Trying To Feel

Trying to feel,
Despite feeling empty inside.
Lost without feeling.

Trying all I can,
All I have in the past,
To find feeling,
But left empty,
Do not know why,
Despite what I try.

Fighting the world’s emptiness,
Raging to try,
Raging to find life.

Trying all I have before,
To find.
To try.

To try and feel,
To try and be.
Left to spiral.

Living by the distraction,
One moment at a time.

But oh well,
Living in the pain of unfeeling.

As I rage and try to make it through.
Living with the peaceful crashing of the waves.
Trying.
Trying all I can.

Feeling so lost,
And unsure, why this is.

One thought brings slight comfort, feeling,
And even this,
Cannot disrupt the emptiness right now.
But I try, I try,
To feel.
To try and see.

The songs that play, of life.
A life, captured in music.
I try.

Even this,
May not be enough,
To cease my mind’s spiral.

But I try.
I have to try.
It’s all I got.

This sad song.
Trying to find,
Trying to see.
To know,
To be.

But I’m left lost.


It’s been a better day, but I still feel empty, lost. Maybe it’s because I still need a recovery period. But I really don’t know.

I really feel I’ve lost something recently, don’t even know what.

Even what I’ve always known could help isn’t working. Did some photography which was nice, but still, empty. Lost. Hurt. Not even knowing. That’s the worst bit. Not knowing. Feeling lost. Feeling a bit was lost.

Before I could write poetry and blow off steam and get back to a recovery, but this time is different and don’t even know how or why.

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Memories From The Present

Memories from the present,
Reminders of a past,
So alien,
So full of demons,
Me.

As the times flow past.
Bringing perspective,
Sadness,
Being.

Times stuck.
For others,
As I find myself,
Chained.

Anger, sadness, pain, memories.
Wanting to push away.
So I,
Can slip away unknowingly.
Just to be.
To make what I want.

Having knowingly erased,
Most of my past,
My childhood.
Always remember,
But suppress,
Hide from view,
For myself and others.
The time erased.
The time I have burned from view.

Living in the moment,
With the reminders,
The scars, fresh and old.

Fragile flesh,
Tree rings,
Marking the times,
For the living.
All that’s come and to bring.

All the scars from wars fought,
Wars of the world and mind,
Scars from the battlefield called life.


Spent just under 12 hours asleep. Was kinda peaceful, spent a lot of time not thinking, unconscious. Nightmares concerning work, but only a bit, luckily once asleep, even nightmares seem disjointed and not connected to reality and hence they’re easier to cope with. It’s just the nightmare, and not a long list of memories.

When I finally left the house, just for a cig after a stressful week, a song came on, one I haven’t heard in a while. Reminded me of some times in secondary school, half my lifetime in the past, reminding me, being cheeked, always the unceasing memories. But they weren’t too bad. So far in the past. But always clear, I could take a boat home and go straight to that room even now, half a lifetime in my past.

Feeling calmer, empty but calmer. I probably needed this despite wishing I had done some photography but had no motivation today. Hopefully after a week of 6ams I can do some everyday, hoping the week can get better, even one good day seems like quite the ask so far.

But we’ll see.

Thinking of how far I’ve come, much further than I thought. Much further. Also reminds me of depression in secondary school and my promise to myself that I wouldn’t make it to my 23rd birthday. I can’t believe I’ve made it to 20, not by choice but yeah. We’ll see. Oh well.

Reminds me of my promise to my best friend, that they don’t have to worry about me, I’m existing, not by choice, but unfortunately just stuck, so everyone doesn’t have to worry, apart from me, stuck in existence, but not by choice. But yeah.

Awake for 40 mins and now probably time to go to bed again for work.

Sleeping The Day Away

Sleeping the day away,
A shelter, from thought, worry, anxiety.

From the trying comes my failure,
Worry, of failing others.

Broken, in time.

Have people lied so long?
And the truth is coming out now?

Is this state the truth?

Leaving me hollow, empty.

Seeing the signs,
My mind worsening.
A tumor growing,
A tumor of being.

Not knowing what to do.
I tried, I try.
So hard.

The brain, warping, rupturing.
Breaking down anything before it.

Wanting to cry it out.
But feeling so empty.
Empty as I look before,
Seeing my failures splayed.

Trying to find the strength,
To get through,
To make well,
To go out,
To free myself with passion, enthusiasm.

