watches my every merit and mistake, but never judge me, and instead joins me on my every decision.

But they say nothing is permanent in the world.

Oh shadow, will you one day leave me too?

Throat

How much does it take to strangle someone to death?

I never could shake away the uneasiness that comes to me easily. It takes time, patience, persistence. Over time, it flows away, but never easily.

Heart rate at 126 beats per minute. Damn it, die already. Adrenalin always helps, but at this rate I'll like get a heart attack before all breath is lost.

I always thought that things would be easy if I could break it down into its various components. One step at a time, surely one can reach their goals in time.

Everything hurts. Every. Damn. Thing. Hurts. Ropes are such pretty things when they are around necks aren't they?

I once considered the idea of just running wild. To just let it all go and be whatever it is that comes to mind. Is it not great to release oneself from every and all restraints?

The only familiarity of it all was from practice. My sweat seems to still be a hindering factor. Not like I'll ever do this again but still, good to know I suppose?

I think at the end of the day it doesn't really have to make any sense. Treat the symptom, not the cause.

I can almost feel the life being squeezed out. Everything is turning black. Funny how everything still hurts.

How much does it take to strangle yourself to death?

Touch

The first contact is the first tingle. It isn't discomfort. It isn't fear exactly either. I wouldn't call it anxiety. Just plain dislike.

I find myself time and again giving just enough an aura to keep people a physical distance away from me. People who are unfamiliar at least.

I'm really not sure when or even how I have come to notice it, but when I did, it doesn't help much with the situation at all.

It is my personal space. It's as simple as that. I don't like the idea of mine being violated, so I don't violate others'.

But it really does take great courage for me to relax, to just let someone in. To disable all alarms and just let them enter this space.

It isn't easy for me. It still isn't.

Familiarity is never the same as being comfortable with someone now is it? To not only let someone in, but to visit theirs? It's terrifying.

But when you do, everything just melts. Cause that's what it's like. That's what it's like to have a guest in your space. Everything changes. Everything.

And once you visit the space of another, you really just don't wanna leave. The grass is greener on the other side and all, but sometimes it's just the comfort of it.

Sometimes, it's just nice to lean, to be held.

Doodle

For once again in my life, I let my thoughts flow onto ink, onto graphite, staining onto used paper. Just pour pour and pour.

To see it in my head does not mean it is easy to represent, but I try. I have to try. I have to do something instead of just wallow.

And from it, tales of bottles and rooms and cars and building. Of faces and clocks, headphones and blimps. How I let it flow.

Geometry has always been a favourite for me. Everything else is so volatile, so subject to change and interpretation.

But a cube! A cube is a cube is a cube! It's easy to imagine, to rotate in your head, to represent it onto paper.

I mimic by nature to learn quickly. It isn't always the best way, but it works. But to mimic not a person but the works instead, is not something that comes easy to me.

I can't deny I'm enjoying myself. I am. Even if it turns out abysmal, it is better than nothing. I am learning. Learning is fun.

To paint the world would be a feat. The absolute detail mixed with ones own style doesn't sound like an easy task, for me at least.

But I, I want only to paint my imaginations.

State

Sometimes it is about indifference. I think not about other things. Everything seen with a 'so what?' attitude, actively pushing away all forms of care towards that event, object or whatnot. Apathy.

Sometimes it is about neutrality. I would neither defend nor oppose both side. Watch from the sidelines, moderate things if need be, but remain uninvolved as a whole. I have no problem with pointing out the need of a discussion, but I wouldn't join in.

Sometimes it is about doublethink. I would argue both to and for both sides of the discussion. Everything has its pros and cons, and for me at least, it is always better to know than to now know both sides of it all.

Sometimes it is about objectivity. To consider all points without bias and preconceptions, making a decision that is solid. I would have problems at times of course, no one is absolutely non-biased after all.

And yet at the end of the day, it is within human nature to be subjective. Damn.

Happiness

Much too often I try to see things from more than one point of view. To walk in another's shoe for a mile inside my head. To think how another would think if they were a little more uptight, relaxed, irritable, mellow and so on.

I would think it has become a part of me to consider the views of others most of the time. To make decisions that gives the least amount of displeasure to others.

But it doesn't mean I have to appease everyone of course. I am still living for myself and in that regard, I will always think of my survivability. From this stemmed my apathetic nature I believe.

Cognitive dissonance. That's what you get when you care too much about everything and not care too much about everything at the same time. While I wont deny I like both of it for its merits, the option to just 'get both of it' isn't exactly the brightest I would believe. Not when prioritizing is possible at least.

I don't find my way of thinking weird or even abnormal. It's very average really. I am the priority to myself. I am capable of altruistic behaviour but in the end, my priority is to myself. Are we not of such a thinking manner?

I can never understand living for someone or something. I don't understand living for the sake of god, your parents or even a loved one. I just don't. I can conceive of the highest rank another can gain from me is to live With them, but never for them. As far as the pyramid of power goes, there is nothing at the highest position that caries the value of infallibility. I am second, and I can conceive of myself and others being wrong.

