All I ever do is walk the wrong path.

I feel so wrong. Sometimes it’s as though I’m some other person watching this complete idiot live their life. When I stand back and examine myself instead of others for a change, I always have to take about 10 seconds to quell my panic at the thought that this person is truly me. I’m so much stupider than I give myself credit for. I suppose it’s my own fault, really.

Each little pebble, the forbidding mountains to overcome
Every empty smile just one step closer
All those people
Just another damn face for me to create
They say “tell me about yourself”,
So I tell them lies
A phone number I never call, a friendship that has no where to go
These are your customs,
I beg you to leave me to mine
My answer is no to your every question
Just remember that every word I tell you is a lie.


Further down the rabbit hole….

I can’t seem to get a handle on my thoughts lately. I’m going slightly mad at this point I think. I knew a long time ago that it would come to this, but now that it’s happening I’m not fighting it like I said I would…. The only conclusion I can draw is that on some dark, hateful level, I pursued this, I wanted this….

How do you know when the voice that’s talking is really your own? How do you know if something you’ve been hiding for so long isn’t so hidden anymore?

Every feeling is slipping further and further away. It’s actually to the point where a smile or a laugh holds no meaning to me, and instead of being a “feeling” it’s more of a learned reaction. I smile because if I don’t…someone might find out. If I don’t laugh, someone will suspect something is wrong. Maybe it’s a form of self-preservation, except this is more a preservation of percieved sanity than my actual life. I won’t die if anyone finds out. I won’t die if people find out what I think. I won’t die if I lose everything I’ve been struggling for. But my life will be just that much harder, just that much more unliveable.

I guess it doesn’t matter anyway. Life has always just been a stupid game. Most of the time it isn’t worth playing. In the end everyone loses and dies anyway…haha.

My secret?
I like to feign sanity
I always tell lies
Punish me if you please,
Nothing of you matters
I keep my secrets in my mind’s eye.


I keep getting progressively worse. I find myself drifting between reality and unconsciousness. There are times where I can’t remember if I was sleeping or if I was awake. I’ve been sleeping more and more, and I’m to the point where after 7 hours of sleep I feel as though I haven’t rested at all. I take naps in the middle of the day, even though I’ve gotten 9 or 10 hours of sleep. I can’t seem to get any energy out of myself; my body, for once, has been very weak lately, probably for the last few months. I don’t know anymore how I’m still managing to get things done.

I’ve been keeping myself busy buying things online. I’ve been playing with my desires recently, tempting myself with new things in order to just forget for a little while. I bought a few books, some movies, things to wear. And that’s another thing, I’ve gone back to reading again. I finish books so fast that I find myself searching the bookshelf for new things. It’s uncommon for me, to say the least. I haven’t been to town in about a month, I haven’t seen a stranger in just as long. People might say that’s unhealthy, but for me it’s solace.

Sometimes I feel like I’m bribing myself. I do things that bring me pleasure only because that seems to be all I can feel right now. I go out into the woods and wander, so lost in thought that I’ve walked miles before I remember that I have to turn back. I take one of the ATVs out, even in the frozen weather, and speed down the trails trying to forget. I seem to enjoy it, really. Even when I’m shivering, my legs cold as ice and my face red from the chilled air, I keep going. I don’t stop until the sky starts getting dark, or until the chill in my body begins to feel warm. I don’t know what I’m doing, I hate where I’m going.

A world frozen in ice,
Much like those cold stares
Lines blurring, severing foundation
Reality and fiction
Too close for an ill mind to call
The breakdown of everything I hold dear
There’s no escaping here.

Gods are people that are cleverly selfish; gods are things of deceit

Each moral is a vanity,
Every law a lie
There is no such thing as happiness
Settle for violent discontent
Everyone vies for first touch; the corruption of innocence
All is to my distaste

The desires are truly a pursuit of life
Abstinence is a wish for death
Every pretty little lie makes me stronger;
It is the world I wish to contaminate

Those people so contemptible
Stand by and swallow my lies
Serve the one that blasphemes the best
Let me sever all of your useless ties
Now build me up to be your martyr, your new dutiful God
Betray my trust, tear down my loyalty
Watch as your God dies

Lick the red from the dirt
Gaze upon my dead eyes
Let me decompose in my world so perfectly constucted
Let my soul drift away
Ask me why I leave you to die alone,
Ask me why I leave you to suffer and toil
I’ll simply say,
“For those horrible things you did to me”

Nobody gives a damn about you, or anybody else.