But I tire,
As the overthinking crushes every feeling,
Every inclination.
Feeling failure.

As I think, trying to will myself to betterment.
I tire.
Trying all.

Wanting to do my best,
To help,
To be kind.

As you pass and see the world’s beauty.
Don’t even feel like looking.
Given up on seeing.

A sad set of affairs,
Watching myself fall and fall.
Just watching, seeing the breaking apart. Helpless.

Only trying,
And everything people’s said,
Plays over and over.
A write-off for the day, as my trying ends in failure.


A stressful shift. Can’t help but think I did everything wrong. Always. What’s worst. Is me. Asbergers if I have it, is always thinking, playing all the worst moments over and over in my head, unceasingly. Making me feel sick and tired. Not sleepy but tired.

Was looking forward to doing some photography today after shift. But don’t feel like it. Just feel like sleeping the day away, so I cannot do anything else wrong. I did all I could, all I thought right. But at least, when unconscious I won’t think.

It started well, really well, but ended stressful and shit.

Again, what’s worst, it’s not like anyone said I did a shit job, maybe it was thought by them, maybe it wasn’t. But I can’t help but think and think. Till I feel like retching. Not even sure. But I tried. I always try.

Today is a write-off.

Hoping to heal, but yet another blow.

Can’t even think. I tried.

After recent stuff, really didn’t think this day could end so bad.
Hooing I could be on the mend.
But instead I feel myself slipping down in more ways than one.
Giving me worries for any future.

How is everything going so bad? Is it even? Or a fault in my brain?

Probably didn’t help that I didn’t take a break, but I didn’t have time, and would have preferred to not take one and try make better.

I don’t even feel like eating. I just want to sleep.

Didn’t think this year could go so bad. I have less stress paying for a Masters, more time to relax and do what I want, less stress with exams and more time. More time just to try my best just with work, to do good work, to help. To do good work.

Just losing everything. Hard. I just cannot escape my body or my mind. Trapped. Everything, especially me, just breaking me apart.

I really wanted to move away from home and now, I am losing myself, every reason I had, just unfeeling. I don’t have a desire to move back, but losing everything I wanted. So left with nothing. As I try.

Slipping

Slipping as I try.
Try, try, try my all.

Giving all I can.
Just to try.
Fighting the world, crushing down.

But I try.
I tried.
Buckling under the weight.
Buckling as the world forces its true weight.

Feeling a ghost,
Wherever I walk.
Without knowing why.

Everything,
The good of the world,
Feeling like an empty memory,
Even in its presence.

Anger and emptiness,
Fueling my spectral walk.

Through the dark streets, dark fields.
Taking in the moonlit night.
The lights of the city,
Calming,
But still… empty.

The thunder, hail, rain,
Give me peace within its lack.

Empty, emptied out, into the night.
Tired.
Given up.

Lost in the world.
A world so empty and cold.
Lies told.
Creation of a world not my own.
Enough to fool myself,
For but a moment.

Some small peace from being.
And after, the moment is gone.

Staring out into the rain.
Let the rains fall,
Battering against my skin,
So unfeeling.
One where sadness cannot touch me,
Devoid of all feeling.
An uncomfortable state of being.
Giving in.
Letting be.

Giving up the fight so hard.

As the world cries the rain.

Everything fading, before my eyes.
Shivering so cold.

A world.
One where I cannot fight.
Survive.

Dying inside, every second.
Is this life?
Trying to distract the mind?
From the truth.

As I see it all crumbling before my eyes,
Helpless.
I tried.
Failed.

Now to watch the world.
Do what it does.

Laying helpless.

Finally giving up.
This fight after so long.


The picture I took today on a photography trip. An image I like, my phone doesn’t give the beauty justice. Saving up for a camera and intend to try and take it better. Standing on high, it was peaceful, but for a moment.

Just tired, empty. Don’t even know why. I’m not empty when distracted, but even then, is that living? Having to constantly distract yourself? Kind of like going the rest of your life without sleep. Eventually, you will fail. You will fall. You will lose the fight.

At least photography gives me a brief respite. But I truly just can’t.

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.

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.

Sadness

Restless and exhausted,
Tired of it all,
Wanting to give up,
To rest.

Hurt by humanity too many last times.

Sadness,
Another time hurt,
By humanity lies.

The broken pieces sing their sad song,
Sad songs,
Too many times broken,
The pieces have no fit.

