I feel a pang of pleasure at each misfortune that befalls me.

I find solace in despair after every slight and personal defeat.

A dark balance steadies me, as though misery rights the scales.

A sneer settles across my face;

I know I've received my due, and it satisfies me.

I feed off my failures to find relief in the inevitable.

Perverse gratification accompanies my shame- perhaps forever intertwined.

Any once innocent fortune becomes stained with indignity.

Only in my degradation is my pleasure pure.

This entangled manifestation who's taken residence in my reveries,

Now a familiar companion, it entices me-

why not indulge in your own destruction?

By day and unanalyzed 'happenings'

my mind may be at rest and the sunshine

and my happenings able to be enjoyed.

The light creates and illuminates

our illusory lives.

Yet there is something that remains untouchable.

We can see in front of us but if desired

to look up and behold directly,

our astute vision becomes too intense.

So, we are content with such illusory reflections

of light. The sun is too fierce for decent eyes-

a disquieting truth we dare not confront.

I think so deeply. only deeply or not at all. lately it's all deep. im used to confusion and opacity but it seems i have untangled myself and now im left with two ends. ive seen something others haven't. maybe i wish i hadn't. have i gained insight? it's hard to accept. confusion is easy, clarity is harder. i can't go about life the same. i have gotten to know my heart and it has rose above my head. but my head has always been first. a chicken who's lost its head. im walking around with my head cut off and deemed foolish. yet has such loss made me wiser? that's what it's like knowing myself for the first time. my values have shifted but it is my individual journey where the outside world has remained the same. how can i fit in so changed. i can't pretend anymore. im bare.

I write because my wrists are leaden

but this lead only weighs down my burden

often i wonder whether im thinking so deeply

or never thinking at all

id say they feel the same

in the way that darkness is

something

yet

nothing

nothing is real

Lately ive been having trouble understanding the reality around, but especially inside of me.

my thoughts either pass me by at light speed to which it becomes a waterfall of unintelligibleness that i dream of damming with my thumb.

or im surrounded by a haze of sticky reflections i must stumble through only to find that my hot breath has fogged up the glass.

i muster a modicum of lucidity only to have any order be shuffled and stirred into splats of cerebrum left to evaporate on the walls of my skull.