Songs Off Into

Songs as they flow,
Off into, into the world.
Through all these moments,
These times, places and frok my mind.

Sadness and happiness,
Excited, apprehensive,
All in the feeling.

A song of reality,
Lonliness, existence and being.

Being in place,
As I call into the darkness of the sky.

As a tear runs down my cheek,
While happy,
I still feel pain.
But I go on.
Trying and hoping to see, to be, to try.

Writing this, had a great day today, work good, more sleep and not deprived, and lots going well. Stayed up till now watching Punisher after some photography. Been ages since I’ve taken some photos.

Feeling good, but also sad and thinking, about photography and Punisher. Photography is a sad hobby, an escape, for those trying to escape. I am looking forward to a friend being a model for some photography which could be fun for us.

Hate For The Pain

Anxiety, pain. Hatred for horrid situations.
If only I said what I see, memories for years there, remembered.

Daily life?
Only done through ignorance.

Going through,
Especially from youself,
The only way to continue,
Only way to get by.

If only it was seen,
If only.
Anxiety, scars caused by such the simplest things sometimes,
Memories of how they are always remembered.

If only,
The minds of people,
Could see the effect they have,
Wounds they inflict,
The bloodied mess they can leave upon a mind.
Worse still,
Making one unravel,
Until its doing the dirty work itself.

A torture beyond torture.

Mind racing as panic sets in.
Too tired to continue writig, but I must.

Seeing a desolate landscape,
A deserted field.
The bleak.
All tried to be ignored,
Only goes so far.

With pain deep, panic grows. And harm already done.

Just finished writing the last poem, thoughts were flowing through my head and I need to write another. Thinking about blame, miscommunication and the lack of truth encountered in daily life. I am too tired to write this, 2 hours of sleep for the last 3 nights. But I must, otherwise I probably won’t get any anyway.

People saying one thing, blaming another, blaming for not doing when it was done or blaming for explaining a situation. It’s funny. Clarification often in real life is blamed. I would never as it is either useful or at worst it’s totally useless. A win-win situation. This produces anxiety, worry, concern and my own paranoia. Even now, before bed, memories stabbing at me. From even weeks ago. Even a lot further than weeks ago. Recent. All the same. If only instead of anxiety, it would produce hate in my mind rather than self deprivation and hurt, then I would be less anxious, but would show a lot more anger considerably. Something I’ve controlled. Quite frankly, I’m too scared of myself getting angry than anything. I can remember times being angry from even the age of 7, rage and thoughts running through my mind, even specific causes and moments. I was, an scared of getting angry. So I have purposely not, hide it, calm it, release it slowly in angry but empty thoughts.

The Last Light Dims

Demons we have,
Demons we share,
Places found,
Times fought.

As the song dies to close,
As the last night dims.

Demons live,
The mind just sees.

Even with it all.

Better or worse,
All the same,
One mess of existence.

Mind racing,
Forced onwards.

Again and again the demons drag me,
Forced on,
Hating without feeling.
Mind brings me,
Darkness traps me.

It all ruptures,
Till I stop noticing.
Emptiness from everything.
My mind fighting the pain,
Wanting to turn the pain, into a game, adjusting, coping, taking control.
For why should I be tortured? I can at least get used to, and smile during.

Sadness gripping,

Let this last light dim.
Candle blown out.
It all ends.
Cold and darkness consumes all.
Just pain. Getting used to. Becoming known.
So it never feels.
So it is the complete norm.

Feeling marginally better today as of the last 2 hours, watching Punisher, my favourite Marvel character. I like him how I like Rick and Morty, living in total pain, but doing, but everything is empty anyway, but just going on.

Been thinking about my worry, cycles of panic, where mind racing, mistakes making, only leading to more worry, mistakes and anxiety. It all is a perpetual cycle of worse.

Sadness, emptiness, a beautiful feeling.
In such a morbid and dark way.
Like starvation, a challenge, an achievement. Harm, feeling good, because anxiety, unsure, a penance.

It’s unusual, the stage between pain being the normal, then unfeeling and then even good? I guess the mind, adjusting to what has just became so nornalized.

Painful Mind

Pain in the mind running deep,
Wrecking through the unceasing voices within the mind.

As the thoughts run through,
The body tires of the mind.
Tires of all the times.
Memories as blisters,
As the pain runs through,
Making, wrecking as it goes,
Watching, and crumbling.
Watching apathetically as it breaks down,
As it hurts all inside.

