Trying to Feel Alive, Dying.

Unravelling,
Soul crushing,
Unfeeling with emptiness
Feeling with darkness,
Crushing blow,
A world so faded.
The mind’s eye,
It’s torture.

It’s place,
It’s being,

Trying,
To find a way.

The mind in it’s ever-dark circle.
The flashes,
Life, meaning and the darkness.
A face in the veil,
The shroud of darkness.

The mind’s memory,
It keeps,
Enshrined,
Every mistake, pain and torture.
Lurking behind the cloud.
Just waiting,
Trying,
Piercing.

Blasting music loud,
Into my head,
Trying to drown out,
The thoughts raging, hurting, killing from the inside.

And on into the quiet,
The quiet times,
With the mind, screaming so loud.

Trying to summon rage,
Infinite rage,
To drown out all thoughts,
Before, then I tire out.
Collapsing on the floor.

Mind full of sorrow,
A life empty,
Dying inside,
With each passing day.
Passing. Time.

Wanting, an escape,
But only finding hell,
The confines I find myself.
A destructive sense,
Of emptiness, whole.

Only wanting,
To try,
To be.

Introspective into pain.
Emptiness, whole.

As I try,
The world alight,
Fires swallowing.
Despite, all I’ve tried.

Having to go on,
But quitting inside,
With the moments, as they pass.

The mind ripping itself apart.

The world.
So hard, cold.
As I lie awake.
My mind,
Filling my eyes with tears,
Looking inside,
Feeling,
Dying.
Wanting it to stop.
All of the pain.

Trying and failing.

Empty and hurt in this world so cold,
Constant reminders, pain so great.
Pain with being.
Trying and hurting.

The dying light,
Dying life.

Sick to my stomach,
Hurting all over,
It all reminding. Piercing my soul.
Having tried.
Trying.
Hurting.
Feeling.

The sad song, of life.

Trying.
But broken inside.
The sad songs we hear, live, and feel.

Head fallig below the dark-water-line.
Wanting, hoping for it to stop.
Only wanting to live, and try.
To strive, but tired.

And I stop. Wait. Exist. And think.

Lost in a sea of memories,
Thinking on and on,
Over and over,
And it never stops.

Everytime, every scar, every memory.
Building to a sad whole.
The only answer to forget.
But that. I cannot.
I cannot.

Left existing.

Writing my only escape,
Embracing the pain.
Waiting and hoping,
But. Too tired to hope.

So I exist.

Trying, as I tire out.

Everything fading.

So I exist.

The many times,
Lying awake,
Thinking, hurting.
I remember them all.
Scars etched into my mind.

Breaking me down.
Piece by piece,
They all shatter.
They all shatter.
I shatter.

But I must stop somewhere.

So I exist.


Feeling tortured, always in the mind.

Living in my mind, the thing that comes closest to describing it is the punishment of Prometheus, chained to a rock, to have a giant bird peck and eat his liver, only for it to recover overnight and to happen all over again the next day.

Everything, the mind, thinking, can’t be bothered to do anything, just existing is too much effort.

It’s the mind more than anything, swirling thoughts, no peace, just reliving, unable to ignore or get away from. Just remembering. Hurting. Wanting it to stop. Wanting my mind to stop.

My mind, a prison.
Always,
Not understanding.
Painful.
Horrible.

Autism sucks.
It’s a prison you can never escape from.
Trying, in vain as life passes.

Trying, a world throwing all it has.
It gets too hard.

My life, can be summed up.
By; always trying, always failing.

Everything, misunderstanding, pain, hurt.

With my studies I had a goal, always trying so hard, but always failing. Haven’t had a grade I’ve been pleased with in my whole schooling life.
Moving country even, it was a trial, is a trial, taking a more difficult road. But I tried. I tried.

Not even knowing anymore really.

Everything people say,
Hurting,
Everything I do,
Hurting.
But I tried. All I could do.
And the world reminds, it means nothing.

Looking back on life, memories of all, and it just hurts.

Every moment, memory, shining like a dark star.
Many, leading up to Uni and difficult times to even attend, times during, many, and many times in childhood. And a memory flashes before me. Sitting under my diningroom table, as a kid, must’ve been like 6, hurting, and biting so hard down on my hand till drawing blood. Just to feel. Funny, this, this dying life.

Just want to write, write and write. All the incoherent thoughts. A few hours and I’m still not done. But have to end somewhere.

I’ve gotten so far, and yet, still, nothing.

I really, really, really don’t want to stop writing. It’s the only thing I can right now. But no.

Advertisements

Path To Be Seen

There It is,
The path that is to be seen,
Amongst the unknown,
I can find.
I can be.

Not knowing my path,
Finding a knowing,
One that sets me free.