I can admit I have a fear for the unknown. It is this fear that drives me so hard to gain control about myself as much as possible. It is this fear that has pushed myself away from many things one can do in life. I can admit I am a coward.

Control, to me at least, is my sedation. It is my limit. It keeps me in check. My emotions can cause me to behave in ways I know not when they are tested, and so I learn control. It keeps me from boiling over and ripping off someone's throat. It stops me making irrational decisions. It stops me harming myself and those around me.

But often is it not the case whereby emotions are the hardest thing one can control? This, I would think, is another reason of my apathetic nature.

You see, I don't remember being born apathetic. I have always been a little sensitive. Easy to respond to what others have to say about me. I guess I still am. But at one point, I realize that what people can say to me hurts, and it can hurt very badly. Emotions are hard to deal with. It's hard to rationalize certain feelings away sometimes. So at one point, I guess I just learned to at least try and stop caring. Something that you do not care about can't affect you after all.

And yet, it never works that easily does it? Because I still care, and it all still affects me, I just tell myself it doesn't. Because not everyone speaks the way I do. I say what I mean and I mean what I say. But people lie. People exaggerate. People hurt me. And they do it without knowing it. But eventually, like most things, I learn. I learn that it is very much alright to let it affect me for that one instant before apathy kicks in. Emotion will always be faster than logic. It is a biological limitation. No point wallowing about it. Just keep working on not caring. Don't let the little things bother you.

I used to not think much about disappointment. I wouldn't mind asking for things knowing the answer is likely a 'no'. I would ask anyway. There is always a chance right? But at some point, you just learn to stop trying so hard. In the case of disappointment, I'm alright in fearing it, but I am mostly just tired. I'm tired for trying to get things to go my way. I'm tired of asking for things I will never get. I'm tired of trying so hard. I don't have many disappointments in life, simply because I don't try to do anything anymore. To realize this when I was a child was for me to grow up seeing motivation as a queue to give up.

I stopped trying to be happy. Failure in trying to be happy makes a person sad. To stop trying is to stop getting sad. In a way, to stop risking is to stop getting failure. I remember feeling numb. I still remember it. The funny thing about life is that when you have nothing to live or die for anymore, everything starts feeling plastic. Short term goals and self preservation can always provide for enough reason to live, but it doesn't feel the same. Not the same as spending your life looking for happiness, or even experiencing it. Maybe I'm just disappointed too easily.

When you stop trying to be happy, your life starts losing its meaning. The end result is often feeling negative anyway. Once upon a time I wondered, is this the reason why man has always tried so hard to attain happiness? Is it just to fill in the gap in their lives that otherwise would just be a spiral of sadness? I don't see the meaning. Not really.

But I can understand the idea of joy. I can understand the idea of being content. I can conceive of a possibility of enjoying myself, being content, even happy. That in itself is enough to keep me away from suicide, legal issues aside of course. But to be able to conceive of such a thing is to be disappointed to not be having it. Cognitive dissonance is a pain.

It is said that happiness is not something that comes to you, you have to search for it. And it makes sense to me. If you want something, get it. No point sitting about waiting for it to fall onto your lap. But it could be that my thought process has been the way its been for so long that I cannot conceive of what makes me happy anymore. What do I enjoy? What makes me content? What brings me happiness? Every idea that I can think of immediately has a flaw that would make me feel something negative. I literally cannot conceive of something that can make me genuinely happy.

I don't get truly happy very often. I find it hard to recall of many incidents of being happy at all. There are many reasons to be happy, many ways to achieve it, but I simply cannot think of any specific thing that applies to myself.

It is said that the idea of being happy only once you get something is fundamentally flawed. Considering the greed in human nature, I feel inclined to agree. Getting something would only make you want more and more and more and eventually you feel more disappointment than happiness. Happiness is not materialistic, and it makes sense.

I can understand the idea behind it, I can conceive of things that seem to work with the average human being, but I can't seem to find anything that would work for me. Perhaps it is the nature of myself from my past experience, but when I fail to find something for quite a while, I stop trying. I don't recall making a conscious decision about it. I just noticed that at one point, I'm not really trying anymore.

Happiness is like an unattainable goal for me at this point. I no longer know what can truly make me happy anymore. I stopped looking the day I noticed I didn't know what I was looking for.

Hunger

Cause when I wake up it's never the right time. Not for most things and definitely not for this.

It's really not the odd hours that matter, but the state of mind itself. Often it is the case whereby one never notes its existence until things begin to waste. Funny how things are always noticed too late.

Is it because the conscious mind fails to process the idea of sleep? Is it because of the routines one has from waking up onwards?

But as the day goes on it starts to affect you. It wears you down, starts poking into your head, your thought process, your ideas. It feeds on yourself and pushes you to do something about it.

Determined souls would will it away. Yet the ones who fall are often times the ones who survive. Is this pride?

Self preservation can always be suppressed, even completely pushed away by higher brain function. Is it strange to want to go beyond the norm at times?

The human body functions too much assuming the case of a primitive world. Lifestyle changes. Technology changes. Society changes.

So spare some time and indulge in your body's request. You can't stop eating forever.