Surging deep,
To deep to feel,
Just watching,
On the edge of the abyss,
Just looking down,
Hurting and hating.
The mind’s tireless tirades.

Tired but just past feeling.
Just to be.
To wait and see.
But the tired times come.
All feeling meaningless,
Maybe this helps the pain?
Maybe it does not.
Cannot be helped,
An emptiness from emptiness.
Trying and just tiring out.

Given up and just sitting there,
Watching it go,
It disintegrate.

Seeing without knowing,
Trying without doing,
Failing without feeling,
Apathy as it crumbles.
One thing and then the next.

Even the best things,
Empty as they flow and fade.

Out of body,
Trapped within the mind.
Waiting to hope.
But watching it crumble.
Remembering and trying to forget.
To forget it all,
Heal pain with ignorance.

Just there.
Within the painful mind,
Only breaking further,
Raging against the mind.

Self destructive rebellion,
To a mind-my-own.
One I do not want.
Crushing the mind within my grasp,
Smothering it in ignorance,
Unfeeling to it.

Waiting to the so-called healing,
Ignoring the pain.

Music, for the soul,
Letting and waiting.

Hating deep this mind-my own.

Always easier to pretend,
When you don’t see.
Easier, when others don’t see.
Almost a trick,
Easier, making it hide.

Just wanting to try,
Just wanting to feel okay.

Time flowing and fading.

Been feeling rough. Rough day. Just that’s it.

Beauty In Being

Beauty in being,
In pain to see what others don’t.
What they won’t,
What they can’t.

True beauty of being,
To fight intolerance,
Fighting all social norms,
To allow to see.

To try and to be.
To see and show.
To be.
Just to be and to see.

Amazing, great house party. Found my calling. Showing true beauty of being. Beauty in all people, beauty of being, personality, everything. Something I’ve always seen but been dissatisfied with people not seeing their own beauty.

My calling, to show the truth. The truth people don’t see, the truth people overlook.

Beauty In The Sadness

Beauty In,
Beauty in the sadness,
Times, worries, hopes.
Being in the moment.
Moments to be.

Beauty in the trying,
In the triumph,
In the world and feeling.
Beauty in being,
Intricate moments,
Thinking in time.

Trying to be happier,
In the moment,
In the time,
Time passed,
Time being, feeling,
Making it,
Step by step,
Trying and trying.

To be.

Looking off into the distabce if my mind,
Thinking of the times.
Thunking of all the places
Pains and trials.
Trying and trying to all my being can muster,

It’s about the care,
The truth,
And the times.
And so I try.
Trying to be.
To care and say.

Trying no matter what,
The darkness of the mind can muster,
Living in the care,
In the time.

To be and try,
I try, even as I may grow tired.
I shall still try.
To keep my heart and mind,
My soul alive.
And so I keep going,
To go on and try.

Writing this, a bit sad. Amazing graduation, amazing time before Christmas seeing my dad in London, amazing time back home just after Christmas, amazing time for my graduation. The end of an era. Worries, care, trying, memories. All bringing beauty, beauty in pain, and in triumph.

My Own Pain

Was feeling really awesome. Only just over an hour ago, was with my dad, hanging out while he’s visiting for my graduation. Now after going home, thinking, just thinking. Fears I’ve written posts and poems and just not posted. I cannot explain the anxiety since years ago. Many years ago. Uncertainty, feeling I’m stumbling from one place to another watching as the land beneath me sinks before I jump to another place of temporary safety, that I very much know will fail.

With my diagnosis I know this uncertainty is not good for me, and I finally understand why it affects me so and has done for many years. Uncertainty in living, in my job having a time limit. Fear, that every place I live I cannot even feel comfortable, even now, furniture for my new place I haven’t bothered with, my dad feels bad for me I guess, calling my living very minimalist, I play it off for his sake, but, I would describe it as squatting in my own bedsit. I can’t feel comfortable if I know it’s temporary, fleeting, living for one year before being uprooted and again. I have considered going back home, I do not wish to. But it has certainty and more security, I know this, it is the obvious choice, one many friends of mine have chosen. But I know my reaction, it’ll be a loss of interest, like an animal that is already dead, but living just because life continues even if it is only torture, pain, and numbness. At home, I will lose all aspirations, peace, and just resign to living just to pass the time before death. Even back to my childhood (definitely not a bad one, but one full of mental anguish, my addiction to video games from the age of 6/7, it was an attempt to escape reality, escape my mind, escape thinking, I even knew I used it for an escape, I didn’t know what I was escaping from, didn’t know it was not the only way. A situation much like drowning thoughts in alcohol, cigarettes of gambling.