Seeing the world,
Seeing its normalcy,
Content,
Being and to be set free.

A path seen,
Amongst its lack of clarity.
The place found.

Finding and set free.
Set free by the casual.

Finding to be.

As the world,
Rings out.
Its confusion,
Trying to find a path,
Make a trek,
Finding,
A path,
To find,
To be,
Me.

Let it all.
Just be.
Letting it ring past.

Amongst the calm night.
It is, let be.
As I, let it be.


It’s been a good day, did a lot of photography, sorted plans for more and plans for doing my own independent research and as one of my lecturers suggested, sending a revised and added-to essay I wrote for them to a journal. Don’t have enough time, but as always I’ll make time. Also my best friend, we chatted a little today, and I’m looking forward to spending their birthday with them!

Just wrote a comment on my favourite photographer nearby’s social media.

My true aim is, to capture beauty in normalcy. Not having to go somewhere exotic or far away, you can find beauty, inspiration and pristine bliss wherever you are. You just have to look. Even if it is hard, you just have to let your mind look.

Hurt From The Kindness

Hurt from the kindness,
Memories from a time,
A time long passed,
So far along now.

The scars always so raw,
For what has been.
And what is to be;
With the causes and ingrediebts for pain,
Beating,
Being true, kind,
Causing pain.

As the mind spirals,
With the body calm,
Always stuck pondering.

Kindness to cause pain.
One so used to,
Expected, foretold and found to be true.

True to the pain,
The pain of being,
Living and seeing.
The pain from seeing.
It play out before it does.
A hurt from kindness.

Only to say,
I knew it would come.
And I go on.
Always knowing.
Coming to the point,
Is it the pain?
Or the knowing that causes the most pain?

Hurting from kindness.
When I give,
Most others,
Even those kindest souls,
Stop.
I carry on.
And seal my pain, my fate.

And as this song, this story,
Plays on.
I go on.
Having given up,
At some level,
I cannot even see.

Never thought,
Kindness could bring such pain.
Such pain.


Spent a lot of time thinking, good day, spent many hours working on photography.

But been thinking about kindness, how it always finds harm, and an image, I’ll attach it below. Saw it weeks ago, but my pondering a of kindness brought it back. The pain. A world of memories from the few seconds of thought.

Especially a friend I’ve been helping out a long time, not lonng ago, only to find, they were using me, and after months and hyping that we could meet, they didn’t bother. Used. Again. But not even surprised.

To be able to tell the future, a ‘gift’ that only causes pain, I know because times like these, I can tell it before it is, and the pain comes,
And I’m not surprised at all.
Getting used to it.
So used to the pain.

Not a positive poem, but I’m not feeling sad, just knowing, thinking. Introspective.

Words To The Feeling

Of it all,
Pondering,
Pain,

A world so real and full of it all,

To feel,
Be,
Validated, without intention,
Making, what was real,
More so,
A burden lifted.

Helped through the time,
To keep,
Defiance by my name.

To hold truth,
To rage and be,
To understand and feel,
Allow the pain to be real,
To heal over,
Make true.

To be.

To allow,
To heal,
Defiantly,
To rage into the pain of life.
To remember the strife,
Caused.
Broke me,
To allow me to see.

Thank you,
With all my gratitude.

Bringing forth a flame to burn bright.
Letting me see, see and see again.

There are none.
No words to express.
Words to the feeling.


Hung out with my best friend I haven’t seen in ages. They apologised for not being able to meet up, not making time. Truth is I avoided it. Needed to sort stuff out. Finally got to see them and feeling a world better.

One thing I said, they thanked me, for putting the words to the feeling, something they didn’t know how to put. And hearing that lit me up inside. Happy to help, understand and be understood. Helped to validate pain I felt without seeking, needing or wanting it.

Amazing day, work was hectic but got stuff done, felt a bit bad at work, just my mind, always trying my best and never being good enough as I want, even if others don’t think that. I do, always wanting to be better. Then seeing my friend was amazing in the silliest and mundane things but was amazing. Seeing another friend in the evening.

Feeling good and things are lifting up.

Against The River Flow

Against the river flow,
Sad to see,
Sad to hear,
Sad to feel.

Sad to know,
Solitude in my drift,
Alone,
Against the river flow,
Going for kindness,
Consideration,
To be there for others,
And I do it alone.

Walk the path,
A lonely drift,
A twig, alone,
Going against the river flow.

Drifting,
Seeing all flow past,
Walking down this path.

Current always pushing against.
Against me in this river’s flow.
Knowing I’m always alone.


Writing this about kindness, consideration. As I look back, seeing the path walked, always being used, an easy for others to get comfort. Always trying to help. I get used and left.

A path I walk, and know I walk it alone. Only to be used when needed, and left alone. Hating yet I continue to walk as life tears, and walk it alone.