When does guilt become something that should be unlearned?

I’ve always been a very…guilt-ridden person. It probably has a lot to do with my upbringing, with the staunch Catholic views my mother instilled in me when I was of a more impressionable mind. It’s taken a very long time for me to push aside those philosophies in search of my own, more forgiving ones. And because of this early corruption (oh yes, it is most definitely corruption), even with my new, personally learned ideas, I still struggle more often than I care to admit with that voice of times passed. Like a bitching, nagging mother, the voice still frequents my everyday life, attempting to shake the foundation I have so painstakingly erected out of sheer rebelliousness and hatred of tradition. I’ve fought for what I’ve learned, stood before my critics and laughed even when it threatened to bring down my careful illusion constructed to charm a society of idiots. Everything I’ve strove to accomplish—both personally and for the sake of a facade to hide myself behind—almost becomes lost in the face of that old, decrepit conditioning.

There was once a time where I could do nothing that went against those ideals I’d been taught. I was a prisoner in my own life, never pursuing my own interests because I feared becoming ostracized for having an interest in such things. I wanted nothing more than to pass beneath the glare of society’s eyes, to go unnoticed, unchallenged. Of course it didn’t always affect me…. After years of having what I wanted at my fingertips yet never actually having it, I slowly began to obey a few of my “lesser” instincts. All on the sly of course, as I was too ashamed to ever reveal my interests to the people around me, and I did not have any intention of threating the image I’d been perfecting for so long.

It was the sight of conformity that eventually began to make my blood simmer. Soon enough it was alight. Oh yes, maybe I had been taught things in my youth, but my mother had always claimed I could do as I pleased. It wasn’t true of course; her ideas of what a kid should be allowed to do were limited, but were not nearly as conservative as what I began to see in my newfound friends. I was practically a stripper in comparison to a nun in regards to my allowances. I had everything, they had nothing.

I suppose I just wasn’t content forever being a God-Whore chained to the cross like a pitiful Jesus; no I was not to be a servant or a dog wearing a collar of bondage.

There is a truth that I’ve discovered. Guilt is a human idea. This fact leads to many things, the first being that humans are, in all their stupidity, biased. Rarely do I come upon human philosophies—especially religious philosophies—that are founded in any sort of truth. Generally they are born of idiocy, or the faulty reasoning of diseased minds. And due to this, those ideas cannot and should not be accepted as truths. Naturally, people scarcely take the time to ponder themselves, let alone the beliefs that they have followed since childhood completely without question. So what is guilt?

Guilt, like many human creations, is an excuse. It’s a pay pass for being naughty. It’s something we’ve designed in a futile attempt to deny ourselves the things we so desire and make ourselves feel terrible if we do follow our wants/needs. Why do we deny these urges? “Because it isn’t right. Because that might hurt my relationship with so-and-so. Because it will make me look bad.” Really, it’s cultural conditioning, learned culture, that dictates what is “right” or “just”, and what isn’t. These flimsy little excuses we’ve made to justify our actions don’t hold up to logical reasoning. There is no need for excuse. You enjoyed something, so what? Why must you feel bad about it?

What this all connects to is one idea, the one that I hate the most: prestige. The philosophy that in order to live a good life you have to be obedient and constantly protective of your reputation. That somehow, this idea, which I remind you WAS CREATED BY MAN, should dictate how you live your life. And for what? So that you look good in other peoples’ eyes (which, by the way is ONLY because of cultural myths) and suffer on the inside? To live a life of abstinence toward anything and everything in the face of that which pleases you…it is one of the most ridiculous notions human beings have endorsed so far.