Re: I need to vent.

I wore the outergarment of hysteria as my countenance realised its own outwardness of impending oblivion.

I'm less than ready for oblivion yet - merely a child in this realm, born unto characteristically ill circumstance of late.

How could I have realised pain like this? How could the darkness have consumed me so readily with its ilk of queer generosity?

To be so private and solitary with this pain and no offer of anaesthesia, other than what is terminal - should I know this life as mine own? Should I lead my dissociated self to deep oxygen-starving waters?

How can a world dynamic change so readily and so inspidly against every elementary particulate that I called my own?

What is it to know and reconcile self-rejection/self-assimilation?

What is the extent of discomfort that one cannot even make preferential choices/distinctions?

To be ravaged in the knowledge that we're decaying organic matter...posing as animates...

Woe is me, oh dark forces that encircle and permeate me, in my rarity of being; oh, really, have worse things happened at sea? May lightning strike me... Tweet