Still There

Still there,
A reminder of those times,
A time of life,
Remembering those memories,
As the feelings of euphoria have faded into time,
Fades but remembering the bliss,
In such a silly, casual moment,

Memories,
Even from afar,
Small moments,
Of abnormal normalcy,
Sweet,
Reminders,
Message goodnight,
Up late chatting,
Remembered in the time.

Hoping for the best,
A time of life,
Times being,
Yet not pretending,
Even with nervousness.

The beauty of the landscape,
The night sky before me.
As the day comes yet again.

The pull of beauty in the landscape,
A reminder,
Finding,
Losing oneself in it all.

In it all,
Worth another step,
The journey on.

Still there,
In those memories and reminders,
A future brighter,
Casual normalcy,

Moments lost,
In a new place,
Brought to,
By beauty,
And the time.
Of all those times,
The moments.

Uplifting and life-bringing.
Letting me be,

In casual normality,
I write, I capture,
Content.

Playing This Game

Playing this game,
A game, rules corrupt and unkind.

Having to play their own game to go on.
No matter how I don’t want,
Playing this game.

Rewarding emptiness with.a face turning away,

No time or place,
In a world inkind, uncaring.
No place for kindness given,
Taken and left,
Only until needed once again,
To give what the world doesn’t show,
Waiting in vain,
Hoping for kindness to come,
As I always try,
Only trying to keep true,
Always shown to be useless,
Taken advantage of,
As I walk off the cliff,
Over and over again.

The same scene,
Playing over and over again.

Seeing what always passed,
Expected,
Coldness,
In the world I try.
Warned by so many,
A reminder of the world so cold,
Uncaring in its whole.

Knowing the game,
But having always refused to play.
But I go on,
Only to see and hope it changes.
For kindness, as I always try.
Knowing,
I’m fighting the game itself.
As I try and try,
To change the rules,
To make kindness,
To be,
To try,
And change the rules.

Looking up,
At the star-speckled sky.
Hoping and trying to change,
Through kindness I wholeheartedly give,
Knowing, I fail,
Fail to change.
The mind refusing to surrender,
Keeping on trying.

Playing this game,
Changing up the rules,
Hoping to change,
Showing what is in need.
What everyone wants, hope for,
Small kindnesses,

Always trying,
In a game that’s so tiring,
But I don’t tire,
Hope for the change.


Thinking, last night, was a little rough, only a little. A friend, my friend apologised to me, or kind of, they recognised some stuff they did and how rough it was, the way they treated me. Even my reply, being so used to it, being used, ripped apart.

Chatting today was better so much nicer and they’re coming down to see me and they’re coming earlier and going to a friend’s party with me.

Got me thinking, if I got a penny for every time I’ve been used or wronged then I’d own an island of my own.

Lots of apologies given, they always seem to alien, I’m used to being abused without remorse. Sad. Sad. Upsetting but oh well.

Caring, that’s the problem. Most people, friends and otherwise ask, why bother caring without ensuring I’m paid back. But that’s not me. I do, hoping, kindness can be repaid with kindness while not expected. But that’s not how humans work.

I guess I need to learn the human game, and play humans at their own game.

Had a good day, guess I’m just thinking.

Guilt

The moment,
The time,
Guilt ever-filling.
Guilt for the self,
for what I do to you,
The mind, my mind,
The face of guilt,
For what I do, feel and see.

The face of me,
As a tear runs down,
Knowing my fate.
Walking this path.
Knowing. All along.

The demons hold,
Not like before,
The gentle grip,
Unlike before,
A whisper in my ear,
Showing me,
No escape.
As I,
Continue on.

A gentle grip,
Never letting go,
But less violent, more long-lasting.

As I know, feel and see.
Knowing freedom,
Unattainable,
Pain, always coming.
All that can be hoped for,
Temporary respite,
Until I see,
See the hand on my shoulder,
Gripping me.

Not knowing,
So I sit here fixed.
Wondering.
Thinking.

Unable to think clearly,
As I sit.
Just waiting,
While this grip holds on.

And I hold guilt,
For not setting myself free,
Not being able to,
Not knowing how to try,
Not willing to try,
As I. Fixed in place.

Warnings so clear,
Alarms in my mind.
Alarms all around.
Yet guilty,
For the grip holds,
I stopped, stopped shaking it off.

Unsure in place,
I exist.
Guilty, for continuing.
For going on.
For knowing now,
What I’ve known all along.
I am complicit.
Complicit.
And from complicity, comes guilt, sorrow. Continuity.

My mind burning with sorrow,
From the guilt,
The lies I need to tell myself;
That it’s fine.
That it goes on.
As the choice makes the guilt.

Never surprised,
When knowing all along.
And knowing into it all.
Complicit with guilt.
Sorrowful.