My worries have been getting to me for a long while now, years even. My worries then paralyse me, my paralysis then causes more anguish and less time to fix. This produces more worries and then I am further paralysed and it all spirals. Even the one thing that brings me peace, it itself is an escape, itself is fuelling paralysis by not confronting worries or a problem and itself also causes great anguish.

I honestly would never wish anyone Autism, even worse a ‘hidden’ Autism. It’s torture from living, good or bad, having the best or worst time in your life it always is pain. Always worry. Always looking for an escape.

Recently has been amazing, my time at home, my first shift back at work, recently prior to graduation. Photography all going well. This, as what seems like almost everything only causes more anguish and pain, I am having a good time, so why do I feel like death and worry? This causes greater pain.

My childhood, I am and have been very privileged, nothing perfect, nothing is, but then why do I feel this again? This only adds further anguish, being ungrateful? Further pain and anguish.

Autism is torture. It is pain, loss of understanding, feeling a world that is never true, never knowing anything, never feeling anything but pain, anything good is only a facade for hiding the pain. Even when everything is, ‘okay’.

Worries, How They Claim

Worries in my mind they lash and claw,

The fight and rage,

Leaving no peaceful moment.

I resign,
Resign to sadness after trying,
Resign, to being a mere distraction from what I try not to see.
A distraction to show others, what they want, a normal, happy, person.

While inside I’m dying.
While inside, I feel shame for this very fact.

I’m just here,

Worried if I do, worried if I don’t.

With no options open to me,
I feel trapped, trapped by no options,
Trapped from a mind hiding itself within distractions.
Trapped with inaction, paralysis to fear.

Writing this, the time I spent at home, very busy, very hectic, many nights I wrote poetry. It fell asleep away halfway through and those were the few nights I had a chance.

Back at home, now, I should be happy, should be for so many things, but I’m sad, in pain and worried, it claiming my mind. There are a couple things that calm my mind, but even these worry me when looking at them for what they are, a distraction to ignore my own worries, my own mind.

But until I find another option I guess distraction shall have to do.


Torture in, with,
The thoughts festering,
Rotting against my mind as it tried.

Surrounded by people yet always feeling alone.
A dying soul,
Trying in a world I cannot.

My mind,
On fire with worry.
Paralyzed as I look on,
Into the abyss.

A constant worry, threat, pain.

I fall asleep while writing,
Drifting as the mind offers no solace.

I am scared, paralyzed, horriffied

Thinking, first bad day thinking in a while. Having an amazing time at home, and it’s good that I have largely been to busy to think, until today. Helping a friend out, leads me to thinking, trying, chats with family and friends. Has me confused, worried, out of my depths. About my mind, when my contract runs out, decisions, paths, all I’m paralyzed by, having to force myself but only to get paralyzed, worried, anxiety-ridding and alone in this. Things that have been worrying me for a while but I have endeavoured to try and ignore, try and calm.


Been super busy, meant to write but had lots of travel to get home.

Did a good bit of Autism Awareness Training. It was really good, best training I’ve had. Few problems, it taught me nothing new, showed me how I already experience the world. And worst, it reminds me how difficult everything is.

If I had to describe living with Asbergers with one word, it would be “torture”. Imagine living, where everything you know, see, feel, can never be trusted, so you seek advice but can be constantly let down and hence left with nothing. Nothing known, not knowing.

My trip home was long. It’s good, but so weird, I definitely don’t feel like I belong here anymore, it’s familiar but alien at the same time. But being home for a day and a bit now it’s getting re-familiar, and going around doing photography is helping.

Can’t help but think back to the Autism Training. Hasn’t really provided ways to help me, but has proved recognition, and unfortunately didn’t provide any solutions.

Photography is a good thing, just to keep my mind occupied. Rick from Rick and Morty’s saying “just don’t think about it” truly applies to me. Hopelessly depressed, even on the best of days, just existential angst. But oh well.

I’m feeling really good right now. But it never really helps get rid of an underlying feeling of sadness. Can’t even explain it, over the years, so used to it, it gets fainter, but always still there, always continuing.