The world, no reason.
Sadness grasps,
Life, a poison running through my veins.

Until it stops.


Day started shit, gotten a little better. Maybe even good. But this goodness, always reminds me, a mere ignorance of all the shit. What I always learn to ignore and it bites me.

Only good thing that happened today really was seeing a lecturer who encouraged me to add to and update an essay I wrote for them and to send it to a journal.

Cold Inside

Cold inside,
Always so cold inside,
I try to see past, but only shown wrong,
The colours always fade,
When I only try.

It digs,
Pierces, tears and hurts.

Now unflinching, I just watch.
I die and hope,
Let go and fade.
Hurt and leave another day.
Wanting silence,
To cry, leave and die.

Just to sit here,
Let to fate.
Left to pain by realisation,
Shown true colours.

I saddened by humanity’s face.
Its uncaring, manner.
One looking down at pain,
The outstretched hand,
A laugh?

Such to be expected now,
After hoping,
Hoping for kindness,
But wrong,
Knew I was wrong,
Guessed I was wrong.
Shown I was wrong.

As the skin won’t tear,
My mind forces,
Wills it.

The mind’s silent wait,
All unfeeling,
Don’t feel like eating as the body asks,
Not even existing,
Waiting for unconsciousness to claim me,
Sleep a redeemer,
It can claim, but never long enough.
Before I wake,
Thrown into pain again.

I can’t even remember,
To grasp a sliver of happiness,
I remember, people,
I remember pain,
I remember being used.
And I die everytime.

Memories cutting,
Slashing and hurting.

It’s so cold,
Everyone,
Always reminded.
Even as I try to believe,
People can show kindness,
Like I try.
Then I see the truth.
The truth that it’s so cold inside.


Writing, having an earlier night than usual, healthier? No, just fucking can’t be bothered to be conscious any longer. Hurtful, how hurtful people can be. Late night chats to make sure someone’s okay, to cheer them up or at least show someone understands, joke around and all sorts of shit. As always, as to be expected, as always experiences. I’m just left here, feeling used again. Wondering why I bother, but unfortunately I don’t do it for something in return hence I will do it again, get used again, get hurt again. Constant torture. Until my mind goes numb but feeling.

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.

Let the Beauty Cut Deep

Beauty, in the cut,
Running so deep,
Dripping in its time,
Rage and happiness through pain, Raging in life through the difference,
Beautiful, pain,
rage and happiness.

Pain and raging,
Happy in defiance,
Pain in it all,
Rage to extinguish,
All other pain,
And to smile.

Life so bloody,
My life laid to bare,
Beautiful in rageing pain,
Existing beautiful rage.
Complete pain.
To tear so deep.
Yes this is me.
To replicate my feelings,
Anger, hurt and pain,
To rip, cut and tear.

To pry from bone,
Rip my mind,
Tear at life.

Beauty of the pain,
coming and coming,
Always coming and expected.
Only to tear and enjoy the pain.

To rage and hurt.
To feel and keel over,
Smiling as I,
Fall bloody on the fall,
Hahaha as it all goes on.

Ripping all I can to forget the pain.
To forget the pain.
And enjoy,
Inflicting what I’ve stopped from others.

Pain suits me,
Hell suits me,
Pain of it all,
Let hell rage and flow over,
Letting the pain take over,
Letting the pain, rage through,
Letting the overflow.

Rage at what is known,
Letting what is known,
Rage through,
Fires bright.

Conversations of the past,
You know nothing of pain,
Poison of breathing,
Rage and death in feeling.
Breaths of killing,
Pain and death in living.

Fuck all this shit.

All of it,
Let it rage while I die.

All the shit comes,
Knowing from a mile away,
Knowing.
Humanity’s shit,
Its stench,
Its living, a hell it does not know.

Dying inside from the stench,
Living as in the horrific,
The humanity,
Raging in my own death.

Death of living.

Beauty of the pain cutting deep.

Let it all,
Rot in hell,

Raging against the decay,
What others, call life.

Hateful of being,
What others inflict,
Calling living.

Lies of humanity’s living.

Of being,
The lies and horrific needed for living,
Being and festering.

To rage and show I exist,
To let know.
To just let know.

Beauty found in pain.
Pain of the lies
Told just so,
Pain bringing forth the rage,
Rage to being,

To living as dying,
Beauty within,
Rage for the beauty of pain.