What’s worst,
Is knowing,
Having known all along.
Making guilt find me.
Actions my own.
Actions for a pain my own.

Knowing it all.
My pain so deep.
Only wishing an escape,
Resolved to living in the pain.
Living, continuing and just going on,
The pretense of normalcy, normality.
Normality of pain.
When it cuts so deep.

As I know.
Have known.
Go on.

With the guilt gripping me,
Choices made, from choices I didn’t.

Sitting alone,
Better this way,
In my throes of pain.
Knowing the path ahead,
The sorrow and guilt there.
My friends to make.
Life to be.

Hoping where there is none,
That the pain will fade,
Living with the mind’s scars.
Raw as ever.
Deep and new always.
The rupture and bleed,
Sad but true,
As I know.
Complicit in its making.
And okay with it,
Okay and knowing.
With this pain.
Washing all other troubles away,
A tsunami to wash away the ripples.

Waves,
Crashing at my feet.
Sinking into the blackened sand.
The sea-rumble,
Never to drown out the thoughts,
As I lie,
On the cold ground,
Sitting, thinking, living,
In this time.

As I slip away,
My mind takes me,
Losing piece by piece.
Time after time.

Saddened with every choice,
Choices not for choosing.
As the time passes,
Barely noticing.

Loss so deep.
With a corrupted mind.
Pained into submission.

All the feelings,
A mixed mess,
Of happiness, sadness and all in between.
Just the feeling,
Ripping at my soul.
As I lie unfeeling through feeling.
Tired, but the body wont give up.

All-consumed,
By guilt, my own.
Sorry for all said,
Sorry for feeling.
As with this all.
Dying inside,
Until I don’t notice.

Tears cannot flow anymore,
After so long,
A pain longlasting.
Nothing more.
Pain taken it all long ago.

And just left.
Guilt.
Just guilt.
Over it all;
All done, said, felt, and complicity.


Was okay, but as always, seems to turn out a lie. Writing this, doesn’t help, but I need this. Just need to write, life and experiences, living, pain and sorrow. My guilt.

The picture, taken earlier today.

Can’t Help But Think

Can’t help but think,
Feel, see and think.
A time,
One of many past.
Reminders, of all.
Oh how, what?
It all fills my mind.
Drives me crazy, but happy.
Wondering and thinking.

But what?
How?
Why?
Oh my brain hurts,
With all the questions and feeligs,
The being,
Bringing me,
Showing,
Hurting but also showing me life.

I turn away,
Ignore,
Walk down the path,
Shielding from my eyes,
Fearful of pain.
Wondering,
But fearful of the pain already felt,
Already found.
But knowing.
Thinking.
Feeling.
Wishing I could get past.

Oh how I care and it kills me,
Wanting to care,
Give the world,
Be a light shining bright.
To care.

But as I shield,
Pretend to ignore,
My mind acclimatises,
Forgets what it never will,
Feins to not know,
Bury deep questions that would crush.

Not a path I wish to take,
But one I can’t find a way around.
Caring.
A question, always causing pain.
But not always bad, but always hurt.

Oh how to explain,
Caring that hurts, but isn’t bad.
Caring that just is,
Just is caring.
A state,
Of being, been and to be.

Of it all.
I.
Can’t help. But think.


Totally amazing night, with old friends I haven’t seen in ages. But it’s got me thinking, deep pondering. Not feeling bad, but amazing, but deep in thought in a mixed way. Writing lots of, probably incoherent feelings here. Truth and ramble.

But the image is another I’ve taken.

Odd But Good Times

Odd but good times,
In how they are made,
Made and pass.

Feeling at home,
At home and free,
Surprised to feel,
In a world once so cold.
Getting stronger everyday,
Reflecting in this world.
So much seen,
So much,
So far.

And here I am.
Here I’ve found,
Wanting to bring,
To try,
To help souls;
Lost and in the dark.
A debt I owe, for myself,
To try.
To keep fighting those bad times,
Keep fighting.

To find.
Made.

And here I am,
Having fought to find.
Fought, embraced, and come to know,
My demons,
As they stood and stared.
Till they, relegated to the past.
They, stay in the past.

Having to keep on the fight.
To keep.
While I try.
To help,
Others,
Through empathy,
An open doorway,
A doorway,
To feel, to see.
A world not my own.
But also just so.
Collective feeling,
Collective hardship.
The living,
Of and within humanity.

Care,
Never to leave my side,
Never to leave my mind.

Trying to give,
Help and to keep dear.

In these odd and good times,
I continue to feel.
Continue to be and see.

A world perfect in imperfection.
Perfect, just to be and see.

A world there,
Just to be felt.


Just feeling good and pondering, happy, the picture is another one I took.