Monday, June 22, 2015

Disgured and Breathing.

There is an arm which is gripping tightly on my neck. It is choking me and I am barely breathing. It is the arm of humanity. The intensity of the suffocation that I feel must be the weight of all my sins. My nerves tingle with a voice I never had, that voice says that I have to run. Run far away from all of existence. There is another voice that says that I am an alien, an alien in the most grotesque form possible. Ugly, ungodly, profoundly disgusting and nauseating. 

A long sword pierces different parts of my body, it sticks out throughout, displaying all my vulnerable insides. My liver hanging off at the edge, my heart near the hilt and my lungs in the middle. My eye balls pop out because a kitchen knife has penetrated through my thick skull from the back.

I feel that there is a physical obstacle wedging the insides of my brain. Probably a book of some sort. This is prohibiting me from focusing and I feel all my thoughts instead of diverging into another set of thoughts is hitting a wall and hurting itself to an endless stream of pain. There is just one consistent thought : Death of the idea of existence itself.

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