EmperorOfIceCream
Senior member
can't sleep
my mind is working
overtime worrying about
little things like regrets about
how spring is passing and I sit
in melancholy too often, my fire is
so dim its like the last flickering light
of a candle at a church where everyone
is going to become atheist, and God won't
matter anymore than the wax on the floor
that dripped and dripped throughout my life
and left me here - empty, fuel-less, caring-less
not loving, just apathetically trying to sleep even
though I can't, won't do what it takes to transform
my mind, to find a match, or oxygen, or ask around
and try to understand what the hell it is thats going on
in hell, where fires burn so hot and warm, where motivation
certainly must be the scorn of all those who are left out of the
fire, and can't stand their regrets, but don't feel any ire, because
all they've ever done is love themselves, and give themselves all
they ever needed - and when they searched for truth outside their
selves they found an empty vacuum, like the nef of a church of atheists
worshipping nothing, but striving for internal goals created by external force
of wind and rocks banging back and forth, action-reaction of society, like they
said in physics class, not sociology(the place where people try to understand how
things work but will never have an answer for the why of why we try and try and feel
and hope and apathetically melt into nothing, and flicker into nothing, and exist as nothing
even when our spindly fingers stretch across the skin of others, or sink into the dirt and plant
seeds that bloom flowers red and orange, or press against rough bark as we ascend above the
forest like a plane shooting through the clouds and seeing all around a new landscape of white hills
like elephants peircing your mind, your spindly fingers peircing them, back and forth back and forth),
can't sleep, my mind is working overtime worring about the little things like regrets about how spring is
passing and how I sit in melancholy too often, and how my flame is so dim, its like the last flickering christian
light of a candle at a church of atheists
my mind is working
overtime worrying about
little things like regrets about
how spring is passing and I sit
in melancholy too often, my fire is
so dim its like the last flickering light
of a candle at a church where everyone
is going to become atheist, and God won't
matter anymore than the wax on the floor
that dripped and dripped throughout my life
and left me here - empty, fuel-less, caring-less
not loving, just apathetically trying to sleep even
though I can't, won't do what it takes to transform
my mind, to find a match, or oxygen, or ask around
and try to understand what the hell it is thats going on
in hell, where fires burn so hot and warm, where motivation
certainly must be the scorn of all those who are left out of the
fire, and can't stand their regrets, but don't feel any ire, because
all they've ever done is love themselves, and give themselves all
they ever needed - and when they searched for truth outside their
selves they found an empty vacuum, like the nef of a church of atheists
worshipping nothing, but striving for internal goals created by external force
of wind and rocks banging back and forth, action-reaction of society, like they
said in physics class, not sociology(the place where people try to understand how
things work but will never have an answer for the why of why we try and try and feel
and hope and apathetically melt into nothing, and flicker into nothing, and exist as nothing
even when our spindly fingers stretch across the skin of others, or sink into the dirt and plant
seeds that bloom flowers red and orange, or press against rough bark as we ascend above the
forest like a plane shooting through the clouds and seeing all around a new landscape of white hills
like elephants peircing your mind, your spindly fingers peircing them, back and forth back and forth),
can't sleep, my mind is working overtime worring about the little things like regrets about how spring is
passing and how I sit in melancholy too often, and how my flame is so dim, its like the last flickering christian
light of a candle at a church of atheists
